Escorting the Player (The Escort Collection Book 3) by Leigh James Page A

said.
    "Jess didn't cook for you?" I asked.
    He snorted. " Hell no. Actually, the last year we were together, I think she pretty much stopped eating."
    "Why?" I couldn't imagine not eating on purpose.
    "Because she was worried about getting fat. And bitches be crazy," he said. He looked up at me. "Present company excluded, of course."
    "Oh, of course." I'm just your escort, who you said you didn't want to sleep with, that keeps making you sleep with her. Not crazy at all.
    "What's she like?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. "Besides crazy?"
    He shrugged. I noticed he'd gotten some sun today; his burnished, copper-color skin look like it was lit from within. "She was a pain in the ass. As soon as we got married, she showed her true colors. She's only out for herself."
    "Ugh. I'm sorry." I sprinkled some mozzarella on the bread and Chase watched me with interest. "But why did you…" I wasn't sure how to phrase the next part without being too insulting or invasive. Why did you stay with her? Why did you wait for her to leave you?
    "Stay married?" he asked. His eyes flicked down to his wine. "It's embarrassing."
    "You can tell me," I offered. "It's not like we really need to keep secrets from each other. You know I'm a hooker and I know you were desperate enough to hire a hooker."
    He laughed and shook his head. "When you put it that way… I guess I can speak freely."
    "I think so," I said. "But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
    His eyes met mine. "I didn't leave Jess because I didn't want to deal with it. I just wanted to get through this season. That's all I wanted to focus on. Not personal shit."
    I nodded. "I get it."
    He looked mildly surprised. "You do?"
    "Sure." I put the bread into the oven and turned it onto broil. Chase's fancy oven had seemed like an alien spaceship to me at first, but I'd managed to figure it out. "You're the best quarterback in the NFL. Ever. I can't imagine you can get to a level like that without pushing almost everything else to the side. And your wife turned out to be someone different than you thought. Can't blame you for that—she's the one who was pretending. It's not like you can anticipate that someone's gonna let you down like that."
    A deep V had formed on his forehead as he listened to me. "Huh."
    I cringed, worrying that I'd either said too much or just said the wrong thing. I busied myself tossing the salad. "Is that an annoyed 'huh' or…a good 'huh'?"
    "It's a good 'huh'," Chase said. "I think you might be on to something. For a long time, I thought I deserved what I was getting with Jess. Because I'd misread her."
    "Sort of like a penalty?" I asked.
    He nodded. "Exactly. I messed up and I was paying for it."
    "You misjudged her," I said. "I don't think it's worth beating yourself up over. You've been penalized. Resume regular play."
    "Football talk, huh? Are you trying to charm me?"
    I shrugged. "Only if I'm actually doing it right."
    "It was close enough that I understood." He inspected his wine for a moment.
    "You seem okay about her being gone," I ventured, "and mostly okay about her being with Pax. Aside from the nuisance factor."
    "He got to me at practice. I shouldn't have gone after him like that, but he pushed my buttons hard." Chase scrubbed his hands across his face. "But since then, it's just been a couple of nasty texts from Jess and those selfies on Instagram. That's not worth freaking out over. But we'll see what they pull next. Jess usually has plans."
    I nodded. "But at least you're out in front of it. I'm sure she doesn't like that one bit—that you've been photographed out and about, and that you're getting more attention." I'd read the news online; the sports community was largely condemning Jess and Pax, but they seemed to be enjoying Chase's post-split lifestyle. The mom we'd met at the swan boats had made the nicest Facebook post about meeting us and posted an adorable picture of Chase with the boys; it'd been shared about ten