“I’m sure he can. But he happens to be right, I’m afraid. You are getting some gray hair mixed in here and there. Hey, relax,” assured Jordan as he glimpsed the murderous look in Finn’s eyes. “It happens to all of us. At least with your hair color it’s not as noticeable as it is with Max and me. Just pluck ‘em out. That’s what I do.”
Finn’s retort was interrupted by the buzzing of Jordan’s phone that signaled an incoming text. In the next minute, Jordan, too, was standing up and shrugging into his suit jacket.
“Sorry to eat and run, but one of my patients was just admitted to the hospital, and sounds like she’s going into labor a week early,” offered Jordan apologetically. “Look, if you don’t want to go to New Orleans alone, or invite one of your legion of former lovers along, ask one of your brothers to meet you there. I’ll call you in a couple of days, okay?”
Finn tried real hard not to feel abandoned as his best friend of twenty years hurried out of the restaurant where they had met up with Max an hour or so ago for one of their twice monthly lunches. He couldn’t help feeling nostalgic for the good old days, in particular the four years they had all been at Stanford together, and practically inseparable. Even Max had been fun in those days - well, at least a hell of a lot more fun than he was now. The three years that they had cohabitated in the frat house had arguably been the best years of Finn’s life, even better than his time in the NFL. He’d been naïve enough to believe that life would always be that simple, that uncomplicated, and just plain fun. Finn hadn’t counted on Max turning into a grim workaholic with a nonexistent love life, and some deep-seated emotional trauma that he still refused to discuss.
And he sure as hell hadn’t counted on Jordan - his longtime comrade-in-arms and fellow manwhore - acquiring a permanent, live-in girlfriend who was apparently going to become his fiancée within the next few weeks. More than once over the past several months since Aubrey had moved in with Jordan, Finn had silently blamed her for breaking up the group, much like Yoko Ono had been accused of driving a wedge between the members of the Beatles. Over time Finn had grudgingly come to accept Aubrey, especially after seeing how happy Jordan was with her, but he still couldn’t help feeling a little resentful over her intrusion into his best friend’s life.
Rather than follow Max and Jordan out of the restaurant, Finn ordered a cappuccino and dessert, in no particular rush to leave and head back to his rather lonely condo. He scrolled through the substantial list of contacts on his phone, trying to think of a likely candidate to invite to New Orleans. He’d instantly dismissed Jordan’s suggestion of asking one of his brothers, knowing that neither would be able to go. Neal, who was three years younger than Jordan, was expecting his third child with his wife Jessica, and Finn recalled now that baby was due within the next couple of weeks. As for his younger brother Troy, there was no way in hell that his uber-controlling wife Brenna would ever allow him to accompany Finn anywhere ever again after the last party he’d attended with his older brother. Finn acknowledged with a naughty grin that it had probably been the photos of him and Troy that had been splashed all over social media - especially the one of Troy holding a tequila bottle with a buxom redhead practically sitting on his lap - that had caused Brenna to freak out and all but ground Troy for the next couple of years.
No, his brothers were definitely out. So was their baby sister Kerry’s live-in boyfriend, whom she’d warned on numerous occasions to never, ever let her big brother Finn invite him anywhere without her. And while Finn often invited his parents to attend games and other events, this party-filled weekend in New Orleans was definitely not the sort of occasion when a guy wanted his mother and father along.
But he did owe his parents a phone call, he realized guiltily, and pressed the call button on their contact info. He tried to call home at least once a week, but it had been closer to two since he’d last talked to them. Fortunately, his mother and father led busy lives of their own, between helping out with the grandchildren, participating in the various clubs and groups they belonged to, and all of the traveling they did. His father was technically retired, having handed over the daily workings of the construction business to Neal and Troy, but Jerry McManus still spent plenty of time overseeing projects - far too much time, according to his wife Susan.
