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Narrated by: Marcio Catalano & Kirsten Leigh
The Way We Play
Genre:
Release Date: October 7, 2024
He’s a grumpy, retired kicker who says he only breaks things. I’m a thirty-year-old virgin with something he can break (and I don’t mean my heart)…
How does one get to be a thirty-year-old virgin?
In my case, start with being risk-averse and cautious, focused on building your career, then inherit your 12-year-old, special-needs brother. Done!
Zane Bradford appeared at the perfect time.
He takes my brother to equine therapy, he gives me rides to work, and he rescues me when I collapse in the shower. (Yes, he saw me naked.)
He says he only breaks things, but I only see him fixing everything. Heck, his job is as a repair man.
This grumpy, angry god with lean muscles, silky dark hair, and ice blue eyes has taken himself out of the game.
But massage therapy is my job, and I’m ready to play.
Rachel Wells is ruining everything.
She walks into my workplace and argues with me, talks back, defends herself.
She gives me romance books to “improve my mood,” and insists on massage therapy to ease my pain.
Chronic pain isn’t my problem—she is, with her bright green eyes and sassy attitude.
Then she tells me she’s never been kissed. (What’s wrong with the men in Birmingham?)
The more she tempts me, the more I feel my resolve weakening.
She wants to play, but I’m not going to break.
(THE WAY WE PLAY is a small-town, grumpy-sunshine, sports romance with close proximity, enemies-to-lovers vibes, and a virgin FMC, and an over-protective alpha hero. No cheating. No cliffhanger. No third-act breakup.)
Reaching up, she slides her finger along the spine of an Emily Dickinson novel. “I used to dream of having a boyfriend like Mr. Darcy.”
“Instead, you had boyfriends like…” The words jump out unbidden.
Why am I asking her about past boyfriends? More importantly, why do I feel like I’m hanging off the edge of a cliff waiting for her answer?
“None.” She shrugs as she says it, and her chin drops to her chest. “I’ve never had a serious boyfriend.”
I don’t know how to name the satisfied feeling that flashes in my chest. It’s primal, possessive. It’s new.
“What’s wrong with the guys in Birmingham?” I mean to say it as a joke, but I’m not joking.
She only shrugs, chewing her lip. “They don’t like weird little brothers hanging around all the time.”
I’ve got to get a grip on this. Rachel’s love life is not my business. Clearing my throat, I take a step down the passage, away from the pull of her gravity.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry. You’ve got plenty of time.” The words are bitter on my tongue.
I hate them. I don’t want her out there looking for someone. I want to put my hands on her and claim her. I want to make it clear she’s mine.
Mine.
What?
“Gran always said that, but I’m almost thirty.” She huffs a laugh. “I thought I would’ve at least kissed someone by now.”
F***k. Me.
“You’ve never been kissed?” I move towards her.
Her eyes squeeze shut, and she puts both hands over her face. “I know. It’s so humiliating. You must think I’m a total loser.”
“I don’t. I just…” Shaking my head, I look at her. “How is that possible?”
“I mean…” She pffts air through her lips. “It’s possible. Just look at me.”
What does she mean? Is she trying to say she’s a dork? She has no game?
“I am looking at you.” A woman as sexy and beautiful as Rachel doesn’t need game, and being a dork just makes her cuter.
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