Page 29 of Good Girl’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #4)

“So we ended up texting and talking all week. Then last night, he asked if I wanted to meet up with him and some of his teammates. I was a little nervous, obviously, especially when he said they were going to a karaoke bar. But then he said I could bring Mia, so I agreed. Things were fine until Jonathan showed up, and then…yeah. The rest, I’m pretty sure the whole world saw. ”

“Wow,” Stella says with a shake of her head. “I feel like that was quite a whirlwind.”

“The best things are,” I say, putting my arm around Ainsley for a little emphasis. It clearly works with Stella and Quinn. But I still can’t crack Maeve or Simon.

“That’s all well and good, but this makes zero sense.

” Maeve focuses on Ainsley, who I don’t think is breathing.

She must be the family lie detector. “I mean, I know it’s not like you were in some sort of recovery program, but in all the years I’ve known you, there’s not been one time where you’ve even wanted a drink.

And suddenly last night you’re drinking, singing—which might’ve been more shocking than the drinking—and have a pro football player boyfriend.

I’m sorry, it just all feels like a lot. And it doesn’t feel like you.”

I start to reply, suddenly getting the feeling like I did last night when Dr. Dipshit was berating her. I don’t know why I have this overwhelming urge to protect Ainsley, but I do.

“Maeve’s right, Ainsley,” Simon says. “You could’ve put yourself in a dangerous situation. You aren’t used to?—”

“She’s a grown woman,” I interrupt, because they need a reality check.

All of the siblings eyes turn to me, which is good.

“She wanted to blow off some steam. She was in a safe place with me, Mia, and ten other professional football players, who weren’t going to let a thing happen to her.

Despite the night of debauchery you think you saw, we had fun.

She had fun. So maybe back off a little, considering you guys just blew in here and bombarded her after a very stressful morning of processing the consequences of dating someone like me. ”

It’s silence for a few seconds, including Ainsley, who out of the corner of my eye I can tell is slack-jawed.

This is also how I know that I have no clue how to be a boyfriend, because I’m pretty sure you don’t tell your girlfriend’s siblings basically to fuck off after knowing them for twenty minutes.

“Well, damn,” Quinn says, breaking the silence. “Ainsley’s got a live one.”

“She does,” I say. “This wasn’t the way we wanted to tell people. Things got out of control last night, and for that, I do apologize. But your sister is a grown woman and one of the most responsible people I’ve ever met. She can make her own decisions. And we’re in this now. Together.”

I look over to Ainsley, who’s smile about knocks me out of the chair. It’s the same smile she gave me when I saved her from Dipshit. It’s the same smile she gave me so many times last night, thanking me but without saying the words.

And it’s a smile that I need to make sure I don’t let break through to my heart. Because if I did, I’m pretty sure it would ruin me.

Or worse, ruin her.

“Okay then,” Simon says, pinning his eyes to me. “But I do need to ask you one question.”

I’ve been waiting for this. If this guy went to Tennessee, then he follows SEC football. Which means he likely knows about my history: What I did in college. Why I didn’t get drafted. Why it took me years to land with a team. And frankly, if he didn’t ask, I’d be questioning his big brother status.

“Understandable.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Fire away.”

“I have two,” he says, clasping his hands in front of him. “You can clearly see that we love our sister, and we’re very protective of her. So I need to know, what are your intentions with our Ainsley?”

“Oh mylanta,” Ainsley says with a groan. But I just smile. Somehow, this answer is the easiest one I’ll have to answer all day.

“I want to take it slow, see where this goes,” I say before looking over to her. “This week has been fast and crazy. I want to slow down a bit and continue getting to know her. And hopefully, she keeps me around for a while.”

There. A committed answer that a boyfriend would give while also giving us an out for when the time comes that we call this quits.

“I can accept that,” Simon says. “Now, most importantly, I know your history, which is why I need to know…”

I suck in a breath as I brace myself for the uncomfortable questions.

“Are you guys going back to the big game this year?” he asks, shocking me, and I think the rest of the table.

“I just need to know if I should put money down on the early odds. Also, are you starting? Or is that insider trading? Because if I can put down an early line for you to lead in receiving yards this year for a tight end…well, that could be a pretty payday here in a few months.”

“Simon!” Ainsley yells. “Are you seriously asking my boyfriend for gambling advice?”

He shakes his head. “No, because that’s against the rules that Linc here has to abide by.

But, this guy won me a shit-ton of money last year.

” He turns his eyes to me, the scowl that he wore before now gone and is replaced with more of a fan-boy look.

“That catch? Gave me the over for the game and hit on a parlay that won me five grand. Clearly I need to know what the team is looking like, and since my inside man retired a few years ago, I now need to use the resources I have in front of me.”

“Um, we’re looking good?” I say, still confused. “Also, inside man?”

“Did my sister not tell you? Wes Taylor, former tight end? He’s one of my best friends.”

Now it’s my turn to fan boy. “Are you serious? The guy who’s position I now play? He’s one of my fucking idols!”

“Do you want to meet him?” Simon pulls out his phone. “I can call him right now.”

We start talking as Simon dials a number before I hear a squawk of irritation from next to me.

“Can you two stop?” Ainsley snaps, taking everyone by surprise.

“Actually, can this be done? I’m very hungover, and since I’ve only been hungover one other time in my life, this is really the worst. I’d like to go home and sleep and not wake up until tomorrow.

So can we adjourn whatever this has turned into? ”

I’m guessing that no one is used to Ainsley yelling like that, so the siblings quickly gather their things and I hustle up front to pay for our meals. We all say our goodbyes—Simon hugs me and promises to arrange a lunch with Wes—and even Maeve doesn’t scowl at me before getting in her car.

All and all, not the worst it could’ve gone.

“Step one, done,” Ainsley says as we wait for a car to come pick her up. “Do you think they believed us?”

I bring her in for a side hug as we start walking back toward my apartment. “One hundred percent.”