I laughed. “This is absurd.”
She just shrugged. “Welcome to dating in the twenty-first century. Be right back.”
Once Belle was gone, I crinkled my nose at my phone, placing it on the bar with the app still up on the screen. I turned my attention to the television behind the bar, instead, watching the game that had just started in California. The San Francisco 49ers were up on the Denver Broncos by three, and I watched the next play, tossing my hands up with a dramatic groan when offsides was called on Denver’s offense.
“Oh, come on, ref.” I sighed, sipping my vodka. “Idiots.”
“They’ve been calling shit this whole quarter,” an older guy huffed at me from down the bar. “You a Broncos fan, too?”
“Bears girl,” I answered, eyes still on the screen. “But that was just a terrible call, no matter which team you’re rooting for.”
“Let’s hope our refs just let the boys play this year,” the man’s friend chimed in, and I noted he was wearing a Bears shirt.
“I’m more concerned about our O line. If we can’t keep the quarterback safe, it won’t matter what the refs call.”
They both grumbled and raised their beers to me at that, and I cheersed their direction, taking another sip before my eyes flashed over my phone.
I sighed, finally picking it up.
For a solid minute, I just stared at the first face on my screen. It was a blond guy with glasses, his face a little round, eyes soft. The photo he’d chosen for his default was him sitting in a lawn chair at what appeared to be a barbecue, a dog in his lap, beer in one hand. He looked fun, like a friend I could watch football with.
But I didn’t want to have sex with him.
I swiped left.
Once that first decision was made, I filtered through the next ones a bit quicker. In all honesty, it felt like a game — like some sort of soft-core porn site that no one had to know I enjoyed browsing. The more I swiped, the more I smiled.
Hot lawyer with a cat? Swipe right.
Boating captain with a gaggle of girls in every single photo of his? No, thanks. Swipe left.
Self-proclaimed “rich stud” with a photo of him holding a stack of cash? Hard left.
Cute freelance writer with a love for all things Chicago, including the Bears? Yes, please.
This is fun, I thought.
Until the first message popped up.
Hey there, Gemma. How ‘bout them Bears?
I stared at the message, thumbs hovering over the keyboard on my phone.
What do I say back? Do I wait to respond? What if he thinks I’m stupid? What if he sees me in person and makes up some lame excuse to leave, and then I’m just sitting at the game alone?
Actually, that might not be so bad.
“Down To Fuck?”
I balked, blinking with my eyes still on the unanswered message on my phone before I peered up at the man the voice belonged to.
The bartender.
“Excuse me?” I asked, sure I didn’t hear him correctly. But he made no move to correct himself. Instead, he just stood there, staring at me, a little smirk on his full lips as he glanced down at my phone and back up at me.
“Down. To. Fuck,” he repeated. “That’s what DTF means.”
My mouth popped open, eyes skirting to where Belle had disappeared into the bathroom. “No… she wouldn’t.”
The bartender chuckled, fishing a beer out of the cooler behind him and sliding it over to a group of guys down to my left. “I mean, from the first words I heard her say when you two walked in here?” He smirked again. “I think she would.”
My cheeks flushed with heat, fingers flying over my phone as I quickly exited the message and tried to find my profile. “Oh, my God. How do I edit this thing? How do I delete that? Ah!” I threw my phone on the bar when another message came in. “Jesus Christ.”
The bartender laughed, picking up my phone from where I’d tossed it like a detonating bomb. He thumbed through a few screens, typed something, and handed it back to me.
“There. I edited it.” He leaned over the bar. “But, from the sounds of it, you should have left it. I mean, you are looking for someone who’s down to fuck, right?”
I closed the app, shoving my phone inside my purse with heat still creeping over my neck. “Nosy, much?”
“Hard not to overhear two gorgeous women talking about getting railed into next year by a hammer cock.”
I laughed at that, taking a sip of my vodka as my eyes met his. I finally got my wish, a chance to stare at him a little longer, and boy, was he fun to stare at.
His square jaw was lined with a faint shadow of stubble, his dark eyes hooded in a mixture of lust and playfulness. The way his jet-black hair sat in a styled wave reminded me of a Calvin Klein model, and I knew without a second thought that I wouldn’t mind seeing his tan skin sporting nothing but a pair of white briefs on a giant billboard — especially after that brief glimpse I got of his ass.
Ha! Take that, Belle. My libido is far from broken.
He was the definition of what Belle had said DTF stood for — Dark, Tall, and Fun.
