Down By Contact - SR Grey
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Books by S.R. Grey
Chapter One: Summer Days Winding Down
Chapter Two: Almost Busted
Chapter Three: Is My New House Haunted?
Chapter Four: Saved by the Bell
Chapter Five: Second Thoughts
Chapter Six: Hot and Bothered
Chapter Seven: Not the Intruder I Ever Expected
Chapter Eight: Ground Rules
Chapter Nine: Curve Balls
Chapter Ten: Living the Good Life
Chapter Eleven: Delicious
Chapter Twelve: Pizza Night
Chapter Thirteen: An Evening Walk
Chapter Fourteen: Reality Bites
Chapter Fifteen: A Night Out
Chapter Sixteen: Taking a Chance
Chapter Seventeen: Good Night
Chapter Eighteen: He Kissed Me!
Chapter Nineteen: The Reality of Reality
Chapter Twenty: Is There Something Wrong?
Chapter Twenty-One: Under the Stars
Chapter Twenty-Two: Bliss
Chapter Twenty-Three: Finally, Someone I Can Tell
Chapter Twenty-Four: Wishes Do Come True, Sort Of
Chapter Twenty-Five: Next Level
Chapter Twenty-Six: Did I Really Just Say That?
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Progress
Chapter Twenty-Eight: What a Game!
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Off to Shop
Chapter Thirty: Time to Shine
Chapter Thirty-One: We May Have a Problem
Chapter Thirty-Two: I Want All of You
Chapter Thirty-Three: Calm Before the Storm?
Chapter Thirty-Four: Gotcha
Chapter Thirty-Five: Time to Panic
Chapter Thirty-Six: Oh, Shit
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Confrontation
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Free of Fear
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Taking on the Sharks
Chapter Forty: Much Love
Epilogue: The Future Is Bright
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Forward Progress
Copyright
Boys of Winter series
Destiny on Ice
Resistance on Ice
Complications on Ice
Caution on Ice
Player on Ice
Vows on Ice
Illusion on Ice
Forbidden on Ice
Bet on Ice
Men of Fall series
Forward Progress
Fair Catch
Eligible Receiver
Down by Contact
Judge Me Not series
I Stand Before You
Never Doubt Me
Just Let Me Love You
The After of Us
Inevitability duology
Inevitable Detour
Inevitable Circumstances
Promises series
Tomorrow’s Lies
Today’s Promises
A Harbour Falls Mystery trilogy
Harbour Falls
Willow Point
Wickingham Way
Laid Bare novella series
Exposed: Laid Bare 1
Unveiled: Laid Bare 2
Spellbound: Laid Bare 3
Sacrifice: Laid Bare 4
Summer Days Winding Down
After my teammate Lars and I place our orders for two giant chicken Caesar salads, the perky waitress with the spiky neon-pink hair giggles knowingly.
Winking at us, she says, “I’ll be right back, guys.”
As she flits across the outdoor patio, heading back into the restaurant, I think, Oh, Lord.
Bowing my head and chuckling, I look over at Lars and say, “I think we’ve been had.”
He raises a brow. “You think so, Zane?”
I wave my hand. “Yeah, well, it happens, huh?”
“It sure does,” he agrees with a laugh.
Yes, being a professional football player for the Columbus Comets tends to get one noticed from time to time.
This is clearly one of those situations.
It’s not the first, and it won’t be the last.
That’s why we just brush it off.
Folding his arms across his wide chest, Lars asks, “So do you have any plans for after lunch?”
“Yeah, I do.” Leaning back and looking up at a random string hanging from the big beige umbrella shielding our table from the sizzling late-July sun, I say, “Since practice starts tomorrow and we’re about to get real fucking busy, I think I’ll take a spin out to the construction site to check on the progress on my house. I haven’t been out there all that much lately since I was in Pennsylvania visiting with my parents. I need to get on it, though. Things are coming along quickly. My contractor told me just this morning that there’s been a lot of progress over the past couple of weeks while I was away. The kitchen and the master bedroom and bath are already done.”
“Wow.” Lars lifts his condensation-covered ice-water glass and says, “Sounds like that fancy new home you’re having built will be ready sooner rather than later.”
He takes a long drink, reminding me how damn hot it is today and that I’m fucking thirsty too.
I lift my own glass and take a quick sip of ice water.
Finishing up, I murmur, “It should be, yeah. It won’t be that super long now.”
Nodding thoughtfully as he sets his water back down on the table, Lars remarks, “I bet you can’t wait to move in.”
“Fuck.” I blow out a breath. “You got that right. I am so ready to be out of that apartment downtown. It just isn’t me, like, at all.”
My current abode is in Columbus, Ohio, and though the city isn’t a bustling metropolis twenty-four seven, and the apartment itself is rather modern and nice, I prefer more rural living. I love having space, preferably with a forest nearby for hiking and such.
