Secret Baby for the Player

SECRET BABY FOR THE PLAYER A BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND COLLEGE SPORTS ROMANCE MEG SUMMERS CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Epilogue CHAPTER 1 ZACH Whenever I think of Ivy Collins, I get so hard I can hardly think. This time, it’s the sight of her lacy bra hanging over the sink that sets me off. Imagining the material pressed against her skin makes me groan in frustration. You know what you signed up for, I tell myself now as I look down at my erection. Granted, when I skipped a whole weekend of football practice (not a good look for the captain and star of my community college team), I hadn’t quite thought things through. All I’d known was that my parents were going out of town for their anniversary weekend and Ivy, the nerdy girl-next-door, was babysitting my little sister while they were away. But, somehow, nothing’s working. None of my charms are paying off. And I'm left having to give myself a hand for the fifth time this weekend. Pun very much intended. I wrap my right hand around my throbbing eight inches, supporting myself against the wall with my left hand. God, I can imagine her looking at me with those piercing eyes she always keeps hidden behind those sexy librarian glasses. Her mouth looks like ripe fruit ready for tasting and I can barely wait to help myself. Closing my eyes, I imagine it’s her hand as I start moving my hand up and down, squeezing sometimes, imagining how she’d feel if I were to thrust into her fully. In my mind, she drops to her knees and her mouth is closing in on me. My thumb swipes my head, as I picture her tongue doing the same and her name slips out before I can stop it. “Ivy.” Of course, that’s the exact moment the bathroom door is thrown open by the object of my desire. “Ohmygod!” She stares at me for a couple of seconds in shock before letting out the loudest scream I’ve ever heard in my life. I don’t have the brain power to do or say anything before Ivy literally scrambles away. “Ivy,” I finally say, but I’m met with resounding silence. That girl can run. Not the reaction I usually get when a girl sees me naked, I think, feeling a little sour as I reach for my towel. Two minutes later, towel wrapped around my waist, I’m walking downstairs, unsure of what to say to her. I’m not usually tongue-tied around girls my age, but then again, this is completely unchartered territory. Ivy’s sitting in front of the TV, a remote in her hand. I can only see her profile from this angle, but I still take a second to admire her. Truth is, Ivy doesn’t turn heads like some of the other girls I’ve seen around Sundale–for instance, Pam, my very recent ex. Her cherubic face still gets her mistaken for a sixteen-year-old, even though she’s nineteen, and she opts to dress in shades of gray. But even beneath her odd clothes and owlish glasses, she’s undeniably pretty. Granted, even I hadn’t noticed that about her. Since I’d moved here from Long Island a few years ago, she’d been my neighbor, and all I remember feeling was amusement whenever she blushed after I spoke to her. At the time, I’d been receiving far more female attention as a new high school football player in Sundale than I’d ever received in all my years at Long Island, so she was just another nerd who had the hots for me. The weird thing is she reminds me of my middle school best friend in the oddest and sickest of ways. They have the same initials, the same shade of green eyes, and an obsession with too-large glasses. And they’re both nerds, the exact category of girls I usually avoid. Or used to. Because shortly after I started at Sundale community college, I got tired of being with variations of the same girl, and started to expand my reach. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not tired of playing the field. But I am tired of the vain, self-important, selfish, empty shells I’ve been enjoying until recently. The pretty packages that have nothing inside. I find myself wanting something different. Wanting more. Needing more. And Ivy is just that. So different, and yet so compelling. As if hearing my thoughts, Ivy turns to me, and I’m briefly distracted by her large green eyes as she glares in my direction. To her credit, she doesn’t bolt again, even though I can see her fingers trembling slightly. “Hey,” I tell her. I don’t mean to be the douche who grins during a sincere apology, but I can’t not smile when I see Ivy sitting here, her overlarge clothes covering her petite body in the most alluring way. Even when she doesn’t try to be, she is cute. “I’m sorry about what you saw.” Ivy’s cheeks flush red. I feel my grin spread of its own accord. This makes me feel better, I admit, knowing that she’s not as immune to my charms as she pretends to be. She mumbles something, her cheeks still red. I take a step closer, now only a few feet away from her. “What?” I ask. She looks up at me, the expression on her face almost terrified. “No, you’re not,” she says, her voice trembling a little. I cock my head to one side. “What do you mean?” She stands up, almost tripping over her too-long denim overalls. “You’re not… sorry,” she says, now staring down at her feet. As her face turns red, she adds, “You wanted