The Problem with Sports by M.E. Clayton

Author:M.E. Clayton [Clayton, M.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-14T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Nathan~

I was a grown ass man. I shouldn’t be this nervous.

But I was.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t some woman following me up to my hotel room after a win and taking it for what it was. This wasn’t a fan tossing every compliment out there in an attempt to lure me with flattery. Christ, Andie had no idea who I was when we first met, and she’s hardly been impressed since finding out.

I’ve never dated before. I’ve slept with my fair share of women, but I’ve never dating anyone past my junior year in college when the MLB had become a real possibility. I hadn’t wanted to divide my attention between proving my talents to my team and proving my faithfulness to a girlfriend back home. I wanted to be worth the money I was being paid, and I wanted to deserve the adoration of the fans.

Now, had I been madly in love at the time I had made that decision, that decision might not have been made, but I hadn’t been. And I’d seen too much cheating in my playing years to know that I would have lost my concentration of the game had I been seriously involved with someone. I would have spent all my spare time convincing my girl or wife that I was being faithful. And not because she’d be the insecure one, but because I would be. The last thing I’d ever want my wife to fear was my faithfulness.

So, Andie was the first woman I’ve ever asked on a date, and she was the first woman who came without an underlining understanding that she was expected to leave before the sun came up the next morning. Not that sex was on the table for tonight, because I knew it wasn’t.

I knocked on Andie’s door, and waited as patiently as I could until she answered the door. All day I’d been promising myself that I’d act the perfect gentleman tonight, but that kiss has been haunting me since the second I had walked out of her condo after kissing her. Her reaction hadn’t been fake or overexaggerated to spare my fragile professional baseball player’s ego. She hadn’t sworn it was the best kiss of her life, which, admittedly, the best kiss of her life should be the one she shared with Steven on their wedding day, but I didn’t want to think about that. His loss, my gain, and all that jazz.

The door swung open, and I almost swallowed my tongue.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Andie’s golden hair was loose around her shoulders, and the goddamn strands looked like they were shimmering. Her makeup was minimal, but effective. Her brown eyes seemed darker, her cheeks looked pinker, and her lips seemed thicker.

Looking my fill, the woman was dressed in a simple light green blouse with a dark black skirt and black heels. However, the blouse wasn’t gaping, the skirt wasn’t tight, and the heels weren’t hooker-inch. The outfit was perfectly respectable and there was nothing provocative about it.

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