The Game

Book Excerpt

Dani

Several minutes later, I hit ‘print’ for the trainers’ schedules and roll over to the printer.

You’re here early.

What? I squeak and jerk around to stare at Gunner. Holy shit. He’s even bigger up close. Stop drooling. Inhale. Get your head out of your ass.

He chuckles. Sorry about that.

The deep rumble of his laugh causes my breath to hitch and butterflies to jump inside my stomach. Heat radiates up my neck and over my cheeks. I didn’t expect anyone to talk to me.

He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms. Why wouldn’t anyone talk to you? Then, his eyes narrow into little slits. Have the guys been pricks to you?

No. Stop putting your foot in your mouth. I swallow around my dry tongue and wish for a water bottle or a pool where I could dive into the deep end. Nothing like that. I saw you in here and didn’t expect you to talk to me.

That makes me sound like an asshole. He steps forward and thrusts out his hand. I’m Gunner Sinclair. And despite what you’ve heard, I’m not an ass.

I smile weakly and push out of my chair. No one said anything bad about you. I clasp his hand firmly and ignore the jolt of electricity shooting up my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. I’m Dani Vaughn.

Nice to meet you, Dani. He nods and releases my hand. I don’t remember seeing you before this year.

I graduated in May. This is my first big girl job.

Congratulations. He presses his lips together and studies me.

My entire body hums in response. Am I nipping out? My eyes widen, and I throw my arms over my spandex top, willing my nipples to retract.

Shit. Did he notice? I’m not willing to swear on a stack of Bibles a spandex shirt and sports bra are enough to keep my body from displaying its attraction to the athletic God standing in front of me.

His fucking thighs are huge. Stop staring at his legs. Fuck. Don’t stare at his dick, either. What’s wrong with me?

Contents

Book Excerpt

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Epilogue

The Secret

Free Book

About the Author

Book Review

Chapter One

Dani

The hot July sun is stagnant inside the media tent. Thankfully, I’m not required to stand under the beaming, breath-sucking sun on the silver benches where the crowd watches the second-string practice drills.

I lift my hair off my neck and fan myself. It does nothing to relieve the pooling sweat on my neck and in between my breasts.

I watch the players file in for media rounds from the strategic position at the edge of the tent. The first day of training camp has garnered an enormous crowd.

When Gunner Sinclair, the team quarterback, steps out of the sun and under the white canopy, my mouth dries, and my nipples tent the fabric of my top. I slap my arms over my chest, and the hairs stand on the back of my neck.

The man is drop-dead, melt-your-panties hot. Not only does he command the offense with precision and ease, but he’s also the kind of guy that has everyone following his every word.

Damn, he’s flipping hot. Ashley, my best friend, shoves her elbow into my side. Her pointed body part feels like a metal bar jammed between my ribs.

Stop it, I hiss without glancing at her. The last thing I need is someone on the team catching wind that I drool when he walks by. As the newest trainer for a professional football team, I can’t show weakness.

Ashley can strut her stuff all she wants as the only team dietitian. I can’t share the same luxury. 

As Gunner steps up to the podium, a hush settles over the crowd. The media outlets from both radio and television take turns hurling questions at him to which he answers without hesitation.

A bald man with a slight beer gut waves his finger in the air, to which Gunner nods. Marcus?

He clears his throat. Has the last play from January haunted you over the off-season?

Fuck. My body stiffens. He asked what everyone else wanted to know, but no one wanted to ask.

The last play of the season ended with Gunner on his back and the ball squirting out of his hands. A defensive player from the opposing team scooped up the football and sprinted into the endzone. Game over. Hopes dashed. The city was devastated. I can’t imagine how the team felt, how Gunner felt.

Thank you, Marcus, for the question. Gunner rolls his neck in a tight circle as if he’s trying to relieve the tension in his shoulders and neck. I’ve been single-minded in my preparation for this year. There are no distractions. There will be no distractions. We’ll be back in the divisional game and on the other end of the scoring decision in six months. We will go to the championship game.

