Free Gunslinger: A Sports Romance by Lisa Lang Blakeney Page A

he ever has. "I think this is the first time I've ever seen you in a pair of jeans."
    I think it's his version of a polite compliment, but funny how the only thing I can think of is how Saint seems to like me in my skirts.  
    "Is the chicken ready?"
    Oh, right the chicken.
    "Yeah, it smells ready. Did you want something to drink while I'm in there?"
    "Do you have any beer?"
    "Sure do. I'll be right back."
    As I walk towards the kitchen, I turn back around to take a quick look at Jason. It's weird having him in my house. I mean I've always dreamed of spending a lazy Sunday afternoon with him, but I never thought it would be because of a football tutoring session. I also thought I'd feel more excited about it. What's my problem? I decide to check in with Marisol really quickly about it.
    Me: I feel like I'm 14 again.
    Marisol: Awww, why?
    Me: Because I feel the need to check in with you about my love life.
    Marisol: Love life?! I like the sound of that. Is my boy there?
    Me: Don't be so excited. He's here, but I'm not on cloud nine like I thought I'd be. I don't know what I'm feeling.
    Marisol: You're just nervous.
    Me: Maybe
    Marisol: He just got there. Give it some time. Stop overanalyzing everything, and for God's sake drink something alcoholic. It will loosen you up.
    Me: Lol! I'll try.
    After bringing out the wings, some blue cheese for dipping, a beer for him and ice water for me, I settle down on the couch making sure that I am sitting an appropriate distance from him. I don't want it to appear as if I'm under any delusions that this is a date. The word "professional" keeps ringing in my ears in Saint's accusatory voice.  
    "So right now these five guys are talking about all the games that will be played in the NFC conference today. Then if we click to another channel we'll see another team of analysts talking about the games coming up in the AFC. Each network has an exclusive deal with the conference games they show. The Nighthawks are in the NFC, so that's why we're watching this channel."
    "Gotcha."
    I should probably be taking notes, but how hard can this be? It's not rocket science.  
    Jason takes a bite of one of my wings and seems pleased with what he tastes. It's actually a family recipe. I have a lot of family from Buffalo, New York where any self respecting citizen knows how to make a good Buffalo-styled hot wing.
    "Wow, these are good. I'm going to have to add a mile to my run tomorrow, because I'm going to eat a lot of these today."
    "Good. I couldn't find any healthy football snack recipes online. Not ones that sounded good anyway," I chuckle. "So I made these."
    It's no secret in the office that Jason is one of the most health conscious employees we have, but I do know a few things about sports and one is that most men like junk when they watch football, and definitely not crudités.
    "Aww that's all right. We can make this our cheat day. No big deal."
    I already had my protein shake and a handful of raw almonds before he got here. Hot wings would throw me completely off track. I only made them because I've been told that I make really good ones. I'm sure he won't notice that I'm not eating them.
    "Look," Jason points to the screen. "They're talking about your new client."

    "So do you think it's a slow start or is there something very wrong with Nighthawk's star Saint Stevenson?"
    "Well I don't think we can blame him for everything that's wrong with the Nighthawks, Bill."
    "Not everything but a lot. When there's no strong leadership, there's no strength, and Stevenson is definitely not leading the Nighthawks in the right direction this season."
    "Or last season." Another commentator adds.
    "I don't know where the Gunslinger is that we saw back in Capital City. He hasn't been able to consistently get any deep passes into the end zone this season."
    "His QBR rating is pretty low so far."
    "I have some hope for the kid. I still think he can turn this around. He was the number one draft pick for a