Free Tackled by the Girl Next Door by Veronica Forand, Susan Scott Shelley Page B

sweatshirt, she tapped his shin until he made more room for her. He shifted his legs next to the coffee on the table. And sighed. This place was better than home.
    “Thanks for breakfast. Someday, I’ll make you some pancakes or something.” She leaned back into the pillows and stretched her legs next to his. Her darkened eyes showed the strain of the night before.
    “You always make lunch, so we’re even. You okay after last night?”
    “Embarrassed, but physically fine.” Her brown hair pulled into a ponytail revealed a scratch on the side of her neck. Not physically fine. The thought of her being manhandled by a bunch of overgrown adolescents sent his blood boiling, but he held his temper. She didn’t need to handle another angry male in her house.
    Ten months after her husband had died in Iraq, her mother had died in a car accident. Her mother’s death forced her to give up a job she loved and move home to help her brother finish high school and pay for his college. The little shit didn’t deserve her as a sister. “Is he home?”
    “No. I’m sure he’s sleeping off the alcohol at a friend’s house. I hope so.”
    The memories of her wide-eyed expression and her shaky voice trying to hold onto some dignity as the group of college boys knocked into her would forever be tattooed on his soul. How could anyone harm someone like Sam? She was the nicest person he knew.
    He’d have a talk with Kevin when he returned, and Kevin may not like the tone of the conversation. “Good thing he left. If he or one of his homeboys ever lays a hand on you again, I swear, their balls will be shoved so far down their throats, they’ll pass for ovaries.”
    She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Thanks for the image.”
    Her smiling face helped him relax. He handed her coffee to her. “Extra light, two sugars.”
    “I’m impressed you always remember.” She reached for a chocolate-frosted donut. “I don’t understand how Brittney could give you up for a loser famous for being a loser.”
    “Don’t trash Brittney. She’s a sweet kid.”
    “You amaze me. Two days after you’re permanently sidelined with a knee injury, she dumps you for a reality television star, and you call her a sweet kid.”
    She took a bite of the donut, and chocolate covered her top lip. Not the most graceful eater, she bit into the donut again and ended up with frosting on her chin as well. Jason shook his head and wiped it off with his finger. He licked the chocolate off his finger and took another sip of coffee.
    “Thanks.”
    “No problem. Don’t worry about Brittney. My heart came out of the relationship in one piece. I wasn’t looking for forever when we dated, and neither was she.”
    “I could never be so blasé about someone I slept with.”
    Jason didn’t try to explain it to her. She’d never understand. She was the settle down and raise a family type of woman. Hell, she’d probably have had a handful of kids by now if Alex hadn’t been gunned down by an insurgent Iraqi at age twenty-five. What a waste. They’d made a great couple.
    Sam drank her coffee and finished her donut while Jason flipped through pre-game shows, most of them giving piss-poor predictions of the afternoon games.
    “You’re doing it again,” she said.
    “What?”
    “Arguing with the television.”
    “So.” He hated poor commentary.
    “If you miss the game so much, maybe you should find a job to keep you in football, like coaching or commentating.”
    “I’m not ready.” He needed to start making plans for his future but wanted to enjoy the transition period from a regimented schedule of practices and games to the less scripted life of a thirty-four-year-old ex-athlete a little while longer.
    “Sorry,” Sam said.
    “No problem. You’re the last person I feel pressure from. That’s why I like watching the games in your living room.”
    “I thought it was for the free beer and homemade chili at lunch.”
    “That too.”
    “Do you mind if I run