I shiver at the intensity in his eyes. What I wouldn’t give for him to look at me with that amount of passion. Lord, I’d fall at his feet.

He’s perfect. Ashley jabs me again. You should ask him out.

The guy next to us spins around and glares. His jaw flexes as he hisses, Shut up. The flesh around his beady eyes is pale from where he’s been wearing sunglasses, but the rest of his face is beet red.

Sorry, I mouth and quickly spin away from him.

The drone of questions continues, and the sweat on my back dries. When my head spins, I grab Ashley’s arm. I’ve got to get out of here and get a drink.

She nods. Go on. I want to see the rest of the interviews.

Okay. I shift sideways and try to slither past the burly gentleman with raccoon eyes.

His lip curls, and he squares off in front of me. You aren’t butting.

I’m not trying to get in front of you. I become dizzier with each passing second, and my head throbs with each heartbeat.

More people in the crowd turn our way and stare. My face surges with heat as all the attention shifts from Gunner to me and the dickhead wearing a too-tight t-shirt and cargo shorts. Perfect.

I twist and step in the other direction. My gaze meets Gunner’s, and he gives me a half-smile. Holy shit. My heart dives to my feet.

With my next step, a cord slips over the top of my tennis shoe, and I fall forward, flailing like a waving inflatable arm guy until I land flat on my hip. The stinging radiates across my thigh, down my leg, and over my ass cheek.

Holy fuck. I close my eyes. Why the fuck won’t the ground open and swallow me whole. What an excellent way to start a new job.

Ashley giggles uncontrollably while offering her hand.

Bitch. I grasp her fingers and spring to my feet.

This is a classic. She wraps her arm around me and shoves us past the asshole who I blame for my epic fall into disgrace. Are you okay?

Yes, I’m perfect. I lie through my teeth.

Chapter Two

Gunner

After a week of training camp, I’m tired of being away from home and using an unfamiliar weight room. Not that the facility isn’t state of the art. They designed it specifically for us a few years ago.

But Lord, I miss the comfort of my own stuff. Sleeping on a dorm bunk with a thin-ass mattress is for the birds or, at the very least, college kids.

Hey, Bud. Tony stops right in front of me. His feet are inches from mine.

I rise from the weight bench and cock an eyebrow. What’s up?

The guys and I are going out tonight. You coming?

I’ll think about it. I shrug. Not like I have anything else to do.

What are you doing? Washing your hair? Tony smirks.

It’s clear he thinks my decision not to date during the season is ludicrous, but I don’t have time for distractions. This year I’ve amped up my training regimen – no dating. Period. In season or out.

And by dating, I also mean – no random hookups. Nothing. A pure celibacy pact.

Kiss my ass. I roll my eyes.

It’s not like you have a date or something. He lifts his arm and studies his watch. Meet us at 5:30 p.m. on the bottom floor of the dorm. We’ll get something to eat and drink a beer. I’ll even help you guys eat a sampler platter.

What’s the special occasion? Tony’s a total health nut. Getting him to eat carbs is like pulling teeth. Or me getting laid.

I’ve got some good news, but I can’t share it yet. He grins like the cat that ate the canary."

Fine. I’ll go. My gaze drifts to the newest personal trainer for the team. She has long brown hair and dark eyes. And for some stupid reason, I can’t stop thinking about her. From the second I saw her fall on her ass, I’ve been obsessed.

Tony twists and whistles. She’s a hottie.

Tony, I growl. Am I warning him not to look or threatening him to mind his own business? I’ll leave that for him to figure out. Hell. I don’t even know what I mean.

What? He raises his eyebrows and gives me a shit-eating grin. Tony’s happily married, and his news is probably another baby on the way since he and his wife fuck like rabbits.

Nothing. Fuck. I’m screwed. I played my hand, and he’s not going to back off.

