Game For Tonight (Game for It 3)

Chapter One

Sometimes, a desperate woman resorted to desperate measures.

The cliche repeatedly ran through Aubrey Cooper’s head as she strode through the crowds clustered within the small restaurant, her gaze scanning the dimly lit room with ruthless efficiency. The restaurant had been closed to the public tonight, and everyone was in full celebration mode. Plenty of alcohol flowed—most generously through her veins, which wasn’t helping her state of mind. Giant plates of appetizers were currently being passed around, and the delicious scents wafting through the air were making her stomach growl.

Not that she could eat right at this moment. She needed to find him, needed to talk to him right—

Ah, there he was. Flynn Foley. Second-string quarterback for the San Jose Hawks. The Golden Boy—that was the nickname he’d earned from the media last season. Young and strong and fast, tall and broad and gorgeous as hell, he was an exceptional football player who had been sitting on the bench for far too long this season.

He also made Aubrey’s toes curl every time he so much as looked her way. A rather difficult thing to ignore, considering she was his publicist and worked with him all the time. As in, she had to stare at that handsome face and listen to that deep, delicious voice all the time, too. Which in turn led to her curling-toe affliction and the rapid development of her mad, crazy crush.

The crush had become too much to ignore.

The Hawks franchise had a stringent no-dating policy—though it wasn’t a major issue, considering there wasn’t a ton of women who worked there. Of course, she would have to fall for her client. Not that he seemed to notice. He was always nice to her, easy to work with, very easy on the eyes. At first, she’d thought there was a spark between them, but that spark must have died a quick, painless death, because the man clearly wasn’t interested in her.

Or maybe there was a chance she could make him interested. She had no idea. Alcohol was fueling her all-over-the-place thoughts tonight. Alcohol and finding out via Facebook that her ex-boyfriend was getting married. Jerk. Asshole. The man who’d promised her his undying love, then dumped her as soon as she’d moved to San Jose to start her job with the Hawks—one minute there, the next minute gone. This woman—he’d started dating her almost immediately after Aubrey had moved away—was supposed to be his rebound.

Not the one.

Ugh. She paused near the bar and glanced around, wishing she had another drink. Everyone seemed so happy, all the single players congregating together—probably planning where they were going later tonight to party harder, because tomorrow they were back to business. The paired-off players were sitting with their significant others, looking cozy as they all chatted among themselves.

And then there was her, Aubrey, all alone in the middle of a packed restaurant. She needed to stop thinking about Derek and his impending marriage to Rebound Girl. She wasn’t in love with Derek. She hadn’t ever really thought of him, either, until the Facebook announcement. Heck, she’d had her rebound guy already and moved on. It just…irked her. That Derek had found someone and she was still alone. Lonely.

One more drink could give her more of a spine, she figured. Then maybe she could go up to Flynn, drag him into a dark corner, away from prying eyes, and offer him a congratulatory kiss—accompanied by tongue?

Aubrey shook her head, shook the very idea straight out of her mind. They worked together. Any type of relationship, however temporary, especially temporary, was frowned upon. Her thoughts were ridiculous. Her bold idea to approach Flynn and kiss him? Reckless. Risky.

Stupid. Right?

Okay, maybe she didn’t need any more liquor coursing through her veins. Her thoughts had derailed straight into Crazy Town. Clearly she was feeling down and out over her ex. And over the fact that she’d found out some other unpleasant news that might change everything.

Rumor had it that Flynn Foley wasn’t going to be her client much longer. She’d earlier overheard her boss, the head publicist, Harvey Price, discussing Flynn’s fate with the coach. And Coach Walsh had specifically said they were considering trading Foley.

She’d heard it come straight out of his mouth. It wasn’t a rumor. And that meant Mister Hot Pants himself—a nickname she’d come up with because, good Lord, the man looked hot in his uniform—was possibly leaving. Silver lining? She could pursue him all she wanted if he wasn’t going to be a Hawk any longer.

