Free Game For Love: Gridiron Heartbreaker (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Gridiron Bad Boys Book 2) by Melissa Blue

good?”
    “Serviceable. Stay away from the seafood. It'll only piss you off.”
    He dropped his hands away and strolled over to the nightstand. She met him halfway and scanned the menu. “I'm not a snob, but I'd stay away from the Italian dishes. Some of these pairings...”
    He laughed. “Noted. What do you want?”
    She picked a chicken salad and a side order of seasoned fries. He snatched up the phone on the nightstand and ordered everything else for himself that wasn't Italian or seafood.
    The suite had everything any small apartment would, so she relaxed on the couch while he finished up the call. She tried to ignore the sudden discomfort wanting to dig in. But despite their many, many conversations, she knew next to nothing about Blaine.
    She didn't know if she should find out more. What were they doing with each other? She was a chef and he traveled the country playing football and getting paid an obscene amount of money.
    Maybe he could see every unasked question on her face because when he sat beside her, he only took her hand, skating his thumb over the ridges and lines.
    “So this is the part where you do your CIA thing,” he murmured.
    “What?” she said and couldn't help but laugh.
    “Where were you born? What were you doing last Saturday at 9:05 p.m. I sweat and answer. And at some point I reply in a way that concludes the interrogation.”
    “I wasn't,” she lied. “I'm...curious.”
    “The French Quarter,” he said.
    Her brows slashed down. “What?”
    “That's where I was at 9:05 p.m. last Saturday.” He shrugged before leaning back on the couch cushions. The dark gray fabric seemed to welcome him in. “The opposing team took us out for a night on the town. Southern hospitality is real. You'd love it there. The food is so good.”
    Her shoulders lowered. That easily he'd made her feel comfortable. “I know enough about football and you to hurt myself. So what happened after Michigan State?”
    “Personal or professional?”
    She pursed her lips. She'd watched him play, riveted by him on the TV screen. If she hadn't seen his last name blazed across the back of his uniform, she wouldn't have thought it was the same man. The man on the field was focused, serious and his every tense emotion was displayed. He'd only smiled once before that last sack had given him a concussion.
    “I do not doubt for one second you've fought for everything you wanted in your career. I also won't pretend I know everything you talk about. I know about drafts, not necessarily how they work. I know about getting traded but not the details. I know when I saw you on the field, your intensity kind of took my breath away.”
    He lifted his hand then clutched hers into his. Another second passed and he pressed his mouth to her knuckles. Her heart skipped at the caress.
    “Then you know enough about my work.” He pinned her with his gaze. “About me, do you know enough?”
    “I don't know.” She squeezed his hand. “What are we?”
    “I decided to flirt with an eagle-eyed chef who wanted to chop my nuts. And now I think I'm in a relationship with her. I’m pretty sure I am since I called her my girlfriend. Or at least that's what my mother told me, but she's biased. She wants grandkids any way she can get them.”
    “Your mother?” Did he know he dropped the word grandkids into the conversation without blinking? “You have a good relationship with her?”
    He flashed her an amused smile. “Not a mama's boy and I don't hate my mother, therefore women.” His expression turned somber. He drew a finger down hers. “She was diagnosed with diabetes. She lost two of her fingers. She lives with me and that means she's all up in my life right now.”
    The way he said both with a blush and a small smile, made her want to smile back. “You love her.”
    “She's been my biggest cheerleader. My dad wasn't around. She got me to every game. Made sure I stayed on the right path.”
    “And yet you still...”
    He pressed a