Dating the Defensive Back (The Nash Brothers Book 1)
Chapter 7

I Probably Should’ve Told Him

A text from Kelly interrupts me just as I’m getting out of the back of the Uber. I glance quickly at the screen.

Kelly: You okay? You sure about all this?

I know why she’s asking.

I just broke up with Colin last night, and tonight I’m heading to Grayson Nash’s hotel room with him under no pretense that we’re going up to his room as old friends even though he’s taking me to dinner first.

He still doesn’t even know who I am, and I’m still thinking I don’t want him to.

And he also doesn’t know what Kelly knows.

I’m a virgin.

Yep, that’s right. I’m twenty-five, I was in a long-term relationship with my ex, and I haven’t had sex yet.

To be fair, I wanted to. But Colin wanted to wait until marriage…which is why I thought wedding bells would have been ringing by now.

We met at our college freshman orientation. We were friends first, and it took him two years to ask me out.

He’s not particularly religious or anything, and neither am I. We just…didn’t for the first year of our relationship even though we did everything else, and I think it was because we were friends first for so long. Then it became this big huge thing, and we agreed without ever really having a big talk about it that we were waiting for our wedding night.

I always had this thought in my head that if Colin and I ever broke up, I’d go out and blow my V-card on the first guy who came along. I didn’t want it to be a big huge thing anymore.

And somehow the stars aligned and brought me Grayson Nash on a silver platter.

If there’s a single man who has starred in my dreams of this moment more than any other man, it’s him.

Colin included.

I feel like the monkey face with the hands covering the eyes emoji over that admission.

But I’ve been dreaming of Grayson Nash for many more years than I even knew Colin, so mathematically…I don’t care.

Me: I’m positive.

He walks around to my side of the car and grabs my hand, and it feels so natural as my fingers slide between his.

Those butterflies are flapping. Wildly.

I’ve never had my engine revving quite like this, and I literally want to kick my feet in the air.

Is this it? Or is it just the crush pulsing all these feelings in me?

One thing is definite. I never, ever felt like this with Colin.

Colin was stable. He’s a good guy, and he’ll make a great husband for somebody. But I was tired of the complacent place where we landed.

I want the butterflies. I want the feet kicking.

And I feel it with Grayson. You know…the guy who just told me he’s not sure he can give me anything more than one night.

But I’ll take what I can get where Grayson Nash is concerned.

Instead of heading toward the elevators as I’m expecting, he heads to the left. We walk through the casino and stop in front of a café.

I glance over at him with a clear question in my eyes, and his eyes meet mine. His are twinkling a little.

“You requested a date first. I hope this café will do.”

My chest tightens as emotion seems to fill me. It’s silly, really. So I asked for dinner first.

But he didn’t have to remember that I asked, and he certainly didn’t have to actually take me out—especially not after the way things heated up between us.

He did it anyway.

It feels more romantic than my entire five years with Colin.

I realize I’m making comparisons, and I don’t want to fall into the rebound trap. I really don’t think that’s what this is, especially since a big part of me knew it was over with Colin a long time ago.

Instead, this feels like every dream I’ve had since I was a preteen is coming true…except he has no idea who I am.

The host seats us at a round booth in the back of the café, indirectly giving us privacy even though we didn’t ask for it.

I’ll take it.

We sit, and I peruse the menu as I try to replace the exact right thing to order—something light enough that I can do what comes next with enough protein to give me stamina. I don’t want to look like a rabbit who pecks at her salad, but I’m also a little nervous, so I don’t want anything too greasy.

I glance over at Grayson, and he’s perusing the appetizers.

A thrill runs up my spine.

I can’t believe I’m actually here about to eat dinner with him. How is this my life?

He must feel my gaze on him because he glances up. “What are you ordering?”

I clear my throat. “Oh, um…I haven’t decided yet. You?”

“Want to split some appetizers?”

“Sure.”

“What do you like?”

Men named Grayson. I force my eyes to the menu. “The pretzel?”

He nods. “And the nachos.”

“Absolutely.” And definitely not the garlic fries.

“Drink?” he asks.

“Definitely.”

He nods, and the server comes by to take our order. He takes over with our food order, and he orders himself a glass of Hendricks. “And a vodka cranberry for my date.”

My date.

Grayson Nash just called me his date.

I squeal in my mind.

“How’d you know?” I ask.

“I saw your glass back at the bar,” he admits, and then he leans in a little closer. “But I also tasted it on your tongue, and I want to taste it again.”

I clear my throat as heat climbs up my spine. “You drink straight gin?”

He nods. “It’s my usual drink of choice. Low carb, low calorie.”

“But the taste…” I trail off and make a face.

“You weren’t complaining in the back of the Uber.” His reply is cocky and confident.

“Neither were you,” I shoot back.

He chuckles. “No, I wasn’t. I had to pull myself together if I’m being honest.” He clears his throat and shifts his position under the table. “So, Cookie, tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” I ask, riding a line here. Do I tell him who I am?

I don’t want to. I like being the mystery woman he just met, not the girl he remembers as his best friend’s little sister.

“Did you grow up in Nevada?”

I shake my head. “I went to UNLV and fell in love with Vegas, so I decided to stay. What about you?” I toss the question back to him to try to get the heat off me. The less I have to admit about my background, the better the chance that he won’t put two and two together.

“I originated in New York, went to Nebraska, was drafted by Buffalo, where I played for two years, played in Los Angeles for eight years, and here I am, ready to make another move,” he says.

“Do you like moving around?”

