Dirty: A Brother's Best Friend Sports Star Romantic Comedy (Unexpected Lovers Book 3) by JB Heller

Author:JB Heller [Heller, JB]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-25T18:30:00+00:00

“And then he walked away,” I say, finishing my recount of the recent events with Archer over drinks with my girls at an awesome restaurant called The Aquarium. Sharks, turtles, and other oceanic fish swim all around us in the massive tank that surround the restaurant.

“That’s it? He could have at least kissed you properly,” Em says before shoving a salsa-covered chip in her mouth.

“So, what happens next?” Kins asks.

I shrug. “I have no idea.”

The frown Em’s been sporting since I told her Arch and I didn’t get down and dirty deepens. “What exactly is he waiting for? Some kind of sign that you’re ready, or for you to make the first move?”

“Oh, yes, that,” Kins says, pointing at Em while looking at me. “He wants you to make the next move.”

I sip my wine then ask, “Which is what?”

“Kiss him. Duh,” Em says as if I’m a clueless idiot, which, to be fair, when it comes to anything outside of a one-night stand, I am.

“So, what, you think I should just walk up to him and kiss him? Just like that?”

“Maybe a little more thought than that is required,” Kins suggests. “But first, you need to be sure you’re ready to put the things you perceive to be issues aside.”

“They’re not perceived issues. They’re real, genuine concerns,” I say. “I’ve worked my ass off to be at the top of my game in my career. It takes a lot of time and energy wooing potential clients and proving my worth in the industry.”

“Yeah,” Em agrees. “But you’ve already done that. You’re standing as one of the best agents in the city is rock solid. Due, in part, to the fact that Archer and Bates are your clients. You’re—”

“Exactly!” I blurt, cutting her off. “That’s what I’m saying. Some of my success can be accredited to them putting their faith in me in the first place. Now, if Archer and I start dating, it’s going to look super unprofessional.”

This conversation is giving me a headache. I’ve gone over it a million times in my head. No matter what happens, I’m screwed—either professionally or emotionally. I’m inclined to throw my emotions overboard, but my girls aren’t so ready to give up on me.

“Look, I’ll probably die a successful spinster with a rotation of boy toys on call. And I’m okay with that,” I tell them, taking a hearty swig of my wine.

Sparkling grape juice sprays from Emory’s nose, and she coughs. “I don’t think so, missy. Not on my watch.”

Of course the die-hard romantic would have a coronary over my love life.

Storm, who has been unusually quiet through the conversation, says, “You’re making this all more complicated than it needs to be.”

I twist my head to stare at her. “Oh really?”

She nods as she unlatches baby Seb from her boob then props him on her shoulder and pats his back. “Do you love him?”

“Love?” I sputter. “Who said anything about the L-word?”

Seb lets out a ripper burp for such a tiny thing, and Storm hands him over to Em who’s doing grabby hands at her.

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