Page 5 of Faking it With the Player Next Door

“Can I bother you for a picture?” She practically bounced, and I sighed.

This was one of the things I didn’t care for when it came to having notoriety. During the regular season I didn’t mind it too much, but when I was in the off-season and trying to enjoy life, I seemed to be bothered by these interruptions no matter how beautiful the women may be.

“Sure, I can take a picture,” I replied, and a split second later, she was bending down, chest in my face, and holding up her cell phone.

She leaned her head into mine, and when I inhaled, I could smell a floral scent, and for some reason it reminded me of Taylor.

“Smile!” The waitress exclaimed, and before my lips turned up, she took a picture. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” I blinked and glanced at Hunter, who had a silly smirk on his face. “What?” I narrowed my eyes, and he nodded behind me.

“Looks as if you got quite a local fan base.”

Turning around, I saw about a half dozen people standing behind me with grins on their faces, and their cell phones pointed towards me.

“It’s him,” one guy nudged another man standing beside him.

“No,” his friend shook his head. “Hey!” He called to me.

“Yeah?”

“Are you Van Willis?”

“He is,” Hunter replied before I had a chance to, and I whipped my head to glare at him.

He knew how much I despised these run-ins with fans, and he was just goading me on. Call it friendly teasing. Call it being a jerk. Either way, that was typical of Hunter.

Chapter Three

Taylor

Pacing from the living room to the kitchen, repeatedly peeking out the windows as I passed, I wondered where Van had gone on his motorcycle. My ears were perked, listening for the roar of the engine to come, and when it still hadn’t, I was becoming antsy.

For some unknown reason, Van always caused me to lose my sense of time, myself, and functioning. Having a quick glimpse of Van an hour ago, and I hadn’t been able to function since.

“What the heck,” I mumbled, and strode into the kitchen.

Opening the refrigerator, I realized I still hadn’t gone to the grocery store. Wishing there was a delivery service, I sighed. I didn’t want to leave the house yet, in case Van returned, but I needed food more than another glimpse at my childhood crush.

I walked back into the living room and climbed the stairs to the second floor, where all three bedrooms were located in the house. Turning into my childhood bedroom, I picked up my suitcase from the floor and flopped it onto the bed.

Rummaging through my clothes, I grabbed a pair of faded denim shorts, a light pink tank top, and a clean Bandeau bra. I figured I’d take a quick rinse off shower, get dressed and do the dreaded trip to the other side of town to Coleman’s little grocery store.

I’d get the necessities until I had a chance to drive an hour away to a larger store to stock the pantry. I had a list I wrote while sitting out on the front porch, and I figured if I saw anything special at Hanover’s Grocers, I could always pick it up.

I had no date in mind to return to my position at the therapy office, and luckily, I was a good saver. I had a nice savings account and could go for almost a year without having a job. Not that I was planning on not having a job for a year, but it was nice to know I could if needed.

Fifteen minutes later, my shower done and dressed for the day, I headed downstairs to grab my phone, keys, and purse. Just as I opened the front door, I screamed.

Standing on the front porch, opening the screen door was Hunter.

“My goodness, Hunter,” I held a hand to my chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I could be asking you the same question,” he frowned, and sidestepped me, entering the foyer.

“Oh, yeah,” I winced. “About that…”

“Did Travis do something?”

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