Romancing the Running Back Read Online Free Page A

down.”
    Yeah. Leave . . . Anya glanced around the guest room. How long could she stay here and be considered a
guest
? “Sounds great.” There was more to it than just the business, but Cassie already knew about her desire to kick up her side gig to full-time. The rest . . . the rest would have to wait. She wasn’t quite ready to take that to the next level. Fashion she totally understood, and thrived in. Nonprofit business launches were another story entirely. It was too important for her to mention yet. Too new. Too . . . much. She wanted to keep her real dream close to the vest for right now.
    “You and Matt looked pretty chummy,” Cassie said, smoothing a hand down the comforter. Her friend wouldn’t make eye contact. A dead giveaway something was up. “He’s a pretty okay guy.”
    That made Anya laugh. “‘A pretty okay guy.’ Wow, sing his praises some more. Next you’ll tell me he pays his taxes on time every quarter and manages to drive the speeding limit.”
    “Maybe.” Cassie sat up and glared at her. “I don’t think he’s your type.”
    “Yeah, handsome guy with a beautiful smile, decent sense of humor, lean body, and a fat wallet.” Anya gave an exaggerated shudder. “Spare me.”
    “I’m trying to. He’s hilarious, but he’s a bit of a player.”
    “Luckily, I’m not here to get played. I’m here for wedding stuff.” And to hide. “And besides, he’s adorable, but I can see he’s too slick for his own good. He’ll find someone that will make him want to lose some of that shine. I’m not her.”
    “Hmm” was Cassie’s entire comment.
    There was silence then. Anya didn’t normally hate silence . . . she loved it. Her mind operated better during silence. It’s why she lived alone instead of taking on a roommate, why she liked working from home better than working in the department store. But this uneasy silence with Cassie was unnerving. Her best friend had never been one to stay quiet for long.
    “What’s the deal with Josiah Walker?”
    When Cassie propped herself up on her elbows, Anya realized she’d broken the silence in the most stupid of ways.
    “Why?”
    “I just . . . was curious.”
Brilliant, Anya.
“He hates me.”
    “He doesn’t hate you. I don’t think Josiah knows how to hate. He’s just not as boisterous as Stephen, or as fluid as Trey.Personality, nothing more.”
    “He needs a haircut,” Anya muttered, opening her pot of night cream. Even as she dipped a finger in, she could hear Josiah’s mocking voice, telling her it was a waste and she didn’t need it. “Shut up,” she mumbled.
    “What?”
    “Never mind. So, website,” she said firmly, smoothing on the cream.

Chapter Three
    Stephen hopped onto the treadmill to the left of Josiah and set his pace for slightly slower than Josiah’s own jog. “Come here often?”
    “To California?” Josiah grinned. “Only when the team jet flies me. Look at you, all running like a pro.” Josiah watched his friend in the mirror for a moment, relief crashing in waves through him. He’d been worried—so damn worried—that he’d one day show up at Stephen’s house to find him dead. Alcohol poisoning, asphyxiated on his own vomit, or maybe flown through his windshield during a drunk-driving caper.
    Now sober, and healthier than Josiah had ever known him, Stephen embodied what recovery should look like for everyone.
    “How’s Mags?”
    “She’s good.” Stephen huffed a little. “I’m still not a runner, you know. You talk, I’ll grunt.”
    “Deal. I like the girl. You’ve scored there.”
    Stephen merely nodded.
    “Trey’s almost officially leg-shackled, you’ve got yourself a live-in . . . it’s getting pretty cozy around here.”
    “Thinking you need your own shackle?” Stephen said, sucking in a long breath to compensate for the question.
    Josiah grinned. “Nah. I mean, the idea appeals, don’t get me wrong. Someone to come home to, share meals with, make plans