Though she should probably break it to him that they might let him go…

Nah. She couldn’t do that. J

ust because she was down and out in the midst of a celebration didn’t mean she needed to bring Flynn down, too. The Hawks win this afternoon was a big deal. And the team’s owner, Charlie Monroe, loved any excuse to use the restaurant he owned in downtown Carmel to bring his team together and honor their wins.

Raining on Flynn’s parade tonight would be mean. Cold. And she wasn’t that type of person. She was nice. Responsible. Probably too nice and responsible. Maybe she needed to loosen up and be irresponsible for once. Nice got her nowhere. Maybe if she was bold for once, she could approach Flynn. Tell him she’d love to throw down on him. As in, grab hold of the front of his shirt and yank him down for a kiss. Or maybe she could crawl up that rock-hard body, letting all of her important bits rub against his important bits. He was so tall that she might need a ladder to reach his lips…

She needed to find Flynn. Would he think she was crazy if she made a pass at him? And she wasn’t talking about the sort of passes he was used to on the football field. Would he blow her off? Rumors were rampant that he was a virgin, and she was pretty convinced they were true.

“Hey, hey. Where’s the fire?” Strong fingers curled around her upper arm, halting her in her pursuit. Glancing over her shoulder, she found Nick Hamilton, tight end for the Hawks and one of her other clients, smiling at her, his grip lessening on her arm so she could pull away from him.

“Sorry.” She offered a wan smile. “I need to find…somebody.”

The knowing look on Nick’s handsome face said he knew exactly who she was looking for. Damn it. “Haven’t seen him.”

“Seen who?” She schooled her expression, trying her best for utter innocence, but she couldn’t fool Nick. She’d spent too much time working with him the past couple of months, and clearly he had her all figured out.

Just as she had him figured out—for the most part. It was her job, after all. When she’d started as the assistant publicist for the Hawks, Nick Hamilton had been her first major assignment.

Flynn Foley, secret mad crush, her second.

“You know who.” Nick gently socked her in the arm, making her wince, though it hadn’t hurt. More as if her pride had been bruised because, man, was she that obvious? “Sorry. I’m trying to say I haven’t seen Flynn.” He whispered the last word, his eyes dramatically wide.

“I wasn’t looking for Flynn.” And anyway, somehow, she’d lost him. Again. Her gaze cut left. She thought she saw his familiar, outrageously perfect profile, but the person wasn’t him. She ignored the disappointment that filled her, silently berating herself for being so hung up on a man who clearly didn’t notice her, beyond her being his pain-in-the-ass publicist.

Not that he’d ever call her a pain in the ass. She knew he didn’t think of her that way. He was the epitome of polite. One of the most dedicated football players she’d ever witnessed—and she’d witnessed quite a few of them already in her just-beginning career. A do-gooder with a kind heart, an earnest smile, and always a thoughtful word, Flynn was a publicist’s dream.

Well. He was more like her very own, personal, sexy, haunt-her-in-the-middle-of-the-night, make-her-wake-up-gasping dream. He had those big hands and arms bulging with muscles. And his butt… It was the stuff of her very dirty, she-wondered-if-he’d-mind-if-she-spanked-it fantasies…

“Liar,” Nick said softly, shaking her from her thoughts. “The course of true love never does run smooth, does it?”

“Not true. Look at you and Willow.” Nick and Willow were a couple again, after being together years ago, when they were young and stupid and their burgeoning relationship had ended so horribly. Nick had regaled Aubrey with stories about what had happened between him and Willow long ago, when he dumped her like the scared dumbass he’d been, even looking for Aubrey’s opinion at one point as to how he could make it right with Willow.

Now they were the cutest couple she’d ever seen, besides star quarterback, Jared Quinn, and his wife, Sheridan. If she didn’t like them all so much, she’d be filled with an obscene amount of jealousy.

Being surrounded by love and romance when the one you wanted didn’t ever notice you was hard.

“I worked my ass off to make that woman mine.” Nick tilted his head, his gaze focused over Aubrey’s shoulder. “Hey, he’s over there, talking to Walsh.”

Aubrey whipped around, her eyes locking on the very man she’d been searching for since she’d arrived.