Page 1 of Tight Spot

PROLOGUE

DAWSON

Few people had the code to my house and the ability to get through security at the front of my neighborhood in Brentwood. Considering I lived in a neighborhood with several of my teammates, the doorbell ringing as I got out of the shower made me think it could have been one of them.

Except I hadn’t invited anyone over, and everyone knew never to show up unannounced.

I bought a ridiculous eight thousand square foot home when I only needed a tenth of the space to live in because I liked being alone, and space gave me peace. It wasn’t even the house, but the two acres of land that gave me privacy and room to not feel enclosed.

I wrapped the towel around my body, tucked it in at my hip, and was heading down the stairs when my phone buzzed in my hand and the doorbell ringing turned to a furious pounding. Fucking hell. They’d shatter the glass at this point.

My sister’s name flashed on my phone with an incoming call. Mystery solved.

“Damn it.”

The day I gave her the code and the go-ahead with security at the front gate to always be allowed entrance was only one of my mistakes when it came to her. I made a mental note to fix that as soon as I could kick her out this time.

“I’m coming, damn it!” I shouted loud enough so she’d hear outside.

The call ended, and the pounding stopped.

My hair was dripping. Water was rolling down my back and chest. I white-knuckled my grip on my towel.

If Crystal was here, shit was about to get ugly, and I did not need this, or her antics, in my life right before my team was headed out of town for one of our most important games of the season.

She came with baggage, both the literal and figurative type.

She was visible through the glass door, a set of Gucci luggage piled around her.

I dropped my head to my chest, stared at the marble flooring, and braced myself.

Gucci luggage was an upgrade which meant she’d blown through whatever money I already gave her and any sugar daddy dumb enough to trust her.

Awesome.

“What are you doing here?” I was blocking the doorway, leaning against the frame with my fisted hand at my towel and holding the door open.

She shoved right into me. I was forced to reach for her to steady myself or step back if I didn’t want the towel to fall and have my sister see all of me.

“Happy New Year to you, too, Dawsy.” She lifted her sunglasses off her eyes and gave me a quick scan. “You should probably get dressed before you answer the door. Can you get my luggage? They’re kind of heavy.” She was halfway to the kitchen as she asked.

“Can I get dressed first?” I muttered and closed the door.

She didn’t answer.

Re-securing my towel, I found her exactly where I figured she’d be. In the wine fridge, perusing the bottles and wrinkling her nose at each one.

“Do you have anything nicer?”

I drank red wine on occasion but never needed anything more than a fifty-dollar bottle of wine to be satisfied.

My sister, somehow, believed anything under a hundred was beneath her.

“No, Crystal. I don’t have nicer wine on hand in case you show up on my doorstep with enough luggage for a month. What are you doing here?”

She scrunched up her nose at a bottle of chardonnay, but it must have been good enough for the moment because she grabbed the electric opener on the counter. “Lorenzo kicked me out of my apartment.”

The apartment he probably paid for until his wife found out he had some mistress and lost her shit on both her husband and Crystal. It wasn’t the first time.

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