Dammit. That’s what I get for talking to myself in the car all the time. I don’t even realize when I’m saying all my thoughts out loud anymore.

  I slowed my car down and came to a complete stop in front of an iron gate. Punching in the code, I waited for it to swing open before pulling all the way in and coming to a stop. “I don’t care if you’re into her. She’s gorgeous,” I said, lying through my teeth because for some reason, I did care. I cared a whole hell of a lot.

  “So are you.”

  Two quick raps on the passenger window had Crew turning to see Seline’s magazine-worthy face staring back at him. Bart started barking from the backseat, and Seline’s face twisted as she peered behind Crew.

  “Did you bring a dog?”

  I opened my door and slid out, waving Seline over to my side of the car and away from Crew.

  “Holy hell, Sum. He’s stunning,” she whispered in my ear as we hugged.

  “Trust me, I know.”

  “Is he following suit?” she asked.

  I knew exactly what she was referring to—Is Crew doing what all the other guys have done previously?

  Nodding, I raised my eyebrows and answered, “Like a damn user’s manual.”

  “Unfortunate.” She tsked, sounding far more disappointed than I’d ever allow myself to be.

  “Tell me about it.”

  HOT WOMEN TRAVEL IN PACKS

  CREW

  Summer was right. Her best friend, Seline, was fucking gorgeous. She looked like she belonged on the cover of every magazine, no Photoshop or airbrush needed—her face was that flawless. But I’d seen a million gorgeous women, and for the most part, they acted exactly the same. Most wanted the perks that went along with dating a professional athlete, hoped for a ring, and prayed even harder for a kid. The “accidental” pregnancy was the meal ticket.

  It hadn’t taken me very long to realize that beautiful women had been told their whole lives that they were beautiful and nothing else, so it became the one thing that defined them. Outside of their looks, most of them had no idea who else they could be or why they should even try. A lot of the women I’d met never actually worked a day in their life and had things handed to them simply because they were pretty.

  Tell someone something so many times, and they started to believe it.

  Kind of like me with football. Who was I outside of being a quarterback? I wasn’t always sure, if I was being honest with myself.

  Which was why meeting someone like Summer had knocked me off my feet from the get-go. She had the looks to be like every other female, but she wasn’t. She worked hard, had made a name for herself, was praised for the career she’d built from scratch and celebrated for it as well. Hell yes, I’d stalked her social media profiles and all of the press I could find on her the other day. I’d almost thrown a fucking party when I didn’t see her pictured with any men online.

  I’d heard Summer when she told me that every guy had said all these things to her before, but I didn’t care because I knew myself well enough to know that I meant them. I wanted to fuck her so hard that she’d never walk right again, but it was more than that. If I were only looking for a woman to stick my dick in, I could find that anywhere.

  Summer was the total package—looks and brains. Not to mention the fact that she might love my dog more than I did. Speaking of, she was currently holding on to him with one hand while she juggled her keys, purse, and paperwork in the other.

  Jogging toward her, I reached for all of her things instead of Bart and watched as both women threw each other a look I wished like hell I could interpret. Sometimes, women spoke their own language, and it wasn’t for anyone else.

  “You look cute, holding Summer’s purse, Crew,” Seline fired at me, her accent permeating every word.

  “I’m secure enough in my masculinity to handle it,” I fired back, and she laughed while Summer stood there, shaking her head.

  “Where are you from, Seline?” I asked and noticed Summer’s expression falter slightly. She thought I was doing exactly what I’d sworn I wouldn’t do in the car—fall for her friend.

  “I grew up in a small town in France, but I’ve been here for years. Just can’t seem to shake the accent completely,” she said with a wicked grin that I knew made most men weep. But not me. I’d only be weeping for the strawberry-blonde with blue eyes, currently holding my dog.

  “I’ve never been to France,” I said because I’d done very little traveling outside of the United States, no matter how many times people insisted that I make the effort. It always felt like I had no time to go anywhere and truly enjoy it. The last thing I wanted to do when I went to Europe was to be rushed and not even get to see anything. “Have you, Summer?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve been to London a handful of times but not France yet.”

  “We’ll go together then,” I said with a shrug, and Seline nudged her with her elbow.

  “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go look at the house.” Summer redirected our attention to business, just like she always seemed to do. “Are you excited to see the backyard?” Summer asked, and when I turned to answer, I realized ee that she was talking to my dog and not me.

  “Stop making me jealous of my fucking dog,” I complained, and Summer stuck out her bottom lip and pretended to pout.

  “Aww, poor tough guy. I’m sure your ego can handle it,” she said as she wrapped Bart’s leash around her hand and held him tight as she walked through the gate in the backyard instead of the front door.

  “You obviously don’t know me very well,” I grumbled under my breath, and Seline was next to me in a flash.

  “She doesn’t trust you,” she whispered.

  I pretended like I hadn’t just heard that, so I wouldn’t draw Summer’s attention. If she noticed me and Seline talking between ourselves, she’d convince herself that we were flirting, doing exactly what she feared, and I didn’t want to play into any of that. I might be an asshole sometimes, but I hated emotional games. Football excluded.

