Game of Inches
Football is our life, but love is what will save us.
Our one-night hook-up somehow morphed into friendship.
Neither of us wants anything more involved . . . or do we?
I swore off dating athletes years ago. I’m completely committed to my career in politics and public relations, and I love being a single woman, thank you very much.
When I met Gideon Maynard at our friends’ engagement party, the attraction between was instant and undeniable. Still, I’m smart enough to know that a relationship isn’t in the cards for us. Being friends is enough for me . . . until it isn’t. And that scares the hell out of me.
People call me football royalty. Generations of my family have played this game, owned the teams, run the leagues . . . and as starting quarterback for the Richmond Rebels, I guess I’m fulfilling some kind of destiny. But I don’t care about any of that. I live and breathe football because the rest of my life is broken and empty.
The moment I spotted Sarah Jenkins at that party, I knew she was trouble for me. One night might not have been enough to get her out of my system, but it’s all I can risk . . . even if I can’t stop myself from wanting her.
When steamy nights and passionate kisses aren’t enough anymore, I’m tempted to try for something deeper, even if that means believing in scary ideas like trust and forgiveness.
If only love were as simple as football.