Page 36 of Matched with the Player

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She hadn’t intended to be an instant celebrity. But as Stacy Goodwell sat cross-legged at the hotel desk and stared at the stats for her social media account, she had to admit, the new star status was kind of fun.

Overnight, her latest video had gone viral. After she’d uploaded the footage from the bus ride to Pittsburgh, she’d stayed awake in her hotel long enough to watch an amazing thing happen. The hit counter went nuts. A few college kids had stumbled on it and shared it with half their campus.

Her number of followers grew so fast she could hardly keep track.

All in all, this success felt great as she lounged in her sweats at a cheap bed and breakfast that didn’t mind pets. Tink and Belle had made the trip with her - travelling under the bus driver’s radar last night – and they’d had their own turn in the limelight during the edited video of her adventures called “Leaving Home.” She hadn’t quite figured out how to monetize the effort, but she knew that other people with big followings did just that. For now, she still had her regular check from the newspaper and she could walk a little taller knowing she was calling all the shots-- from her bank account to her love life.

A shrill yap from under her chair seemed to remind her she wasn’t having much luck with the latter yet. How was it a dog could detect a mood? She picked up Belle and snuggled her close, appreciating the empathy. Isaac Reynolds had laughed at the idea of being with her. Maybe it served her right that she’d gotten a reality check from a guy she liked after how many times she’d given the slip to men who’d hit on her.

Standing, she walked away from the laptop and wondered if she’d find another man who made her feel the way Isaac had. She’d met hundreds of eligible males since she was old enough to date. Not once had she felt so at ease with a guy and attracted at the same time. Now, peering out the window down to the street level, she debated how to solve her romantic problems?—

What was her Caravan doing parked in front of the hotel?

Sure there were other silver Caravans in the world. She’d tried to bust into one just the other night. But what were the chances they’d be parked right outside her bed and breakfast? Suspicion growing, she grabbed a navy silk bathrobe covered with hand-painted Hawaiian flowers and marched into the hallway, the dogs click-clacking along hardwood floors behind her.

She just knew that had to be her van down there and that her father was responsible. He must have followed her here. Fired up and ready for a confrontation if only to point out she was doing fine on her own, Stacy nodded to her hostess while the woman vacuumed a carpet downstairs. Breezing past the registration desk, she levered open the main door and saw a man inside the van.

A very familiar man with thick dark hair and heavy eyebrows that, now that she thought about it, really suited him. A wave of heat rolled through her at the sight of him.

“Isaac?” She stopped in her tracks, realizing too late that she’d failed to put on real shoes. Her orange terry cloth slippers looked out of place on the pavement.

The man she’d met two nights ago peered back at her through the window, his expression inscrutable. Was he surprised to see her? Or had he known she was here?

With most men, she wouldn’t have asked. Then again, with most guys, she wouldn’t have cared. But Marissa had told her that Isaac Reynolds was an Internet marketing genius and a techno-whiz who’d made millions before he turned twenty-five. A kid from a poor Detroit suburb who took apart old computers for fun. And something about his quietly sexy charm appealed to Stacy like no other guy, certainly not Kyle Murphy, who’d only been the decoy romantic interest. She was glad that Marissa had made a move on the hockey star and she’d texted her last night to tell her so.

Tink jumped at the driver’s side door of the Caravan. Stacy lifted her fist to rap on the window when Isaac opened the door, swiveling toward her to step down to the street. His arms flexed as he moved and she remembered what those lean, wiry muscles felt like around her.

“Can we talk inside?” he asked. As if they were going to chat about the weather.

As if he hadn’t laughed it up over her foolish idea to ask him out just two days ago. It would be so much easier to be mad at him if he wasn’t so hot. What was it about his quiet, thoughtful stares that made her feel like an interesting, alluring woman instead of a replaceable hot babe?

“I don’t think so.” She folded her arms, silently urging her pets to show a little teeth. Maybe give a warning growl.

Instead, they seemed intent on circling him to death, chasing each other around his heels.

“Okay,” he agreed slowly, as if the word had to be dragged out of him. “But do you want to, maybe, put clothes on first?”

For an instant, she was genuinely scared she’d walked out onto the street naked. She wouldn’t put it past her to flake out and forget to dress. But no, she wore a perfectly respectable bathrobe over semi-respectable pinstripe pajamas. They probably weren’t cut out for the commercial area growing up around a few old residential buildings. But she had to think the few folks living on this street must venture out to get their newspapers in a bathrobe now and then.

“No. I’m good, thanks.” Although, as soon as she said it, she wondered if the cool spring breeze might inadvertently press the fabric close enough to reveal a little too much.

Yet, instead of arguing with her, Isaac reached back into his van and withdrew a black wool blazer. He handed over the jacket and stood silently.

She blinked back a wave of emotion. Her dad would have launched into conversation the second he saw her and not let up until he’d cataloged all the ways she could have handled the situation differently than storming outside in her pajamas. Isaac just covered her up.

But no matter how much she wanted him, she had to remember, he didn’t want her. She took a deep breath.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, the scent of his aftershave a pleasant musk in her nose with the collar of his dark jacket turned up to cover her neck.

“I followed you,” he said simply, flooring her.

“Excuse me?” She snapped her fingers ineffectually at the Chihuahua mixed breeds, trying to quiet them so she could hear whatever scant words fell from Isaac’s mouth.

“I wanted to know more about, so I looked you up online. I watched the video and respect what you’re doing.”

“You wanted to know more about me.” She didn’t ask why, although the question was burning to come out. But she wasn’t going to appear overeager with this guy and… oh, the hell with it. “Why? Why would you want to know more about someone you found lacking just two days ago?”

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