That’s why I chose a private, wooded piece of property on the far outskirts of Columbus, close to a little town called Newark, on which to have my new home built.
“Have the builders given you an updated timeline yet?” Lars asks.
“Do you mean for when I can actually move in?”
“Yeah.” He nods, raking back a swath of dark hair, still shades lighter than my own raven color.
Shaking my head, I tell him, “Nah, but I don’t think it’ll be next week or anything. Probably more like early October, though it could be sooner. The crew did just get all the plumbing installed.”
He chuffs. “Ha, no way. It’s all up and working now?”
I suppress a knowing grin. “Yep.”
Chuckling, Lars says, “Well, at least if duty calls while you’re out there—”
“I won’t have to be like a bear and take a shit in the woods,” I finish for him.
It’s totally an inside joke.
There was this one time Lars and I had taken a drive out to see the house after they’d just gotten the framework up. We’d eaten some really bad fast food about an hour beforehand.
And, well, yeah…
Suffice it to say, functional plumbing is good.
Very good.
We’ll just leave it at that.
We glance at each other, and Lars, clearly recalling the same incident, starts laughing.
I join him, shaking my head at the absurdity of that day.
It’s always easy and amenable like this with Lars Samuels. He’s my best friend on the team. We have a lot in common. Two of the biggest things we share are that we’re both wide receivers for the Comets and we both like to win.
No, wait, we love victory.
Unfortunately, last season was a drama-filled debacle that could fill the pages of a novel.
&n
bsp; As a result, Lars and I—and really the whole team—are looking forward to a fresh start this year.
We have the tools with committed players and a good coach.
There’s just one thing missing—a really great quarterback.
That makes me ask Lars, “Hey, have you heard if the Comets are bringing back that QB, Graham Tettersaw, for another tryout before training camp gets underway? Since we have a few practices this week, it’d be a good chance for them to take a second look, maybe even get a deal finalized.”
The waitress arrives with our salads, so Lars and I hold off on our conversation until she walks away, this time with no giggling.
Once she’s out of earshot—hey, you never know who’s reporting to whom, and she clearly knows who we are—Lars says, “I’m not sure, but I’ll tell you what. I’m picking Becca up after we’re done here. We’re stopping by the team office because I need to sign some promo stuff that’s going out in the mail tomorrow. Anyway, the office manager will be in, so I’ll see what I can find out from her. She seems to always be in the know.”
“Yeah, Barbara is awesome,” I agree. “Get back to me if you hear anything. I think it’d be the right move if the Comets gave Graham a second look. We had such great chemistry with him when he was out here in May.”
“For sure,” Lars says, nodding as he digs into his salad, spearing a long strip of grilled chicken and some leafy greens. “We definitely did. And, yeah, I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Cool.”
We get busy eating then, until I place my fork on the table, swipe my mouth with my cloth napkin, and ask, “So how are things with you and Becca? Are y’all still madly in love?”
“You know it.” He smiles contentedly. “Being engaged to her is amazing.”
“Ah, yes, the impending wedding.” I cross my arms over my chest, my sky blue tee pulling at my solid pecs. “Have you guys decided on a date yet?”
“Nothing that’s set in stone,” Lars replies. “But we’re thinking maybe sometime next summer would work.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I shoot him a genuine smile and quietly add, “You know I’m really happy for you both.”
“I know, Zane. Thanks.”
It’s true—I’m actually thrilled for my friends.
Though it hasn’t always been easy for them. Poor Lars had to chase Becca like crazy just to get her to commit. She was quite the runner.
But it’s all good now.
Clearing his throat, Lars asks, “What about you, Zane? Is there anyone special in your life?”
I bark out a bitter guffaw. “Nah, I’d have to be dating for that to happen.”
He looks confused. “Why aren’t you? You know you could have just about any woman you want in this town. Our waitress sure seems to prove that.”
“Hey, she’s clearly into you too,” I remind him.
He shrugs. “Eh, maybe so. But I’m taken, remember?”
“Yeah, you are.” I sigh. “Still, I don’t want to go out with the waitress. In fact, I’m not all that big on dating tons of girls in general. Not anymore. That was me in the past when I was nineteen or twenty. But now at twenty-six, I only want to go out with someone I see potential with. Anything else feels like a waste of time.”
“I hear ya.” Lars blows out a breath. “I’m all about commitment myself these days.”
Eyeing him pointedly, but in a good kind of way, I mutter, “Clearly.”
In some ways, it feels like I should have someone in my life. I mean, hell, here I am having a beautiful home built out in the country. It’s a big one too, really too big for one person.
But a home for one person is what it is…for now.
Sighing, I call the waitress over since we’re done eating and ask for the check.
It’s time to get out of here.
When Lars requests for his bill to be calculated separately, I wave my hand and say, “No way. Don’t worry. I got this.”
“Okay.” He starts putting his wallet back into his cargo shorts pocket. “But I’m paying next time.”
I’m cool with that and tell him, “Deal.”
