Page 8 of Scoring Chances
He says it like there’s no arguing with him, and now I know for sure that he’s flirting with me.
He sends me a wink before moving to the side so I can step in after him.
“Welcome to our home, Sid.”
I know he doesn’t mean it to sound like he's welcoming me to our home, but my stupid brain sends signals to my stomach to give me butterflies at this moment, as if that's exactly what he meant.
The inside of the house is even more ridiculous than the outside. A giant winding staircase. Beautiful floor to ceiling windows that are twice as big as anything I've ever seen in a private home. It even smells expensive.
There’s a woman that looks like a maid dusting the area near the entrance. She’s older, probably in her sixties. I decide she must be nice when she turns and shoots me a welcoming smile. But then she immediately looks at Joshua behind me with eyes that look like she'd rather him not be here. And I wonder if I'm wrong about her.
“Julia,” he says, surprised. “I didn’t think you were going to be in until tomorrow.”
“I’m here every Friday, Mr. Hicks. Never changes,” she says with a hint of a Cajun accent. “Is that the new nanny?” she motions to me.
I extend a hand. “Hi, I’m Cassidy.”
She hesitates a moment but decides to return the gesture. “I hope you last longer than the last one, Ms. Cassidy.”
She drops my hand and gives Joshua another stern look. Something in my stomach drops.
Joshua laughs nervously, “Oh, Julia. Always a pleasure.” He puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me further into the house.
“I’m serious. Don’t let him get to you,” she warns me as we walk away.
“Anyways,” Joshua says, ignoring the woman. “This is the kitchen. Help yourself to anything you want. Our chef will be in around noon to prep meals for the weekend.”
“Chef?” I ask.
He looks at me. “Yeah, so if you have any allergies or preferences, let him know. He’ll cook whatever you want.”
“Oh,” I breathe out.
“Do you have more bags in the car?” he says, eyeing my backpack again.
I shake my head and tug it closer. “Nope. This is everything.”
“Seriously?”
I laugh. “Yeah… I’m not loaded like you guys.”
He cocks his head.
“Not that being loaded is a bad thing. Obviously… I just… I don’t have a lot of things, that’s all.”
Ok, Sid. Time to shut up.
“Okay,” he says with a smile. “Well, come on. I’ll show you to your room.”
He goes up the stairs just outside the kitchen, and I shake my head. I’m sure at some point over the next six weeks, this will stop feeling weird, and being in the presence of a celebrity sports star will wear off… but clearly, right now is not that moment.
My palms are clammy. I’m pretty sure I’m breathing erratically. And now I can smell the cologne he has on in full force. It's doing something to me that I don't need to feel for the man giving me a life-changing opportunity.
I watch as his muscles coil as he moves. He’s every bit the athlete I know him to be. And I’m paying so much attention to his back muscles that I trip on the last step and stumble right into him.
We both come crashing down onto the floor, with me right on top of those rock-hard muscles.
I scramble. “Oh my god, I-I am so–”