Warning Track (Callahan Family #1) - Carrie Aarons Page 0,39

I want to know how the plot or the characters ended up there.

Hayes: Says someone who has never relished the term “delayed gratification.”

Reading the words delayed gratification from Hayes makes me think about something completely different than a TV show, and I blush even though I’m alone in my house. We’ve been watching the first two episodes of Love is Blind on Netflix for the last hour, and shows like this are my guilty pleasure. Hayes had been talking me through his takeout order dilemma before—a dire choice between Chinese and pizza—and then we’d moved onto a bingeathon that he was now clearly into, though he protested at first.

Me: I think the one couple with the scientist guy is completely sweet. They both seem so real and down-to-earth.

Hayes: You mean the guy who is contemplating proposing after less than twenty-four hours of conversation? AND he’s never seen her before. So realistic *rolling eyes emoji*

Me: You’re clearly not a romantic *grumpy face emoji*

We’ve ventured into flirty territory too many times to count at this point. Over the last week, this texting relationship has become familiar, relaxed, and at times, I’ve had to put my phone down and walk away before saying something that toed that thin line. Or completely went over it. Both Hayes and I have edged too close to it, and yet … I can’t stop.

The man is completely charming, in an honest and effortless way. He comes off like he’s this big, grumbling grump, too preoccupied with his sport to make small talk or form friendships. But two days of texting and it’s like we’re old pals or a man and woman just establishing a witty, flirting banter.

Hayes: I believe in love, in theory. Just not at first sight, or when a TV show is giving you fifteen minutes of fame for it. Believe me, I’ve seen enough phony marriages in LA and in the league to fall for this crap.

Me: There has to be some kind of love you believe in?! Come on, it could work out between the manic army chick and the retired frat bro! Don’t count them out.

I chuckle to myself as the couple I just mentioned mauls each other’s faces off for their first kiss.

Hayes: I guess I believe that if two people spend enough time together, have a mutual respect for each other, and enjoy both physical and emotional sides to one and other, then they can make it work.

It’s not the most romantic sentiment I’ve ever heard, but it is the most truthful. And coming from Hayes, it makes my heart rate spike.

Something is happening between us, and sooner or later, I have a feeling we’re not going to be able to step back over that quickly evaporating line.

18

Hayes

“My girlfriend just texted me. Who brought the blond bombshell?”

Jimenez waves his phone above his head, and all of my teammates start to look around the room. I cringe, trying to sink further into my locker.

“Ah, fresh meat! Who brought the bat bunny to the game?” Walker wonders aloud.

It’s a pretty strict rule that you keep the groupies who hang around teams out of the family room. It’s disrespectful to the legitimate partners and spouses of the players, and grandparents of the team don’t want to be rubbing elbows with women who only want to jump on your jock strap for their fifteen minutes of fame.

But the girl I gave my team room tickets to isn’t a bat bunny, a fact that Jimenez and the rest of the team figure out rather quickly.

“Wait, my girl sent a pic.” He holds it up, and five to six guys clamber around his phone.

“Wait a minute, that’s that Russian model, Marlena.” Clark whistles under his breath.

“Shit, she’s with you, isn’t she?” Walker rats me out, turning to accuse me.

I have to now pull my head out of my locker, where I was very intricately studying the tape the trainer had applied to my wrist. Every pair of eyes in the room are staring directly at me.

“Yes, Marlena is here to see me. Happy, you nosy bastards?” I grumble.

Jimenez wolf whistles. “Dude, I have absolutely no problem with that. Though the WAGs are definitely still calling her a bat bunny.”

“That’s because they’re fucking jealous. Did you see her tits in the Sports Illustrated issue?” Shane Giraldi rubs his hands together.

The guy is a fucking creep, and he’s talking about my ex-girlfriend like he has a chance to go up there right now and bend her over a