A good friend who was protective and knew exactly what footballers could be like. He knew what I had been like, or a little ofwhatI liked, and we weren’t referring to vanilla milkshakes or thread count on sheets.
After what could’ve been a publicity nightmare, I’d learned to keep my private life exactly that. The two women I’d been seeing had both signed non-disclosure agreements quite happily, and there was a reason they were seeing me in a way that didn’t involve restaurants and bars, or cosy dates for which they got a manicure and dressed up.
Nate had been the person I’d told when my ex had threatened to go to the media with a story that would’ve seriously affected my career and earnings. I wouldn’t be the captain of my team, and my endorsement deals would’ve been with very different sorts of companies. Not family-friendly ones. My life would’ve been over in so many ways.
As it was, he hadn’t judged when he heard the voicemail she left and saw the photos she’d sent. He’d kept me calm and stopped me from doing anything stupid. He’d sat with me while my solicitor had worked her magic, getting an injunction so the story couldn’t be published and then I’d settled with her, giving her enough money that she could sponsor a small country and making sure she signed an agreement whereby if she ever mentioned to anyone anything about us, she’d lose everything.
Just like I almost had. I’d almost lost everything in front of Nate.
Which was why when Jerrica had tried to kiss me, I’d bolted.
“I think it’s a good idea. Jez needs a job, and you need a driver.” Nate stood up. “Want a beer, Jesse?”
I nodded. “I’ll get them. You stay with Amber.” I looked at Jez. “More wine?”
She shook her head. “I think I’ll just get a juice.”
She followed me into the kitchen, her perfume musky, the same one she’d been wearing that night.
“I’ll find a reason so I can’t be your driver. Nate won’t let it go.” She kept her voice low as well as standing a good four feet away from me. “And I’m so fucking sorry, Jesse.”
I opened the fridge, pulling out two bottles of beer. It was off-season, so our diets and drinks weren’t monitored. An afternoon of having a few drinks in my friend’s private garden wasn’t going to raise any red flags.
The only red flag right now was Jerrica standing there in those shorts that showed off legs that were stupidly long and toned.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Her blonde curls bounced as she shook her head again. “I made you feel awkward enough to speed so fast away from me that you lost your licence. I read it wrong. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Now, I felt like an utter shit. The girl was beating herself up, thinking I was grossed out by her.
“You didn’t read it wrong. But there’s no way your brother would let me live if he thought I’d been anywhere near you.” I popped open one of the beers and took a swig. “None of it was your fault.”
Green eyes, just like her brother’s, looked back at me. “So if he wasn’t my brother, you would’ve — ”
I shook my head. “If he wasn’t your brother, we wouldn’t know each other, so let’s not play that game.” I sounded like a bastard, but I didn’t want to encourage her. She was all sunshine and light, and I definitely didn’t walk on that light side when it came to what I liked off the pitch and behind very closed doors.
Plus, Nate.
She nodded, just once. “No reason why I can’t be your driver then, is there?”
More beer was needed. “None at all.” Other than it was a stupid idea. She had better things to do than be my chauffeur.
“Then why don’t we discuss rates of pay.”
I frowned. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I don’t sponge off my brother, even though he’s tried. I’m working on something now, but I won’t know for another six months or more whether I can rely on it as an income. I have savings, but I don’t want to dip into that too much. I need a job, but I don’t want something that distracts me from — you know — my thing.”
I leaned back against the kitchen island while she went in the fridge, bending down to get the pitcher of fruit juice that was Amber’s life blood. I didn’t even try to not stare at her ass.
It would look good with my hand on it.
I cracked my knuckles. Having Nate’s little sister driving me around was going to drive me mad. It would be the worst sort of punishment. Part of me, the side of me that always went for the tattoos where they’d hurt the most, relished the thought. A little torture never did anyone any harm.
It wasn’t my job to protect her, not really. If this job suited her and she was offering, then why not?
“What’s yourthing?”