We wrap up once the check is paid and head our separate ways—him to the love of his life and me to an empty, not even complete house.
Do I really want this to be my life?
No, but what can I do?
Almost Busted
I hear the vehicle in the distance before I see it—the rumble of a big engine and tires crunching down the dirt lane.
It’s quiet out here in no-man’s-land most of the time, so this is a new development.
One I better keep my eyes on.
Running across the master bedroom hardwood floor to a second-floor window that was installed just a day ago—before that it was an empty space covered by a piece of plywood—I peer out through the glass, smudged with workers’ fingerprints, and spy a shiny black Escalade trundling down the long, unfinished driveway leading to this house.
A house that isn’t mine, mind you.
Nope, this big brick monstrosity is somebody’s under-construction mansion that I’ve been squatting in for the past several days.
My break-in commenced when I found an unlocked already-installed window on the first floor and crawled right in.
Squinting, I swipe sweat from my brow.
Jeez, it’s freaking hot today.
Even my running shorts and thin tank top feel like too much.
The electricity is on in the house, and the workers installed air conditioning just the other day.
But I would never dare turn it on.
Taking that kind of chance would be a surefire way for me to be discovered.
And I sure as hell don’t want that.
I need to hide.
Sighing, I resume watching the SUV.
This isn’t a worker pulling up. None of them have ever arrived in a Cadillac of any kind.
Speaking of the construction crew, they’ve been pretty easy to evade. I suppose because they’re always busy working on one project or another.
It was plumbing the day I arrived.
Good thing for that, for obvious reasons.
The SUV rolls to a stop, and I watch as the driver’s door pops open.
My jaw drops when a really freaking gorgeous guy hops out.
“Oh, wow,” I mutter, rocking back on the heels of my bare feet.
He has to be the owner of this place. I mean, he’s scanning the property with authority, like in observation mode.
While he does that, I watch him, my inquisitive green eyes reflecting back at me in the smudged glass.
After checking out the sides of the home, the man, tapping his chin, returns to the front. He seems to be assessing the wooden framework that’s in place for his driveway, a long one that ends in a semicircle.
From the looks of it, cement should be poured soon.
Not that I’m an expert or anything. Though this isn’t my first rodeo when it comes to squatting in under-construction homes.
When the guy abruptly glances up at the window I’m in, I scoot back so I’m completely out of sight.
Phew, that was close.
I can’t take a chance of being discovered.
Thankfully, the guy goes back to checking around the driveway, while I resume checking him out.
He’s tall and lean but muscular.
I like the way his dark jeans seem to fit him so well, hugging his strong thighs. He looks so good in them that he could probably model the damn brand.
The rest of him is hot too.
The light blue T-shirt he has on accentuates his sculpted upper body. He has nice wide shoulders, what look to be hard pecs, and some big-ass biceps.
Yes, please.
And, yum, his face is really nice, as well.
Even from afar, his rugged cheekbones and strong jaw stand out. And his jet-black hair is smoothed back all sexy-like, completing the picture of pure, raw unadulterated sex on legs.
Did I mentio
n it’s getting even hotter in here?
Fanning my face, I cock my head.
It’s then that I realize there’s something vaguely familiar about this man.
Not that I know him or anything, though I kind of wish I did.
But no, this is more like a feeling I’ve seen him somewhere before.
But where?
Before hiding out, I rarely went anywhere.
I never even met any friends in this little town.
But I’d sure like to meet this guy.
Of course, it’d have to be under far different circumstances, which would never be the case.
“Ugh.” I swipe more sweat from my brow.
Since I’m pretty much sweltering, what with this dude’s hotness and the actual heat, I begin fanning myself again—carefully, though, so as to not attract attention.
But the dude’s not looking up at the window, anyway.
He’s heading for the front door.
Wait, what?
“Eek,” I squeak out, panicked. “Morgan Delano, you better move your ass before you get caught and this guy calls the police.”
Shit, I don’t want that.
Not only am I trespassing on his property, but I have a strong desire to lie low in general.
I don’t want anyone knowing where I am.
Not that anyone who cares about me is looking.
There’s no one like that in my life.
Sad as it is, I have no family to speak of, at least none who would ever bother searching for me.
At twenty-four years of age, I lead a pretty sad, lonely life.
It’s far better this way, though, seeing as there’s one particular person I don’t ever want knowing where I am—my ex-husband, Neil.
I’ve kept well hidden from him for over a year, ever since I left Florida with pretty much just the clothes on my back.
We’d been divorced for a while by that point, after a brief, ill-advised marriage.
But he just wouldn’t leave me alone.
It actually got scary.
Real scary.
I had enough money saved by that point that I could take off.
So I did.
I bought a one-way bus ticket to Columbus. It was the only one I could afford and still have money left over to start a new life.
That’s how I landed here in Ohio.
From the downtown area of Columbus, where the bus dropped me off, I hitchhiked north to a little town called Newark.