Page 28 of Fashionista's Playbook

Moriah looked back at me; the corner of her mouth tilted up in a half-smile. She hadn’t been afraid of Vin, but worried we’d fought about her. We had, but I wouldn’t put that on her. Especially since Vin was deflecting.

“What’s this?” She gestured to the television.

“I’m breaking down game tape.” With my free hand, I grabbed my notebook from the other side of the couch. “Making notes for the game.”

“Really?” Her eyes flashed with interest as she looked over the notebook. Then she shook her head. “I don’t know enough about football to make sense of any of that. And I really should, since I work for you.”

“Want a rundown of it?”

“Sure.” She beamed at me. “Though it's probably less dramatic than what I watch.”

“You’d be surprised.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Moriah

“You’d think working for a pro football player would be more glamorous.” Rumer mused, hidden behind the stack of shelves lined with every brand of athletic sock known to man.

“There’s a certain type Travis likes, but it’s made by the rival of his endorsement deal. He doesn’t want to be the one to come in and buy rival socks—so he sent me. Plus, they’re on sale.” I’d filled the basket over my arm with every pair his size. Blacks, grays, whites, crews and ankle.

Rumer stopped at the end of the rack and hefted her basket higher on her hip. “Who in their right mind needs this many socks?” She scrunched up her face in animated annoyance like only she could.

I headed toward the register. Hanging out, shopping with Rumer, made me feel normal in a way I hadn’t the past few weeks. I wasn’t wearing a disguise, just being me. “A big, sweaty, smelly guy who changes clothes constantly because of his job?”

“You forgot the other part.” She slid into step beside me, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

When I shot her a bewildered look, she hooted a laugh. “Smoking hot.”

He wasdefinitelythat. Going to work every day with a view like that wasn’t a chore. “He’s really honest andkind.”

Nothing like the asshole jocks my sister always dated—and eventually married. Travis wasn’t the type of guy who made fun of people or poked at their insecurities.

Vincent probably was.

I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that Travis’ busted hand and fight with his brother had been about me being there while he was gone.

The fierce sense of loyalty to Travis that I’d developed was the only reason I hadn’t told him what Vincent had said to me when he was drunk. Travis had been good to me and Vincent was the only family he had.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Rumer watched me with intense interest.

“No. I mean yes, of course I like him, he's a great guy. But, I’m not…” I was about to say I wasn’t attracted to him. Which was a complete lie. How could I not be?

I’d not had sex in so long I’d forgotten what it was like. But with a body like that, nothing I’d experienced would compare. My skin heated.

Rumer laughed and I frantically pushed thoughts of sex with Travis out of my head.

“Doesn’t he have a brother? Is he single?”

“I don’t think he’s your type.” I tried to keep my panic from showing. “He spent time in prison.”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “I might like a bad boy.”

I jerked to a stop in the middle of the store. “Absolutely not.” Then I continued toward the register filling her in on what had happened with Vincent while Travis was out of town.

“He’s an asshole.” Rumer’s sweet face went cold.

The cashier gave us a weird look. Ignored it and put my basket on the counter. “He is, but I haven’t had to deal with him since.”

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