Sacked (The New York Nighthawks 1)

It was difficult for me to wrap my head around the fact that I’d been having an actual conversation with Prentice Wright. And that he was even hotter in person, which shouldn’t be possible. Not when he was already insanely attractive in all of the commercials and magazine spreads that he’d been in.

Prentice was the epitome of masculine beauty with his dark hair, beard, brown eyes, chiseled jaw, and muscular body. At five-foot-five, he was about ten inches taller than me, and I loved how feminine I felt standing next to him.

But what I appreciated the most was the way his attention was wholly on me while we talked. How a muscle in his jaw would jump and irritation would flash in his eyes anytime someone interrupted us. Including my brother.

Even though I was only here because I had wanted to see Nixon play, I had felt the urge to stomp my foot in frustration when he came rushing into the room.

And I could’ve sworn that I had seen a flash of jealousy in Prentice’s dark gaze when my brother had spun me around, then flung his arm around my shoulder. But that was probably just wishful thinking on my part, considering he was way out of my league.

“You ready to hit the club?” Nixon asked.

At first, I thought he’d been talking to Prentice, but then I realized his focus was on me. My excitement about going out to celebrate their win dimmed at the thought of my time with Prentice coming to an end. “Are you coming with?”

Before the sexy quarterback could answer, my brother shook his head with a laugh. “Nah, he’s old and has to go home. It’s past his bedtime already.”

Prentice scowled at Nixon, and I assumed it was because his response had pissed him off until he growled, “Is your sister old enough to go to a club?”

His question was deflating since he sounded more like a protective big brother than a guy who might be interested in me. The last thing I needed was another sibling…and certainly not the only man who’d been able to bring my libido to life.

“Nope.” My brother let the P at the end pop as he grinned, dropping his arm from my shoulders. “But you know they’ll let her in if she’s with me. They’re not going to turn us away after a win at home. Or even a loss. Having players show up and get photographed is too good for business.”

Prentice sighed, his gaze scanning my face before he asked, “Do you really want to go to the club? I could take you home instead.”

His offer was sweet, and I really wished I could take him up on it. Especially since that would mean I’d have him all to myself for the entire ride to Nixon’s house. But I had already agreed to be my brother’s designated driver, so I couldn’t just bail on our plans. “Yeah, when Nixon was telling me about how he and some of the guys go out to celebrate after a win, it sounded like fun. Plus, I’ve never…you know…been to a real club before.”

I hadn’t meant to remind him of my age since the last thing I wanted was for him to see me as a little girl, but the words came tumbling out of my mouth anyway. Between having his gorgeous brown eyes locked on me and the awkwardness of standing next to my big brother while my panties were drenched because of my reaction to his teammate, I was way out of my element.

“I’ll come with you, then.” His attention shifted back to my brother as butterflies swirled in my belly. “You’re going to The End Zone?”

“Of course.” Nixon nodded. “Where else would we go?”

“Good,” Prentice grunted. “Nobody will hassle Naomi if she walks in with me.”

The ups and downs of this conversation were giving me emotional whiplash. I’d been so excited by the possibility that he’d agreed to join us because he wanted to spend more time with me. Right up until he casually mentioned how easy it would be for him to get me into the club. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking from experience. If he was so confident of the outcome because he brought underage girls to the club on a regular basis. If I was just another in a long line for him.

The thought shouldn’t have hurt me since we’d only just met, but my stomach roiled while the guys hammered out the plan for our trip to The End Zone. The last thing I needed to do was be mopey when we got there, so I wasn’t paying much attention to what they said as I gave myself a mental pep talk.

“You cool with that, Mims?”

Nixon’s question pulled me out of my thoughts. “What?”