Dirty Player: A Rough Riders Novel Read Online Free

of the VIP area, secluded away with our own private bar and bottle service, admittance only allowed with names on a list and a bouncer at the bottom of the stairway preventing just anyone from sneaking in.
    It was too similar to what I’d recently walked away from to enjoy fully. I had tried, but after the sweet, tart taste of a Red Bull and vodka and then the scowl from the barely dressed waitress when I’d ordered a beer from the tap—anything, because I didn’t care as long as it was cold—I gave up on the idea of getting stupid drunk.
    A slight buzz was all I needed anyway, and after a while—the murmurs of conversation going on at the high-top table around me, Beaux lost in getting to know his new teammates—I caved to my creativity that had begun its seductive whisper.
    Ideas were racing through my mind. Floor plans. Set up tables. Bracelets. Necklaces and charms with matching earrings. Stamped metal designs paid pretty well, especially depending on the types of metal I used. I had started in college, making a few pieces here and there for myself and then selling them to girls in sororities. Everyone wanted something one of a kind—made for them and their personalities. While they’d been having their fun, partying away the best four years of their lives, I’d still been running Beaux around to practices, helping him with his homework, and making sure he made varsity. When he grew older and could drive himself, I still went with him on college visits to tour campuses and talk to scouts and football coaches—all while trying to take care of our ill mother.
    When she passed away before she could see Beaux graduate college, the entire burden of the house and the bills and life had fallen on my shoulders. What I wouldn’t have given during those years to be one of those sorority girls with wallets as deep as their dads would allow and no worries in the world other than finding a new fashionable accessory and being the first to own it.
    I had envied them. I wanted to live that life now, but responsible and cautious weren’t character traits easily shaken.
    Plus, I hadn’t had decent design ideas in months, but the historic and rugged look of the building Beaux had rented for me, lease fully paid for a year, had lit a spark.
    Or perhaps that was the freedom of knowing I could finally do what I’d always wanted.
    Perhaps Beaux was right. I’d earned every bit of his success right along with him. I didn’t begrudge him for it. I was proud of him. There was also something to be said for having a piece of life that was all yours—although I fully intended to pay him back for every cent he’d already spent.
    A large hand slammed down over the napkin I was currently doodling on.
    “You are not spending the night with a pen in your hand and your face to the table.”
    I shrugged off Beaux’s scolding tone and scrunched my face. “I finally have ideas, though.”
    I looked down at the designs he’d covered with his hand. Six interlocked bracelets, able to be undone, put back together, worn in six different patterns. Complicated, but replicated with different types of metals, or using one for the whole thing, I could make eight different designs and they’d all look unique.
    “Well, tell your brain to shut up for the night. It’s on vacation. You need it.”
    Before I could protest, a tray of golden-colored shots was presented and set on the table. A bowl of limes next, and a shaker of salt.
    I glared at Beaux. “You’re kidding me.”
    He threw his head back and laughed. “They’re not all for you.”
    “Is she always this greedy?” 
    I turned toward the new voice and grinned. I’d been standing next to Kolby Jones for most of the night. He seemed more enamored with the celebrities in our midst than I was.
    But then again, he’d only had three months since the draft to get used to this new life. A wide receiver drafted in the first round, seventh pick, he’d gone to Raleigh lower than originally