  “I didn’t even do anything,” I complained quietly, hoping Summer wouldn’t notice.

  “You’re doing what every other man has done since she took this job,” she explained even though Summer had told me the exact same thing already.

  “Yeah, she mentioned that.”

  I watched as Summer unhooked Bart’s leash from his collar, and he took off running in the oversize space before he dropped to his back and started rolling around on the perfectly manicured lawn.

  “I think he likes it,” Summer shouted, the smile on her face a fucking joy to behold—literally. She filled me with happiness, just from watching her.

  “Listen, Crew”—Seline grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face her straight on—“the other guys just wanted to screw her. I saw it in their eyes, no matter what other pretty words came out of their mouths. They were all full of shit. But you seem different.” She narrowed her brown irises at me and pursed her plump lips together. “I think you might genuinely be interested in our girl here.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you both,” I argued, and she put her finger to my lips to shut me up.

  “She’ll never believe you. Not until your work with her is completed. Because this is what happens every time,” she started to explain, and before I could even ask her what happened every time, she was telling me. “They all act like they want to be with her. But the second their contract is up and Summer is done working for them, they disappear and go away like she never existed. That’s why she knows it’s not real. She learned pretty quickly that people get caught up in their emotions while they’re in certain situations. When she’s the only businesswoman you’re around, you think you love her. But when she’s out of sight, it all ends.”

  “If you two are finished flirting, we have a house to see.” Summer’s annoyed tone broke through the insightful information Seline had been giving me, and instead of being upset for the interruption, I swiveled in Summer’s direction.

  “We’re not flirting, Duchess. I only flirt with you.”

  “Uh-huh,” was Summer’s response as I started walking toward her and the open glass back door.

  The backyard of this rental was perfect for Bart; I almost didn’t care what the inside looked like. It was only temporary anyway.

  “See? She doesn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth. And she won’t. Unless you’re still around, annoying her, after her contract with you is up.”

  “I get it, Seline. Thanks for the tip.” I hadn’t meant to come off so short with her, but I understood what she was telling me. It was something that I’d already picked up on.

  I’d try to cut back on all the crap Summer had heard a million times before and make sure that when our contract expired, I was still standing there, waiting for her to give me a shot.

  And I wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.

  I’M IN TROUBLE

  SUMMER

  We didn’t even visit the other house in Hermosa. Crew insisted that there was no need to look any further. He loved the Manhattan Beach rental, the neighborhood, and when I drove him around the small downtown to check out the restaurants, bars, and the pier, I thought he audibly moaned the second the ocean came into view.

  I tried to tell him that Hermosa was a little less “bougie” and had a more laid-back, party atmosphere, but he simply shook his head and told me we were good.

  “Tell them we want this place. I asked Seline to pull properties here as well.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked because things weren’t always as glamorous as they seemed at first.

  “Why? Should I not?”

  I sucked in a breath. “I was just thinking that you should see what it’s like to actually live here for a minute before you buy property. I mean, what if you end up hating it?”

  “You think I will?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I just err on the side of caution, is all,” I tried to explain because I’d hate for him to buy something and then decide that Manhattan was too busy, or too far from the field, or not for him.

  “Okay.” He nodded his head. “Okay. Put a pin in Seline, and I’ll see how I feel on a day-to-day basis first. That’s probably the smart thing to do, right?”

  “I think so. I mean, do you have any concerns at all?” I asked as I slowed down behind the car in front of me.

  “Only the traffic. It seems really crowded here. And I hate the idea of not being able to go anywhere.”

  I understood what he was saying. The beach cities during the summer were absolutely packed, so he was currently seeing it at its worst. Not to mention the fact that the streets were small and narrow with homes packed along both sides, causing cars to bottleneck easily. It was honestly kind of a pain in the ass to live here.

  “It’s summer, so it’s the worst time, but everywhere in LA is kind of like this. As long as we get you a couple blocks away from the sand, you’ll have an easier time, getting in and out.”

  “Speaking of,” he said, his face suddenly all lit up, “is there one close by?”

  I scrunched my face together before I realized what he was asking. “Oh, an In-N-Out? Like burgers?”

  “Yes. I’m dying to try one.”

  Laughing, I asked, “You’ve still never had one?”

  “Nope. Be my first.” He placed his hand on top of mine, and I pulled it out from his grip ... again.

  “You have to stop doing that,” I squeaked out because his touch was like a freaking magnet. I wanted to chase it every time it left me.

  “I can’t,” he said before Bart made his way toward the front of the car and put his head between us on the console. “Hey, buddy.”

  “There’s one not too far from here, but there will be a line.”

  “Is there never not a line?”

  “No.”

  “Take me there, Duchess.”

  I tried to stop the smile, but it spread across my face anyway. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to hurt Bart’s feelings and he needs to experience it as well.”