Unsurprisingly, it was Susan who picked up the phone, since Jerry was more than content to leave such things up to her. He might have been the boss at work, but he and his four children had always known that at home it was Susan who ruled with a firm but gentle and loving hand. Finn thought - and definitely not for the first time - that one of the reasons behind his own resolve to remain a bachelor for the rest of his life was because it just wasn’t possible to have the sort of happy, devoted marriage that his parents had enjoyed for over forty years. His mom, he thought with a grin, was one in a million, and fortunately his father was very well aware of that fact and had always treated her accordingly.
“Finn!” his mother exclaimed now. “I was starting to worry about you, sweetie. It’s not like you to go more than a week without calling. But I know you’re busy, so I didn’t want to bother you by calling.”
“Hey, you’d never bother me and you know it,” he chided gently. “And sorry for calling a few days late. Guess I’m just getting a little forgetful in my old age. Jesus, Mom, can you believe I’m going to be forty years old soon? A fact that those asses Jordan and Max just love to keep reminding me of.”
Susan chuckled. “That’s because both of them have already hit that milestone, and they feel the need to share the experience. And forty’s just an age, Finn. Like thirty was. And like fifty will be in ten more years. You can’t stop time, sweetie, no matter how hard you try.”
“Have you been talking to Jordan?” grumbled Finn. “Because I swear he said almost the exact same thing to me recently. And I know I can’t stop myself from getting older, Mom. It just - sucks is all.”
“If you want my opinion, I think you’re lonely,” declared Susan. “Oh, I know you have friends in every major city in the country, and legions of fans. And despite the fact that you think I don’t pay attention to such things, I’m well aware that you’re a - well, let’s call it a playboy for lack of a more polite term. I’m not going to lecture you, Finn - wouldn’t do a lick of good if I did - but maybe it’s time for you to, well, settle down a little. You don’t have to get married and start having babies like your brothers have both done, but how about finding a woman you can actually bring home to meet your family for once?”
Finn shuddered to imagine his family’s reaction if he were to bring - for example - the little nymphet who’d shared his bed last night. It was a sure bet that his mother would have instantly regretted such a suggestion the moment she laid eyes on someone like Mandy.
“Hey,” he teased, “you know the real reason I’ve never brought a girl home. Because the minute she met you she’d have the biggest inferiority complex in the world, knowing there was no way she could ever live up to you. And I’m too kindhearted to ever knowingly put a woman through that sort of thing, Mom.”
Susan laughed. “God, you are such a bullshitter, Finn! You get that from my father, of course. Everyone always said he must have kissed the Blarney Stone a thousand times to have mastered the art of bullshit the way he did. And you’re just like him.”
“How’s Jessica doing? About ready to pop that new baby out yet?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.
He didn’t fool his mother for even a second with his tactics, but she played along and allowed him to steer the conversation in the direction he chose. They chatted amiably for several more minutes, with Finn promising to call Jerry on his cell phone later this afternoon since his father was currently out at a job site.
After the call ended, Finn stared off into space for long seconds, wondering if perhaps he was wrong about this whole bachelor thing after all. In the space of a couple of hours, his two best friends, plus his mother - three of his staunches
t supporters - had all not so subtly hinted that maybe it was time for him to start acting more like an adult instead of some overgrown twentysomething.
He scowled, then resumed scrolling through his list of contacts, trying to find a name - pretty much any name at this point – of someone he could invite to accompany him to New Orleans. He rarely invited one of his multitude of female acquaintances to go away with him to these events, preferring to be unattached so that he could freely sample the bevy of beautiful women who would certainly be in attendance. Plus, in Finn’s vast experience, inviting a woman along for a weekend getaway usually gave her ideas - the wrong kind - that he was interested in a longer term relationship with her. Therefore, he either brought along a male friend or went solo when he traveled, whether it was a business-related trip or purely for pleasure.
“There. He’ll do,” declared Finn as he paused by one of the names in his contact list.
