Page 17 of Touchdowns and Temptations

“Football is my life,” I correct her. “You can't compare shitty games like dodgeball to football.”

“For me, it's all sport,” she sighs and rustles again.

“What are you doing?” I want to know.

“I’m trying to open a bag of potato chips,” she answers. “I feel like it.” I can't help but laugh. I just have to laugh. “Why are you laughing?”

“Well,” I mumble. “Usually women like you...”

“Women like me?” she immediately cuts me off. I press my lips together, hoping I didn't put my foot in it again.

“What are women like me like?” Cara asks. The bag rustles again and then she smacks her lips.

“Women like you go to the gym all the time, eat only salad, and watch their figure.”

“When am I supposed to do that?” she asks, amused. “That's impossible. I have a full-time job and a social life.”

I have to laugh again. Every word she says makes me like her more. Cara doesn't exercise, doesn't eat salad, and seems to enjoy life to the fullest. I like to splurge on food too, but I usually have to pull myself together. It's okay on birthdays, Thanksgiving and Christmas, but the rest of the time I stick to my diet plan. Lots of fruits, vegetables and nutritious foods. In professional sports, sweets and fast food are not welcome.

“You don't have time to eat healthy?”

“Well,” Cara sighs and I hear her sit down again. “If you're looking for a woman who likes to exercise, watches what she eats and generally gives up everything good, you've come to the wrong place.”

“Are you flirting with me now, Cara Catherine Corse?” I ask mischievously.

“No,” she says promptly. “I'm just telling you that I'm not who you think I am.”

“I'd like to meet you so I can see for myself what you're like,” I reply. “Maybe over dinner.”

“You're really stubborn, aren't you?”

“Always at your service, my lady,” I reply with a laugh. “So? Tomorrow night? At seven. I'll pick you up.”

Putting all my eggs in one basket and scheduling our date seems to make the most sense to me. Otherwise, she'll be squirming around for hours or even days.

“Noah!” Cara wants to moan again and I roll my eyes in annoyance. On the other hand, there's no point in forcing her to go on a date. It's important to me that she wants to go out with me as much as I want to go out with her. Unfortunately, that's not the case at all.

“That's okay. You don't want to, I understand,” I give up. “I have to hang up now.”

As if I had summoned him, Alex enters our apartment and quietly greets me. “Alex has come home.”

“Alex?” she asks immediately. “Which Alex?”

“My brother,” I answer, getting up from the couch. I go to Alex in the kitchen, who looks at me with interest. He smiles at me and opens the refrigerator to take out the carton of eggs.

“Your brother?” she asks again.

“Cara,” I mumble and sit down on one of the stools at the counter. Alex looks at me with a grin and takes a pan out of the bottom drawer. “What do you know about me?”

“Not much,” she answers. “Your name, your job, your salary and your bank balance, and the fact that you're harassing me and trying to blackmail me into a date.”

She makes me laugh again. She must know that under normal circumstances I would never consider hiring her as an agent again. Alex raises his eyebrows and pours oil into the hot pan. I wave him off and signal that I'll explain everything to him later.

“That's not much indeed,” I agree with Cara. “And are you sure you don't want to know more? I'm really interesting.”

Alex laughs and I throw an apple at him, but as a running back he catches it easily with one hand.

“Of course you are!” Cara clicks her tongue. “Let me know if you want me to represent you or not. Bye, Noah.”

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