ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: Mister Perfect: (Alpha Male Billionaire Football Star and BBW Pregnancy Romance)(A Best Friend's Brother Contemporary New Adult Sports Romantic Secret Baby Romance) by Evanna Stone
Authors: Evanna Stone
Tags: mr perfect, perfectly imperfect perfected perfection perfect match, romantic sports comedy, mister romantic, new adult bad boy romance, bad boyfriend, bbw football romance
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Chapter One: The Kickoff
"Thanks for inviting me for Christmas dinner," Amber said, giving her friend a squeeze. "You're the best. But I won't be coming."
"Not you too," Freda said, sitting hard on the bench and dropping her bags in disappointment.
"That's my best friend and my only brother standing me up for Christmas. If I didn't know what a shut-in you were, I'd say that you two were off doing something behind my back."
Amber loved her friend, but as a girl she had once said that she would have done anything for a date with
her older brother, Taylor, and Freda had never let her forget it. Taylor was a football-playing superstar now and if he'd ever known that Amber had existed, he'd forgotten all about her by now.
She'd been girlish then. She hadn't been straight up and down, but she'd had no curves to
speak of and didn't stand out in her crowd. She'd only just started having periods and Taylor didn't acknowledge her at all. While he'd been away studying and then getting his first offers to play football
professionally, Amber had filled out. That lonely little girl had developed a voluptuous figure and now when she walked into a room - or sat with one shapely leg crossed over the other, waiting with her best friend for a train
- she turned heads.
There were always men coveting her and she dated from time to time, but none of them matched up to her
perfect image of Taylor Bolton - tall, dark-haired, eloquent and getting more and more handsome with every year.
It didn't help that there were pictures of him all over the city.
"It's kind of you," Amber told Freda, "but I can't accept sympathy invites."
"Sorry for you? Oh, please," Freda said. "There are plenty of people I feel sorry for and
who deserve it. My son's schoolteacher. The guy who does my mum's feet. And that poor guy over there."
Freda was pointing at a billboard on the far side of the train platform, beyond the dusty tracks. The
poster was dominated by a good-looking football player in an expensive suit that looked so good it must have been made for his athletic body. The image was frozen as he was getting out of a black sports car. His steely gaze
suggested that he had important things on his mind, which was probably true enough, and he certainly wasn't looking where he was going and might have been about to step out into oncoming traffic. Most eyes were drawn to
the chunky silver watch with dials all over its face, blown up extra large at the edge of the poster, but Amber just gazed at his face, this real person with whom she'd shared an imaginary love.
Freda had described it as a childhood crush, but it was really much more than that. As the men on the
platform were observing, she was a woman now, and if anything she felt more for him now than she had years ago.
There was something wonderfully unattainable about him. Even if he weren't busy being a megastar,
he was Freda's brother and really dating him would have been taboo. He was on the other side of the US and, since he wasn't coming back for Christmas, he obviously liked it out there. He may as well have been on another
planet, in so many ways, an inhospitable planet surrounded by flashing cameras and contract extensions.
"It's a ridiculous but beautiful poster," Amber said, "but why feel sorry for him?"
"Because he's lost," Freda said. "He doesn't need a watch. He needs a compass.
His face is all over the city, because it's his hometown, but he doesn't seem to remember that. He can't find his way home. He's obviously got everything he needs out there."
"Is he seeing anyone?" Amber
"Thanks for inviting me for Christmas dinner," Amber said, giving her friend a squeeze. "You're the best. But I won't be coming."
"Not you too," Freda said, sitting hard on the bench and dropping her bags in disappointment.
"That's my best friend and my only brother standing me up for Christmas. If I didn't know what a shut-in you were, I'd say that you two were off doing something behind my back."
Amber loved her friend, but as a girl she had once said that she would have done anything for a date with
her older brother, Taylor, and Freda had never let her forget it. Taylor was a football-playing superstar now and if he'd ever known that Amber had existed, he'd forgotten all about her by now.
She'd been girlish then. She hadn't been straight up and down, but she'd had no curves to
speak of and didn't stand out in her crowd. She'd only just started having periods and Taylor didn't acknowledge her at all. While he'd been away studying and then getting his first offers to play football
professionally, Amber had filled out. That lonely little girl had developed a voluptuous figure and now when she walked into a room - or sat with one shapely leg crossed over the other, waiting with her best friend for a train
- she turned heads.
There were always men coveting her and she dated from time to time, but none of them matched up to her
perfect image of Taylor Bolton - tall, dark-haired, eloquent and getting more and more handsome with every year.
It didn't help that there were pictures of him all over the city.
"It's kind of you," Amber told Freda, "but I can't accept sympathy invites."
"Sorry for you? Oh, please," Freda said. "There are plenty of people I feel sorry for and
who deserve it. My son's schoolteacher. The guy who does my mum's feet. And that poor guy over there."
Freda was pointing at a billboard on the far side of the train platform, beyond the dusty tracks. The
poster was dominated by a good-looking football player in an expensive suit that looked so good it must have been made for his athletic body. The image was frozen as he was getting out of a black sports car. His steely gaze
suggested that he had important things on his mind, which was probably true enough, and he certainly wasn't looking where he was going and might have been about to step out into oncoming traffic. Most eyes were drawn to
the chunky silver watch with dials all over its face, blown up extra large at the edge of the poster, but Amber just gazed at his face, this real person with whom she'd shared an imaginary love.
Freda had described it as a childhood crush, but it was really much more than that. As the men on the
platform were observing, she was a woman now, and if anything she felt more for him now than she had years ago.
There was something wonderfully unattainable about him. Even if he weren't busy being a megastar,
he was Freda's brother and really dating him would have been taboo. He was on the other side of the US and, since he wasn't coming back for Christmas, he obviously liked it out there. He may as well have been on another
planet, in so many ways, an inhospitable planet surrounded by flashing cameras and contract extensions.
"It's a ridiculous but beautiful poster," Amber said, "but why feel sorry for him?"
"Because he's lost," Freda said. "He doesn't need a watch. He needs a compass.
His face is all over the city, because it's his hometown, but he doesn't seem to remember that. He can't find his way home. He's obviously got everything he needs out there."
"Is he seeing anyone?" Amber
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