The Problem with Players Read Online Brittainy C. Cherry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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I grabbed the handle of her suitcase and pulled it into my house. She followed me.

“Let me grab you a towel,” I said quickly before darting down the hallway into the bathroom. I came back with two and wrapped one around her shoulders as she took the other and began drying her hair.

“Thanks.”

“Of course. I already have a room set up for you.” I grabbed her suitcase and pulled it down the hallway. I observed her taking notice of all the family photographs against my wall, but she stayed quiet as she trailed me.

Once we reached her room, I flipped on the light, and she tilted her head. “What’s that on the bed?”

“Oh. It’s a welcome basket. I had it made up when I thought you might stay with me. It has all kinds of stuff in it that you might need, including a few snacks. I tossed some towels into the attached bathroom for you, too.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You had a welcome basket made for me? What if I didn’t show up?”

“I thought of it as a ‘just in case Avery comes over’ basket. I would’ve moved it soon enough, but I guess it worked out.”

She looked perplexed by the idea of it but didn’t argue with me. That was somewhat surprising. Avery’s favorite pastime was arguing with me.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “That’s actually really nice.”

“Don’t thank me too much. My mom did most of the work. Perks of living on a family farm with a welcome-basket-loving mother.”

“Your mom knows you were offering me a spot to stay here?”

“She asked if you were okay after the wedding situation. I told her I offered you a spot if you needed it. She got to work on the basket right away. She also made me straighten up my place, too. I’m not this neat on my own,” I joked.

“I know. I remember sneaking into your place when we were younger. Your room was worse than the pigpens.”

“I’m glad to tell you I’m not that bad anymore. I’ll let you settle in. The fridge in the kitchen is stocked, too—with non-expired food this go-round. Let me know if you need anything. We can check in with one another in the morning.”

“This isn’t going to be a long-term thing,” she expressed. “Willow’s bus had a leakage issue, and the apartment complex in town has no vacancies until the end of the school year, but I’m going to keep looking for something else.”

“You can stay here as long as you need, Ave.”

“I think the last thing you want is to live with a bitter, almost-married woman while you’re single and, well, mingling.” She grimaced and tugged gently on her earlobe. “If you’re mingling, that is.”

“Right.” I smirked. “Of course.”

“Are you?” she asked as she glanced down at the carpet. “Are you currently mingling with anyone?”

“Are you asking me if I’m single, Coach?”

“It’s none of my business, but if you’re having women come in and out of this place⁠—”

“I’m not dating.”

“Oh.” She nodded once. “Well, are you, you know… Is there a rotating door or something going on around here?”

I narrowed my eyes. “A rotating door?”

“You know. With different women coming in and out at mysterious hours.”

I laughed. “Are you asking if I run a brothel?”

“No,” she shot out. Then she shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. Listen, I get it. You’re single and famous and handsome. You can get any woman you want. You might not be dating, but you might be banging, and I don’t want to be in here cockblocking you.”

I snickered and grinned. “Did you just call me handsome?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically as she groaned. “That’s the one thing you picked up on?”

“It sounded like the only thing that mattered.”

“It’s like there’s nothing in that peanut-sized brain of yours. Nothing but energy drinks, pre-workout, and vibes.”

I leaned against the doorframe as I flexed one arm. “What can I say? I’m just a simple, handsome guy with a rotating door of women coming to have sex with me.”

“Ugh. You know what? Never mind. Forget I asked. I was trying to be polite and allow space for you to get your whistle wet, but forget I even brought it up.”

I whistled low. “Don’t worry, Coach. My whistle hasn’t been wet in a mighty long time. Unless we are counting my faithful bottle of lotion and my own spit.”

“Nathaniel. Have you ever heard of oversharing?”

“You’re the one who made it sound like I’m the town’s slut.”

“I didn’t! I just assumed that you were getting…” Her words faded off as a sly bit of shyness hit her cheeks. “Never mind, okay?”

“You thought I was going to pound town regularly in the land of pussy, huh?”

“Don’t say pussy.”

“Okay, vaginas.”

“Don’t say that either.”

“Okay, lip land. The folds? The inverted hillside?”

“Oh my gosh. I get it. I now see why you’re not getting laid. You’re annoying and corny.”


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