Page 6 of Rookie Season
Sounds good, but hurry if you can, not sure how long we’ll be in one place tonight.
I check the time. Paige’s dad is almost twenty-five minutes late right now. Must be some traffic jam.
“Hey, do you want to meet my cat?” I ask her, becauseHarry’s mewling is getting more frequent, and at this point, I’m sure he’s going to be pissed at me for days for making him wait in his crate so long.
“Yes!” Paige cheers, just as the door flies open.
I turn around to see an extremely attractive guy standing in the doorway. He’s tall, dark, and handsome, with the telltale broad shoulders of an athlete. He’s clad in gray sweats and has a baseball cap pulled low over his dark brown hair. He can’t be too much older than me, and I assume he must be one of the other instructor’s boyfriends.
Lucky her, whoever she is.
But then Paige sticks her lip out in a pout. “There you are!” she cries.
My jaw drops.
Thisstud is Paige’s dad? The one who’s kept her waiting…who’s keptmewaiting when I could already be home and showering and dreaming of a warm, cozy bed?
I’m exhausted. I’m overwhelmed. I’m sure I smell bad. I’m in a new city I don’t know, about to move in with new roommates I’ve never met. And right now, I’m almost unreasonably annoyed with this guy for making his little girl wait to the point where she was almost in tears.
Which is probably the reason why, instead of saying “goodbye” and sending Paige on her way, I cross my arms and stare down Mr. Handsome, who’s towering in the doorway.
“Mr. Anderson, I’m not sure you’re aware, but we have a policy for late pickups,”
I say, even though I have zero clue if there’s any such policy. “If you could pick up more promptly next time, we’d really appreciate it,” I add for good measure, my tone professional but cold as ice.
CHAPTER 3
NOAH
Soon after Pennand Fisher leave for their night on the town, I nestle into my king-sized bed and turn on ESPN pre-season highlights. I plan to spend the evening learning how the other teams are playing and familiarizing myself with key players I need to watch out for this season.
It might be difficult not to fall asleep though. Fisher’s family didn’t skimp on the place, and each room has a top-of-the line mattress. When Penn and I met Fisher during the Lions’ training camp and he offered to rent us rooms in his family’s loft apartment, I hesitated. I like my solitude. But then we saw the place and couldn’t say no. Fisher’s family is quite wealthy, and it shows.
My room is simple with some art hung above the platform bed frame that probably costs more than my car. Modern lamps sit atop the matching nightstands, and the window has a gorgeous view of the Golden Gate Bridge. The loft boasts four large bedrooms, two on one end of the loft and another two on the opposite end. There’s a bathroom separating the rooms on both ends and an open conceptliving room and kitchen in between. It’s perfect for four teammates. Except our fourth roommate experienced a career-ending ACL injury a week before training camp ended and moved home to Russia to heal. So now the room opposite mine remains empty, which is honestly even better.
My phone vibrates on the bed beside me, and I glance down at the screen. A photo pops up of my sister, Andie, posing with her and Mitch's three daughters—my adorable nieces I’ll accept no criticism on.
I close my laptop and answer it. “Hey, Andie.”
“Noah,” she rasps before breaking into a fit of coughing. “I need a favor.”
“What do you need?” I ask, sitting up straight and alert.
“I’m dying of the black lung,” she says dramatically. “Mitch was supposed to pick Paige up from dance, but he got stuck in a late meeting, and then traffic. And the dance studio is so close to you…” Her hoarse voice trails off.
I’m already up and walking into the short hallway that leads to the main area of the loft. “I can get her. No worries.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” She breathes a sigh of relief. “Mitch will meet you at the loft to get her in about forty minutes, okay?” Andie starts coughing again.
“Sounds good,” I tell her.
She thanks me again, and we hang up.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling up to the small, brick dance studio called Golden Gate Grooves. The parking lot is almost completely empty, and I wonder how long ago Paige’s dance class ended.
Worried Paige has been waiting a while, I make my way inside quickly. In the lobby, there’s a small room with a desk and some chairs, then a large glass window where parents can watch the dance classes. Spotting Paige through theglass, I note that she’s the only child still here and internally grimace.
When I step through the doorway, I see a young woman smiling and talking to my niece. She’s wearing a purple leotard and gray shorts rolled at the waist band. She’s incredibly fit with toned legs and arms. Her blonde hair is in a ponytail, and it sways as she speaks to Paige.
