Most Valuable Playboy

I laugh. “You’d be better off talking to the team or my agent. I let them handle the negotiations. My job is to throw the ball and get it to the end zone.”

Todd is relentless, even in the parking lot, even by the passenger door of my car, even with Violet next to me. “But if you don’t land a wild-card slot, what happens then?”

I draw a breath. “My focus is on the game. That’s where it needs to be all season long anyway. And that’s where all my attention belongs. On the game.”

Todd glances at Violet and makes a move to thrust the phone at her. I give a quick shake of my head and wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Thanks, Todd. Good luck with your story.”

Once inside my car, Violet lets out a big breath. “He’s a little, how shall we say, aggressive.”

“Understatement of the year.” I drag a hand through my hair and heave a sigh.

“You okay?”

I shake my head. Then I nod. Yes. No. Maybe. I rub the back of my neck. “Just wish I knew what was coming next.”

“I can imagine.”

“I get that this is part of the business, but I don’t know where I’ll be next year,” I say, turning to meet her eyes. A million thoughts swirl in my head. Her business. My business. The landlord. The contract.

“Maybe it’s best if you focus on football then, Cooper,” she says softly.

I flinch, giving her a look as if she’s crazy. “Are you breaking up with me?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No. I’m in this for as long as you need me. I meant the other stuff.”

I frown. “You’re cutting me off from giving you orgasms?”

“Ha. Do I look like a masochist?”

I pretend to give her a thorough once-over, appraising her. “Nope.”

“More like the opposite these days,” she says, nudging me with her elbow. Then, her expression turns serious. “I mean, I don’t want anything to get in the way of your focus. So why don’t we wait till after you make the playoffs to talk about dates and all that jazz?”

Her meaning is crystal clear. Orgasms are good. Dates are bad. But does that mean she’s erecting a wall, or simply keeping me on track? I don’t know if she’s putting me off from looking ahead because she doesn’t want what’s next, or because she only wants sex.

The trouble is, the more I try to puzzle it out, the less likely I am to do what I need to do. And that’s follow my own advice. Focus on football.

I give a crisp nod and a salute. “Sounds like a game plan.”

She looks at her watch. “I should return to the salon.”

“I thought it was your day off.”

“It was. But we’ve been so busy, I can’t really take a whole day off, so I need to handle a few appointments this afternoon or we’ll be slammed.”

I point behind me to the hospital. “You did this for me?”

“Of course I did it for you,” she says, her sweetness making it harder to concentrate on orgasms only. But those are my new marching orders. I turn on the ignition, reminding myself to zoom in on what matters most. Her business. My business. Not the unknown business of my heart.

I start to back up, then I tap the brake. “Before we hit the road, I have one question. Does focusing on football mean I can’t tie you up tonight when you get off work?”

“You want to tie me up?” she asks, her voice suddenly a little breathless.

“Since you’re not a sadist, I would very much like to give you another orgasm. I find it helps my focus on football immensely.”

Her lips curve up in a smile. “I’ll take one for the team, then.”





25





I work out, shower, make dinner, watch game film, study the playbook, pack for our cross-country trip to Baltimore where we will kick unholy ass on the gridiron on Sunday, and text Violet to ask if she’s hungry. An emoji face holding a fork and a knife is her answer. I pack up some food for her and drive to her home, knocking at eight thirty sharp.

“Don’t laugh, but I have to be in bed by ten thirty,” I tell her when she opens the door.

Her lips twitch in a grin. She chuckles and pats my cheek. “It’s so cute that you have a bedtime.”

“When you meet Greenhaven, you’ll understand why we all follow his rules. Dude is intense.” I shut the door behind me and hold up a soft cooler packed with food.

“Are you feeding an army?”

I eye the gigantic red lunch bag that’s, admittedly, more suitable for a day of fishing than delivering dinner to a woman. “Pretty sure this is just for you, but maybe I’ll keep it for myself.”

“What did you bring?”

“Protein, protein, more protein, and broccoli.”

She mimes gagging. I walk past her to the tiny kitchen, where I unpack the bag and set a Tupperware dish of stir-fried chicken on her counter. “I lied. It’s stir-fry and veggies. Come and get it.”

She pants like a dog as she trots into the kitchen. “Yum. I love your chicken stir-fry.”

“I know.” I watch as she opens a drawer and grabs some utensils. She’s wearing black leggings and an emerald-green top that’s sparkly and hangs low and loose. The scoop neck affords a fantastic sneak peek of the tops of her tits.

She hops up on the counter, takes the Tupperware, and digs in. She smiles as she chews, then rolls her eyes in delight. Her bare feet swing back and forth, and she looks so utterly, delightfully happy that it makes my chest ache in a whole new way. A good ache. A warm ache. One that makes me want to get closer to her. All because she’s . . . eating adorably?

What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m sporting a goofy grin. I better wipe that shit off my mug right about now.

I lift my chin. “Thanks again for coming today. You were great with all the kids, especially Smashalie.”

“I loved it. That girl is cool. I want to go to her roller derby games.” She takes a bite of the chicken and then gives me a mischievous little look. “Want me to braid your hair sometime?”

I drag a hand through my locks. “Somehow, I doubt even you could braid my hair.”

“I did learn on Trent,” she says as she spears another forkful.

I arch a brow. “Seriously?”

“Remember in fourth grade when he refused to cut his hair?”

I snap my fingers. “That’s right. He wanted to be a rock star.”

She taps her shoulder with the end of her fork to indicate the length of Trent’s rocker locks back then. “Mom let him go one year without cutting it. He was my crash-test dummy.”

I shake my head in amusement. “That is basically the best dirt ever.”

“You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

“No, I just like knowing it. Why? Did he swear you to secrecy?”

She brings her fingers to her lips in an oops gesture. “I think so.” Her expression turns serious. “He doesn’t know about this?”

I step closer, and plant a kiss on her neck. “You mean that?”

She shivers. “Yes. That.”

“Of course not. Besides, there’s nothing to tell, right?” I wink. She laughs, but the sound fades quickly. “Did you mention anything to him?”

“God, no.”

“What about Holly, though?”

“Holly honors the girl code,” Violet says.

“Are you sure?”

She gives me a look as if I’m nuts. “She hasn’t said a word.”