Line of Scrimmage by Desiree Holt Page B

window for a long time, thinking about her situation, sipping her coffee. She really hoped this worked out, because the salary would put her in a good place until she got another job. Maybe she could even start her own business as a personal trainer. She was about to make another cup of coffee for herself and sit down to review the information Ivy had given her when she heard a crash from the direction of the master bedroom. She nearly dropped her mug.
    “Ivy?” The shout reverberated through the house.
    Oh, hell. What a way to start the day.
    She put her cup on the counter and hurried down the hall.
    “Ivy?” The roar came again.
    “Ivy has left already,” Erin said, pushing open the door to the master suite. “But I’m here. I’m—”
    She stopped, shock freezing her in place.
    “Jake?”
    “Erin?”
    Erin was sure her heart would stop beating. There, sitting on the edge of the bed in all his nearly naked glory, was Jake Russell. Her hot, hot one-night stand. The man she had literally pushed out of her life before he could do the same to her.
    Oh. My. God.
    Jake’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck?”
    Erin finally unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “My words exactly. Holy crap!” She pointed a finger at him. “You’re not Russ Jacobs.”
    He glared at her. “And you’re not Anne Hardy.”
    They stared at each other for a long moment, and Erin realized now what people meant by a deafening silence.
    “No wonder Ivy used false names.” She could hardly contain her anger. “She set this whole thing up for God knows whatever reason.”
    “I’m going to kill her,” Jake said at last, clenching his one good fist. “I will absolutely fucking kill her.”
    “Not if I get to her first,” Erin snapped. “I thought she was my friend.”
    In a flash, everything from her night with Jake zipped through her mind, including the angry words they’d exchanged the next morning. Okay, so she’d prompted those words, but history had given her a damn good reason to do so. She knew all about football players, from high school jocks to the overpaid pros, including the one who’d ripped her heart out, stomped on it, and then run over it for good measure.
    The thought of Trace McKay called up way too much pain. Deliberately she banished any trace of him from her mind. She’d spent too much time letting him live there after the big disaster. Now she tended to look at all football players through the same lens. The fact that Jake was Ivy’s brother didn’t mean his scruples were any different than any of the other jocks she knew. She’d done what she had to, protecting herself…and her heart. She’d just been looking out for her welfare. Since then, she’d managed to stay out of his way.
    Damn Ivy! She’d maneuvered this whole thing in her cute little way. Erin could not stay here. Not even for one more minute. This was an impossible situation.
    “What are—what do you—” Her brain wouldn’t form sentences. “What are you doing in bed?” Now there was a stupid question. Ivy had told her he was injured. She just hadn’t expected—what? What had she expected?
    “What the hell does it look like? I fucking broke my leg.”
    “But what—but how—” God, she was turning into a blithering idiot. She couldn’t reconcile the big, formidable athlete with this man wearing a cast on his leg and his wrist. “I thought you were playing football?” Oh, there was a brilliant statement.
    “In case you aren’t aware of it, they don’t let you on the field with a full leg cast.” His tone was laced with bitterness.
    “Of course, of course,” she said quickly. And still she stared, somehow unable to take it in.
    “Well?” Jake’s angry voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you going to stand there all day or can you come and help me? As long as you’re still here, how about making yourself useful?”
    “Help you?” She frowned. “Make myself useful? Doing what, for God’s sake?” The