Free Fair Catch - A Football Romance by Emerson Rose Page A

lover to back off.”
    “Will do, bye.”
    Olivia disconnects the call, and I chuckle.
    “She’d never give our table away. She’s too curious. That was a courtesy call to let me know she’s got her list of twenty questions ready and a pen poised to take notes.”
    “Why?”
    “Remember what we were saying about gold diggers?”
    “The part where I said I’m not one?”
    “No, the part where I said it’s hard to find genuine people.”
    “Oh, yes, I remember.”
    “Well, I don’t usually take women to dinner, and especially not at my sister’s restaurant.”
    “So, what does that mean, exactly?”
    “It means Olivia will be interested in knowing everything from your shoe size to your five-year life plan. I guess it also means the extent of my dating only goes as far as a movie and an occasional hookup.”
    “Wow, and I thought my social life was sad. You’ve got some trust issues, huh?”
    “Like I said, gold diggers.”
    “Were you burned by one?”
    “More than once. When I first became a household name, I was naïve. I grew up surrounded by people who loved me. I didn’t know about the users and the manipulators.”
    “I’m sorry. I hope I never have to deal with that.”
    “You won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”
    She doesn’t know it yet, but I plan on being around to watch her become famous—and hopefully, a lot longer.

Chapter 11
    A ngel
    River has the sexiest arms of any man I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some good-looking arms. My male partners need strong arms to do all of the lifting their parts require, and they’re nice, but they don’t hold a candle to River’s.
    The sleeves of his crisp white shirt are rolled up to the middle of his forearms. I’m daydreaming about him wrapping those strong, sculpted arms around my body and pressing me against his.
    I am an arm girl. I love his lean muscles and how they flex under his tanned skin every time he moves. I love the ropy veins that crawl up his forearms and disappear under the sleeves of his shirt. I have a friend who is a nurse. She refers to thick veins as nurse porn, and I’d have to agree, although for different reasons.
    “You okay over there?” he asks.
    “Yeah. You have nice arms.”
    He chuckles. “That’s random.”
    “I was just noticing. I always like to check out a guy's arms. They say a lot about him.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like guys who work out and stay hydrated have these awesome, thick veins.” I reach out and trace an unusually large one from his wrist to his elbow, causing tiny goosebumps to rise on his skin. “And if a guy's arms are sculpted and cut, it’s a pretty good bet the rest of him is too.”
    He nods thoughtfully. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, and FYI, every part of me is perfectly cut.”
    I take a deep breath for the hundredth time since he picked me up tonight. He takes my breath away with his compliments and innuendos.
    River makes my blood boil in the best way. He makes me feel beautiful and smart and important. Abline Clark’s quote from The Help pops into my head. ‘You is smart, you is kind, you is important.’
    I cried when I read that book. I wish someone had told me those things when I was a little girl. Maybe I wouldn’t be so desperate to prove my worth to my parents. The fact that this man whom I’ve only known for fewer than forty-eight hours can make me feel valuable is very significant.
    A lot of guys will compliment you to get you into bed, but River doesn’t have to say anything. I can feel that he thinks I’m beautiful by the way he looks at me. When I speak, he listens intently, like what I have to say is critical information that he’s filing away for future reference.
    “I’m glad I came out tonight. I almost didn’t.”
    He shakes his head back and forth. “I was worried you might cancel. That’s why I didn’t give you my phone number. I also asked the woman at the front desk to take my number off all the paperwork from the Sparks.”
    “Wow,