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“You would love Vegas,” Ellie agrees. “There’s a party pretty much every minute of every day somewhere around here, and most of them take some level of planning.”
“What I’d really love to do is give back to my community. I’ve started looking into running my own business planning charity events,” I say.
“Ooh, I know Erin wants help with the Wild Aces Charity Ball,” Ellie says. “She’s the director of charitable contributionsfor the Aces, and she already had a full plate when the ball was added. If she could outsource that, she could get her focus back into doing more community outreach with players.”
“Jack was saying she’s looking for an assistant,” Luke pipes in from the driver’s seat, referring to his brother and the team owner…and the guy whose jersey I’m currently wearing. “It’s not the same as being a senior event planner running your own business, but if you want to get your foot in the door in Vegas, we know people.”
I laugh. “That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t think I’m leaving San Diego.”
“I don’t blame you,” Kaylee says. “WeloveSan Diego. We’re there all the time using Jack’s beach house.” She elbows her husband, and they both laugh.
“Why don’t you want to move here?” Ellie asks.
I sigh. “I wasn’t expecting my dad to move, to be honest. My life is there. My friends, my career.” I lift a shoulder. “The Storm.”
“The Storm,” Ben snorts. “Look, we’ll be your friends here, and we already practically got you the job at the Aces. We’ll convert you to a fan, too.”
I laugh as I hold up both hands. “I’m working on it. I always cheer for my dad. But if the Aces were playing the Storm…” I trail off and make a face that says how unsure I am of who I’d cheer for in that situation.
Everyone laughs as Luke parks at the bar, and we all hop out. Truth be told, I do feel like I fit in here. I don’t know if I could sit with Ellie and Kaylee discussing the spicy scenes in whatever book I’m reading, but I could fly back to San Diego for book night, or we could do it over Zoom if we had to.
I’m not really considering moving here.
It’s just a thought.
But as we walk into the Gridiron, I spot Asher Nash sitting at a table with a few of his teammates.
His heated eyes fall to me, and I’m filled with hope that maybe there’s a chance.
Chapter 20: Asher Nash
Why the Fuck Does She Have to Be My Coach’s Daughter?
I had to come.
I had to talk to her.
I had to…have a drink.
“You’re wearing pineapples on your shirt and drinking tequila?” Justin asks.
I know he’s trying to make conversation, but I’m trying to make eye contact with someone across the bar.
“They say agave pairs well with pineapple,” I mutter.
She seems focused on her conversation with Ellie Dalton, my publicist, and I wonder if I could covertly sneak Ellie a text to let her know I need a minute with the OC’s daughter.
She’s the fucking OC’s daughter.
Of course she is.
That makes the fruit even more forbidden. It makes me want another taste, another thrust, another night.
Fuck, though. I can’t. He’s my new coach, and I’m doing everything I can to fix my reputation. Banging the coach’s daughter isn’t exactly part of that plan, particularly not when we bonded last week and I told him I’d never even think of going near his daughter.
Fuck.
It’s been three long as fuck months, during which time I assumed the memory would fade. It hasn’t. It’s as if that night happened last night, and now that we’re in the same room again…I can see the heat in her eyes. But there’s something else—something that wasn’t there before.
