Blind Date (A Why Choose Romance)

My brother, Lewis, placed his bottle down on the table. “So what you’re saying is, we each need a stable girlfriend-slash-wife in our lives and perhaps kids as well, to ground us and remind us there’s more to our life than football and whatever.”

Ethan shrugged. “Maybe that’s what I’m saying.”

“Hmm.” Tyler raised his drink and examined the amber liquid. “No one wants to take one of their one-night stands and turn it into more?”

More thoughtful silence.

Casual, no-strings, one night only, have some fun, and move on. At least it was honest. I hadn’t run into anyone whom I wanted to get to know on a more permanent basis. And the last thing I wanted to do was play games with some chick’s heart.

After taking a swig of beer, Hank continued to nurse it. “Ain’t that why you four are here? Like, you’re here for this dating game thing. One of you goes and takes out this girl in the hopes it’ll turn into more.”

Tyler guffawed. “Yeah, right? You’ve been watching too many romcoms, dude. Some random chick in a bar is going to come by and catch my fancy, and that’ll be the start of some happily ever after in no real-world ever.” He told it like it was. None of us expected to get anything out of this celebrity charity hook-up event.

I took a swig of my beer. And then, well... uh... She happened.

Carrying a large tray, this girl approached our table.

“Um, uh, who wants the onion rings?” she asked. And I barely glanced at the deep-fried vegetables because, fuck, was she something special?

She stood in a less than pristine white apron over her faded t-shirt and faded jeans. Like, damn, she wasn’t even trying. And she didn’t need to with her beautiful face, big eyes, and curvy figure. She didn’t need to try at all.

I guess that made her hotter and more real. She wasn’t a model. She wasn’t coming over to us because of our fame.

On top of that—she brought food.

Fuck, I think I fell instantly in love.

“Um, yes,” I said, slightly smiling.

Wait, what the fuck? Why was I nervous in front of a girl? Me, Jake Rollins, a star player and heartthrob of the Arlington Argonauts, being intimidated by some pretty girl?

I tried to look away, and it took quite some effort. That’s when I noticed across the table my twin drooling like a lovesick character out of a cartoon. I swear I almost saw the throbbing love hearts.

Sitting next to him, with his feet firmly on planet Earth, Hank seemed magically immune to her charms. “You can just place all the food on the table; we’re going to share,” he said. He still had the gift of speech and was able to speak in full sentences.

I glanced at the other guys; sure enough, something about this woman magically sorted the four straight dudes from the gay one at our table. And she used her evil powers to overwhelm us.

“Um, uh, french fries?” she said, handing out the next serving. “And some mozzarella sticks.”

After another brief moment of awe, we all nodded and started to thank her, as if we hadn’t been so grateful in all our lives to get a few bowls of forbidden food and break our normally highly controlled, healthy diets.

Hey, you don’t get to be a top athlete and look like this without making a few food sacrifices.

“Can I get you anything else?” she said, clearing her throat beforehand as if she were trying to remember the script.

“We’re—we’re good, thank you,” Ethan replied, nodding along.

“That’s good to hear. Don’t, um, hesitate to ask for anything else.”

Dangerous words, sweetie, unless you really mean ask for anything!

Sure, I was used to girls being utterly awestruck within sight of me, but this? This was different. Was this an upside-down day when everything was all in reverse, and she struck me with her awesomeness?

Effortlessly, she stayed in control of the situation; she peeled herself away from us and returned to the kitchen.

It was then that I made the decision: I would see her again. And I would see a whole lot more of her too.

“The hell is wrong with you guys?” Hank shoved Lewis, the dumbstruck one of us closest to him. “You’re here to do a dating game thing, and you’re looking at some girl in an apron like you want to get down on one knee and offer your hand in marriage.”

That was surprisingly close to the mark.

And right.

The Dating Game.

The reason we were at The Ugly Duckling in the first place and sitting in a specially reserved booth at the back.

Not our idea. No way.

Corporate wanted to use the charity event as a marketing tool.

A woman won a date with her choice of eligible celebrity as a raffle prize, and she had four football players to choose from. That was where we came in. She had to choose one of us, but they turned the process into this bizarre circus spectacular.