Zane owned a condo in the same building as Finn, though on a lower level floor. He was only in his mid-twenties, but had some insanely high-paying job with one of the big tech firms in Silicon Valley, affording him the opportunity to have purchased the million dollar plus condo. He was one of the group of guys in the building who practically hero-worshipped Finn, both for his exploits on and off the football field, and eagerly jumped on any opportunity to hang out with him. Finn had partied several times with Zane and his friends, even though on one of those occasions their cute, flirty waitress had mistakenly referred to Finn as Zane’s father. The fact that she hadn’t been joking had stung Finn, making him wonder for a few minutes what the hell he was doing hanging out in some trendy bar surrounded by a group of Millennials who were all ten to fifteen years his junior.
But since he didn’t seem to have a whole lot of other options at the moment - and because hanging around Zane was way more fun than being with that love-struck sap Jordan or the depressingly somber Max - Finn pressed the call button on his phone.
Chapter Three
“So, you’re definitely for sure going to call me tomorrow, right? I mean, you’re way too sweet to be one of those assholes who swears up and down that they’re going to call you but then never do. So you be sure not to spoil the very good impression I have of you, okay?”
Finn smiled lazily at the raven haired beauty who’d shared his bed last night, tucking a glossy strand of that jet black hair behind her ear. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied teasingly, even though he knew she’d be cursing his name vividly within the next few days. “So does this mean you had a good time last night?”
“Mmm, I’ll say,” she purred, sliding her arms around his waist and pressing herself against his naked torso. “The best time I’ve had in forever. Too bad I have to dash off to work now, or we could have ourselves an even better time. But I guess that will have to wait. I’m free tonight, by the way. And tomorrow night, too. Or really any night at all that you might want to see me again. So don’t disappoint me, Finn, okay? Promise me that you’ll call.”
“I pride myself on never disappointing a beautiful woman,” he replied suavely, effectively sidestepping his bedmate’s pointed question. “And since the last thing I want to do is make you late for work, give me a goodbye kiss, hmm?”
The slender female in his arms complied eagerly, winding her arms around his neck as she gave him a kiss that was almost desperately pleading. Finn wasn’t that much of an uncaring bastard not to feel at least a little bit guilty that he would not, in fact, be calling her again. But Serena - he’d made damned sure to get her name straight - simply wasn’t worth a second go-round in his opinion. She was pretty enough, with her trim figure, almond-shaped eyes, and straight, shoulder length hair. She’d told him over their second round of drinks last night that her mother was of Chinese descent while her father was an amalgamation of French, Dutch, and Polish. Serena worked as a paralegal, with aspirations of going to law school, but the fact that she was smarter and more sophisticated than most of the women he dated didn’t seem to matter much when it came to her eagerness to get into his pants.
And while the sex had been good it definitely hadn’t been spectacular, and Finn had half-wished that she would turn out to be the sort who didn’t like to sleep over. Unfortunately for him, not only did Serena insist on sleeping over but she was also a cuddler. He’d never much cared for snuggling after sex, and found it a little claustrophobic when a woman insisted on doing so. One of the reasons he’d bought such a big bed was so that he could have plenty of space to stretch out while he slept, and having someone practically on top of him more or less defeated the purpose.
He’d offered up silent thanks when Serena had slightly overslept, and then had to rush around to get ready so that she wouldn’t be late to work. She’d been so busy showering, dressing, and doing her makeup that she hadn’t had much time for chit chat, something that Finn really hated, especially during those awkward “morning after” times. Anxious for her to take her leave, he had gallantly fixed her a cup of coffee, apologizing for not having any food in the house. But Serena hadn’t seemed to mind the latter, insisting that she rarely if ever ate breakfast anyway, and thanked him profusely for being such a sweetie to make her coffee. Her gratitude, however, hadn’t made him feel any less like a dick for already knowing that she wouldn’t be hearing from him again.
“Hey, you’d better head out,” he reminded her gently, taking a step or two back. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I got you in trouble with your boss or anything.”