  We drove in relative silence, to my surprise, down Highway 1 and toward a random In-N-Out location I’d pulled up on my Maps app. This man was lucky I loved their food; otherwise, I might have put up a fight. Ah, who the heck was I kidding? I would do whatever he asked.

  I mean, I did work for him after all.

  It’s part of my job description, I thought, lying to myself.

  We were currently parked in the lot, our food sitting in cardboard trays on our respective laps. I grabbed a fistful of freshly made fries and shoved them in my mouth before sharing some with Bart, who was drooling on my floormats, his tail wagging excitedly.

  “Are you going to take a bite or stare at it all day?” I teased, waiting for Crew to inhale the burger like I wanted to do. But I refused to stop watching him, and eating my own burger would distract my attention. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been present for someone’s first taste of In-N-Out, and I wasn’t going to squander the opportunity to see the reaction firsthand.

  “I’m feeling pressured,” he whined, and I smacked his shoulder with my hand, pretending not to notice how hard his arm was. “What if I hate it?”

  “I don’t care if you hate it. I don’t own the place.”

  “If you pull out your phone and start filming, I’m getting out of this car and walking home,” he said from behind his sunglasses, but it was an empty threat. There was zero chance he’d make Bart walk all the way back to the hotel.

  “I’m not going to film you, but now, I kind of want to.” I stopped talking for a second before adding, “I mean, think of the marketing. You could be in their next commercial.” I wasn’t sure I’d even seen an In-N-Out commercial before.

  He wrapped his hands around the burger and started slowly moving it toward his mouth. “Okay. I’m going in.”

  I watched as he took the world’s biggest bite before chewing, his head nodding the entire time like he was having some sort of secret conversation with himself. Holding my breath, I waited for him to say something ... anything ... so I knew whether or not to surprise him with the food sometime in the future

  “You’re killing me,” I complained. “Come on, Crew. Do you like it? Hate it? Think it’s overrated? What?”

  He started smiling before a gruff laugh slipped out. God, he was gorgeous. I hated how attracted I was to him because I knew his so-called attraction was only temporary.

  “You make torturing you so much fun.”

  I growled, and he laughed again.

  “See?”

  He took another bite of the burger, the secret sauce dripping onto his chin, and I had to forcibly stop myself from reaching out with my tongue and licking it off.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  “This burger”—he finished chewing—“is definitely not overrated. It’s like the perfect combination of ingredients. The hot burger with the crisp lettuce. Whatever this sauce is, it’s fucking delicious.”

  “And you haven’t even tried the fries yet,” I said, now sounding like I did own the place, as pride coursed through me.

  It was a California thing.

  He reached for the shake I’d forced him to get and slurped it through the straw, making me grin. “Why is everything here so good?”

  “Fresh ingredients. Real milk for the shakes. Real potatoes for the fries. Nothing’s ever frozen. Apparently, that makes a difference,” I fired off the reasons like us Californian’s had been born with them in our blood or something.

  “How soon do you think we can move in?” he asked, and I blinked a few times to refocus.

  “I’ll call the listing agent when we get back to the hotel,” I said because I didn’t want to make the phone call while we were in the car. Whenever I handled business on the phone, I needed the space and privacy to wander around. Sometimes, I ended up down the street from my house without even thinking about it.

  “Sounds good.”

  We both finished off our food, and I started the engine before heading back toward Crew’s hotel to drop him and Bart off. I was running through the list of what I needed to get done in my head—call the listing agent, see how quickly Crew could move in, find a dog walker, make sure the security cameras on the property were in working order, make a list of local numbers and resources for Crew to access easily, call Seline and put her house-hunting on pause.

  “Where’d you go?” Crew’s voice broke through my inner thoughts.

  “Work,” I answered easily.

  “But I’m your only job, and I’m sitting right here. I demand your attention.”

  Shaking my head, I didn’t even turn to look at him as I responded, “You have it, Your Highness.”

  “I just like it when you’re paying attention to me.”

  “Crew, seriously, what do you want from me?” This time, I did turn to glance at him. It was going to be the longest two months of my life if he acted like this every single time we were together.

  His expression twisted before a cocky, know-it-all grin replaced it, and I forced myself to look away. I wasn’t sure if he was going to be honest or spoon-feed me a line of crap and expect me to swallow it.

  “Just your heart, your soul, and that smoking hot body to twist and turn at my every whim,” he said without taking a breath.

  I glanced at him again, extremely annoyed. “Can you be serious for two seconds?”

  “I am being serious.”

  “Mmhmm,” I said, forcing myself to focus on the road.

  LA traffic was no joke, and I’d be pissed if I crashed my car. I loved my car. And those feelings were real—unlike the ones Crew kept spewing out at me.

  He wanted to have sex with me.

  How fucking original.

  BART, THE ULTIMATE WINGMAN

  CREW

  Could I have been any more typical in my response to Summer’s question? No, I couldn’t have. I was a fucking idiot who had just promised her best friend that I’d back off until our contract was over so that she’d realize that I actually meant what I was saying.

 

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