Do I sense a kink in Gunner’s armor? Heavy on the kink.

Shit. I shake my head and fall back against the weight bench. Go bother someone else.

Why? He steps forward and rests his hand on the bar, so I can’t lift it without throwing him on his ass. Which is quickly becoming an appealing option.

I’m not interested.

Could have fooled me. Every time she comes into the room, your eyes are glued to her. Why don’t you ask her out? The season doesn’t start for over a month.

Tony. Let it go. I don’t have time for a distraction. I close my eyes and block everything out. I don’t have time for any of this shit.

He taps the bar with something, and the sound reverberates in my ears. Seems like you’re already struggling to focus. See you tonight.

I sense his presence drifting away. After a few moments, I squint just enough to see if he’s gone, but hopefully not enough that if he’s still there, he notices. He’s gone. Thank God. Like I need anyone busting my balls.

I place my hands on the bar and test the weight distribution. The vision of her ass pointing up in the air as she rearranges the dumbbells flashes through my mind, and a surge of adrenaline zips through my veins ending at my dick. Yeah. Not distracted at all.

Chapter Three

Dani

You like him. Ashley crosses her arms and leans against the cushions of the sofa.

No, I don’t. Please, don’t let my face be beet ass red. Sweat breaks out on my chest. Riiight. Like that’s even a remote possibility.

Please. She rolls her eyes. You’re so full of shit.

Why would it matter if I did? Every woman in the city has the hots for him.

Not every woman in the city has free access to him. Training camp’s over. Tomorrow, you’ll be in the gym with him all day. Alone.

We’re not going to be alone. There will be like fifty other dudes there.

Yeah. She stares at me like I’m an idiot.

Maybe I am. Yeah. I probably am for even having this conversation.

She says, Those are all dudes with swinging dicks. You’re one of the three females with tits and a vagina.

I glance down at my chest. I’m not sure if I qualify as having tits. Lord, please just let her shut up about this. I have less than a zero percent chance of getting Gunner Sinclair’s attention. He could have any woman in the city. In the state. Hell, probably the world.

You’ve got more than a mouthful.

I cringe and wrinkle my nose. That sounds fucking creepy. Don’t ever say that again.

Fine. She rolls her eyes and jumps off the sofa. Then, she paces from one end of the coffee table to the other. Besides, that’s not what he’ll truly be interested in. Men want only one thing. She waggles her eyebrows and points to her pelvis. They want the holy grail.

God, I choke out with mock disgust. You’re so crude.

Guuurl, you love me, and you know it. She bobs her head as she says the words.

Let it go. She’s not wrong. I do love her. We’ve been friends forever, and I’m so introverted that without her, I’d still be in the library reading about being an athletic trainer rather than being one.

Nope. The ‘p’ comes out with a pop. You need to be sure you’re properly landscaped and ready for any opportunity that comes up. She laughs and grabs her stomach. Her face is red as she gasps for air. Get it? Comes up?

I chuckle at her ridiculous antics. I get it.

Not good enough. You’ve got to make sure your bush is trimmed. No guy wants to floss his teeth as he’s going down on you.

Fine, I sigh in exasperation while using my hands to push off the sofa. I’ll landscape, brush my teeth, and wear deodorant. Is that good enough?

Perfect. She stops in front of the television blocking my view of the news. Not that I want to see it anymore. It’s too depressing. Wear a pushup bra and some make-up.

I slap my hands on my hips and straighten my shoulders. That’s a hard – no. I’m going to be in the gym for ten hours with a bunch of sweating guys. I’m not wearing a pushup bra under a sport’s top. Nor am I wearing make-up. It would end up smeared down my face making me look like a sobbing televangelist’s wife. I shudder.

Gunner. All day. Sweating. Grunting. Lord, I’ve got to keep my head on straight. I didn’t become an athletic trainer to stare at guys all day. And he won’t be there the whole time. But he’s so