Serena grinned at him wickedly. “Oh, but you’re so much fun to get into trouble with, Finn,” she teased. “God, I have never been so tempted to call in sick in my life! In fact - ”
“No.” He shook his head firmly. “Don’t risk your job over me, okay? Besides, I have to head out to a business appointment in another hour or so myself, so I can’t really stick around.”
She sighed, the disappointment evident on her pretty face. “Okay. You’ve convinced me to be a good girl and not play hooky. Even though you’d be totally worth losing my job over.”
Finn laughed, giving her a pat on her tight ass. “You’re a very good girl. At least you were last night.”
Serena batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously, but whatever provocative comment she made in reply was totally lost on Finn when he glanced up just as the door to the condo across the hall was being firmly shut. And when he got his first look at his new neighbor, the one he’d heard a whole lot about but hadn’t really believed all the hype, he could only stare at the breathtaking vision in stunned disbelief.
The unit across the hall had actually been sold more than two months ago, with the former occupant - another young techie millionaire - having been recently married and then making the decision to move to suburbia. In the following weeks Finn had observed a veritable army of construction workers, painters, electricians, and plumbers in and out of the condo. He’d learned, courtesy of the overly friendly and very gossipy building concierge, that the new owner was having pretty much the entire place remodeled.
Finn had been out of town when his new neighbor had finally moved in a couple of weeks ago, and thus far hadn’t run into her. But several of his friends in the building most definitely had, and they had tried their best to describe her to Finn.
Tried being the operative word, he thought faintly, as he continued to stare at the most strikingly beautiful female he’d ever seen in his life, because mere words really couldn’t do this woman’s looks justice. His friends had failed miserably in their feeble attempts to accurately describe her - not, of course, that Finn would have really believed that such a woman existed outside of one’s imagination.
Even with the four-inch heels that encased her tiny feet, she was petite, probably no more than five feet tall without the sexy stilettos. Her dark brown hair gleamed like spun silk, falling in loose waves well past her shoulders, and Finn could imagine tunneling his face into those luxurious tresses, or wrapping a lustrous strand arou
nd his hand as he pulled her in close for a kiss. She had a small, heart-shaped face, with sculpted cheekbones, an adorable little nose, and just the tiniest hint of a cleft to her chin. Her big eyes were a deep chocolate brown, fringed by long, curly lashes, and framed by daintily arched brows. Her makeup was expertly but tastefully applied, though he knew instinctively that someone with her looks would be equally stunning without even a lick of cosmetics.
And that mouth of hers. Christ, what he’d love to do to that deliciously full mouth, which was glossed over in a luscious shade of pink. He wanted to do very, very sinful things to that pretty mouth - wanted to claim it in a long, dirty kiss, wanted to nibble seductively at those plump lips, wanted to guide his cock between her lips and watch as they moved up and down on him, taking a little bit more of him inside her mouth with each thrust.
He swallowed with some difficulty, forcing himself to tear his hungry gaze from her mouth. But when his eyes began to travel down her body, he literally had to bite down on his tongue to stifle a low groan. For such a tiny little thing, she sure as hell had curves in all the right places - and then some. The form fitting dress of rose pink linen looked as though it had been custom sewn to flatter her full breasts, tiny waist, and gently curved hips. The V-neck of the ultra feminine dress displayed a tasteful amount of cleavage, while the hem ended an inch or two above the knee. She looked both classy and provocative, elegant and hot as hell. It wasn’t a combination Finn was used to seeing in a woman, and to say he was intrigued by her was grossly understating the instant attraction he was feeling.
He was so mesmerized by his new neighbor that he more or less forgot about the woman who still had her arms entwined around his neck. Or that fact that he looked particularly disreputable this morning - clad only in a pair of faded, ripped jeans, with no shirt or shoes, his overlong hair a rumpled mess, and his face unshaven. The contrast between his disheveled appearance and his beautiful new neighbor’s sophisticated, perfectly put together one couldn’t have been more glaring. And judging by the look of distaste that crossed her perfect features, and the slight wrinkle of that pert little nose, it was evident that she was very well aware of that disparity.
The Player Gets Coached Page 3