“So, which one are you taking first?” he asked, pushing back from where he’d leaned over the bar. He nodded to a woman at the opposite end, letting her know he saw her request for a refill. And as he made her margarita, I pulled my phone back from my purse, sighing.
“Truthfully? I have no idea. I have two messages already, but I have no idea what to say to them.”
“Maybe you should start with hi.”
“You know what I mean,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. I opened up the app, staring at the first unanswered message again. “I haven’t talked to another man like this since…” My voice faded, heart slinking into my stomach with a mixture of guilt and loss. “Well, in a very long time.”
“You’re nervous,” he stated plainly, walking the new drink down to the woman at the end of the bar before returning to me. “Why don’t you ease into it, have a practice run before the real thing?”
I cocked a brow. “And how would I do that?”
He shrugged, those wicked lips cranking into a smirk yet again. “Take me.”
“You.” I deadpanned.
He nodded. “Yeah. Take me to the first game. I mean, look,” he gestured between us. “Obviously, we have chemistry. We could have a good time. I’ll buy the pizza and beer.”
“Sounds like you’re just looking for a free ticket to the first home game,” I said, leaning over the bar.
His eyes flashed down to my cleavage that I’d not-so-subtly pushed up with that movement, and when they flicked back to me, they were heated — darker, dusted with a lust-filled promise I somehow knew he could keep.
“Maybe.” He shrugged again. “Or maybe I want to be the first one to have the privilege of fulfilling your friend’s promise.”
“Her promise?” I asked, just as Belle slid into the bar seat next to me.
“What did I miss?”
The bartender tore his gaze from mine, smiling at Belle, instead. And that’s when I realized what her promise had been.
Getting me railed into next year.
I swallowed.
“Your friend here is nervous talking to guys she doesn’t know on the app,” the bartender said to Belle as I fought another blush. “So, she’s taking me to the first game, as a sort of practice run.”
“Oh!” Belle’s eyes lit up as she assessed me first, and then dragged her eyes over the bartender. A tinge of possessiveness touched my chest when she clearly liked what she saw. She chewed her thumbnail, nodding. “Oh, yes. I like this idea.”
“I didn’t agree yet,” I reminded him.
“Okay,” he challenged. “Then go ahead and respond to…” he peered over my phone screen. “Brad, there.”
He and Belle both watched me, Belle fighting a smile as one eyebrow rose on her perfectly symmetrical face. The bartender watched me with a satisfied smirk when my fingers didn’t move for the keys, and my j
aw popped open, a laugh slipping through.
“Wow. You two just met and you’re already ganging up on me.”
“I like him,” Belle said easily. “And I like this plan.”
“You don’t even know him. Actually,” I said. “I don’t even know his name yet.”
“Zach Bowen,” he said, extending his hand for mine. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I let him take my hand in his, trying to ignore the warm, buzzing energy that transferred when our skin touched.
“She’s Gemma,” Belle answered for me, since apparently my sticky tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth. “Gemma Mancini.”
“So, Gemma Mancini,” he said, his hand still wrapped around mine, eyes hooded and sure. “What do you say? Let me be your practice round.”
“Say yes, stupid,” Belle whispered.
I nudged her with my elbow.
Zach held my gaze confidently, his dark eyes watching me like I really had no other choice. And in that moment, I couldn’t think of a reason not to say yes. He seemed fun. He was hot.
And it would save me from this stupid app for at least one more week.
“Fine,” I conceded, and Zach’s smirk turned into a full-blown smile, one that had a slight dimple popping under that delicious stubble.
He reached for my phone, the screen still on the unanswered message from Brad. He clicked out of it, typing his phone number into a new text message, instead, and sending himself an emoji.
“There. My number. And I have yours. See you for the game next weekend?”
“Looks like it.”
His eyes roamed over me once more, the corner of his mouth pulling up just slightly. “Can’t wait.”
Belle nudged me under the bar with her knee, her eyes wide in an oh my God fashion.
“For now, I should get back to work. I’ll check on you ladies in a bit.”
“Thank you, Zach,” Belle said, waving her fingers daintily as he made his way over to the other side of the bar.
She didn’t stop staring once he was gone, though.
“Damn,” she breathed, resting her chin on the hand she’d just used to wave him farewell. “Now I really hope you get railed into next year.”
I laughed, trying not to panic at the thought of another man touching me.
A man who wasn’t Carlo.
Shaking my head, I pulled the app back up on my phone, showing Belle the messages that had come through and letting her swipe through the pictures of guys for a while. As we talked, I reminded myself of the one thing I always needed to hear.
I am in control.
