Scoring the Quarterback by SM Soto

Author:SM Soto [Soto, SM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inkspell Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-05-14T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Natalia

The last week and a half, the Bar and Grille has been crazy packed. I don’t even remember the last time I had a day off. CJ’s Bar and Grille was featured on Guy Fieri’s show, and on Travel channel’s Food Paradise. In the last week, we’ve had more tourists come in to try out the food than we’ve ever had in a whole month. It’s been insane! To top it off, school has been taking up most of my time with the impending finals for the end of the semester. We have about a month and a half before the semester is finally over.

No more Luke Caldwell.

I’m trying not to dwell on it. I should be happy, but I’m not. I don’t want our strange friendship to end, but I know without a doubt, once this semester ends, I can say bye-bye to Luke.

I’m husting back into the kitchen with an arm full of dirty plates when I almost crash into Sam, who surprisingly looks a little frazzled.

“Fuck it’s crazy in here!”

“Tell me about it. My feet are killing me,” I whine.

“Can we take a break yet?” Aliza groans, popping up beside me.

“I fucking wish, Ohio,” Sam says. “That reminds me, Nat, I forgot to tell you your boyfriend stopped by today again, hoping to catch you for work. We actually had a decent conversation. Your boyfriend is pretty funny.”

I do my best to ignore the fluttering in my belly and keep a straight face for Sam. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Mmmhmm, keep telling yourself that,” Sam tosses over her shoulder as she heads back to the bar.

I roll my eyes and catch Aliza’s look. She purses her lips. “I’m not gonna even say anything.”

I groan and stalk toward the kitchen to drop off the plates and take out more orders. I don’t have time to worry about Luke or my friends, I just need to make it out of my shift alive.

By the time I walk into the apartment, my legs feel numb and my feet feel like I’ve been walking in twelve-inch heels all day long. I force myself to get in the shower and wash off the food smell clinging to my skin. I love CJ and all, but right now, I’m really cursing him for having such a booming business. I’m literally counting the days down until my day off. I plan to sleep all day and rest ice packs on the soles of my feet until the throbbing goes away. I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up with blisters on my feet.

I spit a mouthful of toothpaste in the sink while simultaneously putting night cream on my face, when Sam suddenly starts pounding on the bathroom door like a complete psychopath.

“You’ve got company!” she yells in a singsong voice. I freeze with my toothbrush in my mouth, and rinse quickly. What the hell is she talking about? Yanking the bathroom door open, I’m greeted by a smug looking Sam, leaning against the wall.

“The quarterback is here.

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