He lifts a shoulder. “No. Honestly, the whole process of having to pack up and move is…overwhelming. I have to sell my place in LA and replace somewhere to live out here.”

“Can’t you stay with a teammate? Or one of your brothers?” I ask.

“I could, but I don’t want to. Linc’s married now, and his wife is expecting a baby at the end of the month. And Asher…he’s Asher. He’s got his own set of shit to deal with, but he’s been living with my dad since his suspension started. The idea of backtracking to live with a parent after so many years on my own is…” He makes a face that indicates his distaste over the idea.

“I get that. I love my family, but I wouldn’t want to live with any of them anymore.” I wrinkle my nose, too. “So will you buy a place out here?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m looking at a couple places tomorrow before I head back to LA to talk to my coaches and pack up.” He presses his lips together in a way that makes me think he’s not looking forward to either of those things.

I almost offer to help him when I realize how out of place that would sound.

“So tell me the truth,” I say, leaning in conspiratorially. “Is this going to be your last season?”

He gives me a wry smile. “If I knew the answer to that, I’d tell you. Part of me thought last season was going to be it, but I wasn’t ready to hang it up. I’m excited for the chance to play with my brothers.”

I tilt my head as I study him. “You sound like you’re talking to the press, but I’m not the press.”

He eyes me for a long moment before he responds to that. “I don’t know you, though. How do I know what I say to you stays between us?”

“You don’t,” I answer honestly. “But what does your intuition tell you about me? Do you think I’ll run out of here and tell everyone your secrets if you confide in me?”

“No,” he admits. “You seem…kind. You don’t seem like the kind of person who would do that.”

“I’m not.”

“Then you tell me a secret, and I’ll tell you one.” His tone is a challenge.

“I broke up with my boyfriend last night.”

He looks taken aback by my admission.

Before he can respond to that, I add, “It was over a long time ago. We’ve been long-distance for a while, and I was waiting to see him in person to do it. When that opportunity didn’t come, well…” I shrug.

His jaw slackens a little. “So this, you and me, tonight…this is a rebound bang?”

I laugh. “No. You’re Grayson Nash. I would’ve called him to break up with him the second you approached me at the bar just to be free and clear of him for a shot with you.”

He dramatically puts his hand on his chest. “I’m flattered.”

My cheeks flush. “Now you go.”

His eyes shift over to the aquarium that spans the entire wall of the restaurant behind us. “My father beat into us from a young age that the game comes first above all else, and for a long time, I thought it fucked all four of us up. But Linc’s married, Spence is engaged…and I don’t know. I don’t know what comes next when my playing days are done, and I think it’s why I’m back for another season.” He glances back at me. “It’ll be fun playing with my brothers. That’s not a line. But the truth is…I’m tired. I’m only thirty-two, but it’s getting harder and harder on my body. On my knees, my back. I feel like an eighty-year-old man who can hardly get out of bed some days, and I don’t know how much longer I can put my body through it.” He moves his eyes back to the aquarium. “But when I think about really giving up this life, really retiring…I don’t know if I can do it. I have nothing waiting for me on the other side. Coaching, probably, which is easier on my body but doesn’t change my schedule. Beyond that, I’m not sure.” He looks at me again, and I’m surprised at his vulnerability with me.

I reach over and squeeze his hand. “I think it’s okay not to be sure, Grayson.” My voice is low. “Thirty-two is still young. You can keep playing. You can try coaching. Or maybe there’s something else out there for you. It’s all about being in the right place at the right time, and what’s meant to happen will happen when it’s supposed to.”

His eyes meet mine. Our fingers are still twined together, electricity flying between us, and I get the feeling that the two of us running into each other tonight is one of those examples of being in the right place at the right time.

Maybe the preteen in me wasn’t such a dummy when it came to Grayson Nash. I just had to bide my time and wait for this moment.

He opens his mouth to say something when the server appears at the end of our table with our drinks, snapping the intimacy right out of the moment.

He holds up his gin, and I hold up my vodka drink.

“To the right place at the right time,” he says.

I clink his glass with mine, and some sort of unspoken promise passes between us as we each take a sip.

This should feel awkward, right? It’s like a first date, but we both know it’s going to end in his hotel room, and maybe we’ll even have breakfast together. I have to work tomorrow, but that’s a minor detail. So I’ll be tired in the morning. I was tired and hungover when I got up today, but it’s not stopping me right now.

“What’s your favorite thing about Vegas?” he asks.

“The weather, except for the super-hot months.”

“How long have you been here?” he asks.

“Seven years now.”

He twists his lips a little and runs his hand through his hair. “Maybe when I get back you can show me around a little.”

My brows shoot up in surprise. I’m about to remind him that he’s the one who made the early call that he can’t promise anything beyond tonight, but if he’s interested in seeing me again, there’s no way in hell I’m bringing that up. “I’d love to.” I pull my phone out before I lose my nerve and pull up a new contact screen. I slide the phone over to him. “Type in your number.”

To my surprise, he does, and he texts Cookie to himself. He saves my contact in his phone, too.

Holy shit.

Grayson Nash just gave me his number.

It’s all these little things that keep shocking me, but it’s also these little things that mean a lot to me.

Our appetizers arrive, and he rips off a chunk of pretzel and hands it to me to go first. I dip it in the cheese sauce and let out a soft moan of delight at the flavors.

He visibly shifts again, and I love that I have this power over him. It makes me feel bold and powerful and sexy—something I never felt with my ex.

In fact, just about everything about tonight is different from anything I’ve felt before.

And I’m not going to be ready to let that go when the sun rises tomorrow.