It’s just a football game. It’s just a night of sports and beer and hot dogs. If I want to have sex with him, I can. If I don’t, I can just go home alone. No harm, no foul. These are my tickets, and this is my plan, even if it was Belle’s idea.
There are eight home games this season. That’s eight different guys, eight new friends to make, and — only if I want — eight potential orgasms that don’t come from my trusty vibrator.
I am in control.
Maybe this will actually be fun, I thought, laughing as Belle swiped a hard left on a guy who stated in his bio that he was a “sex machine.” She seemed to be having more fun than I was going through the app, so I let her swipe away, content to just sip on my vodka and listen to her commentary.
Every now and then, I’d feel Zach watching me from wherever he was working behind the bar. And when our eyes met, my chest would squeeze, along with my thighs. There was something about his eyes, about the kind of heat that swept over me with that gaze. The way he looked at me, it was as if he already had me in his bed, between his sheets, one hand on my hip and the other hiking my leg up as he settled between my thighs.
He’d only just learned my name, but the way he looked at me? It was as if he knew everything — maybe even more than I knew, myself.
A practice round…
Yeah. This could be fun.
That was a sneak peek inside The Wrong Game by Kandi Steiner! Continue reading here (available in Kindle Unlimited)!
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Gemma’s plan is simple: invite a new guy to each home game using her season tickets for the Chicago Bears. It’s the perfect way to avoid getting emotionally attached and also get some action. But after Zach gets his chance to be her practice round, he decides one game just isn’t enough. A sexy, fun sports romance.
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Book two in the Becker Brothers story is complete, and as another brother finds love and the mystery of their father’s death is slowly unraveled, I’m finding myself emotional and very, very thankful.
Momma, I want to thank you first, because even though you are facing so much in your own life, you are always here for me when I need you. It’s because of you that I have chased this writing dream, and whenever I feel overwhelmed or scared, I hear your voice saying, “one step at a time.” Thank you for always reading and loving my books, for giving me feedback, and for keeping me humble – always. I couldn’t do anything in my life without your influence, least of all this. I am a better woman for having you as my mother.
Staci Hart, as always, you get a HUGE thank you. No one else is as active in EVERY step of my writing process. Thank you for letting me talk through issues when I get stuck, for listening to me ramble on about characters, for reading and providing valuable feedback, and for having my back no matter what. I love that I have you in my corner and that we lean on each other so much in our creative process. I can’t imagine doing this without you, so don’t ever leave me.
My beta re
aders were, as always, instrumental in the creation of Neat. Kellee Fabre, thank you for reading so quickly and always asking questions that help me see what I couldn’t before. Trish QUEEN MINTNESS, I am so obsessed with your messages as you read. You make me feel like I’m not a complete screw up, and you keep the fire burning when I’m struggling. Thank you for your amazing feedback and suggestions on this one, and for always letting me inside your head as you read. Kathryn Andrews, your tough love is exactly what I need when beta rolls around, and I can’t thank you enough for always keeping it real. Sarah Green, thank you for making time for my work even when you have so much of your own. Your words of affirmation mean so much to me!
I also brought on two NEW beta readers this round – Natalie Bailey and Carly Wilson. Thank you both SO MUCH for bringing fresh insight to my team and for providing quick, honest, and helpful feedback. I appreciate having your eyes on my work to help polish it to a shine!
To the most amazing friend/beta reader/assistant/master of all hats in the world – Christina Stokes – THANK YOU. Thank you for always thinking of me, for foreseeing things I never think of, for reading my work and providing crucial feedback, and for just being one of the brightest humans in my life. I can’t imagine a world without you in it.
Sasha Erramouspe, thank you for always being my last set of eyes before I release my books into the world. Your “Charlie” read is always so beneficial, and it helps me see if I’ve corrected the issues I faced in beta edits. More than that, thank you for being a sweet, kind, and caring friend. I adore you.
To Elaine York of Allusion Graphics, THANK YOU for always handling my last minute deadlines and changes, for making me a priority, and for petting my hair as you edit my book so I can smile from time to time as I fix all the mistakes. I consider you such a good friend and I’m so happy this book world brought us together!
I have the most amazing team on my side, and I want to thank all of them. Nina, Brittany, and the rest of my team at Social Butterfly PR – thank you for promoting my books like they’re YOURS, and for making my life easier when it comes to release time. And to Flavia, Hannah, Jackie, and Meire at Bookcase Agency, thank you for believing in my work and putting in as much heart and hustle as I do. I love you all so much.
Neat Page 28
