All In: Paying to Play (Gambling With Love) Read Online Free PDF Page B

“You don’t know a goddamn thing about me, you spoiled bitch, so don't you ever say another fucking word about my family!”
    When she flinches away I realize I’ve managed to scare her. She thinks I’m gonna hit her or some shit and now she’s afraid of me.
    Fuck.
    If she’s not infuriating me she’s making me feel guilty. I am so sick of this woman and she hasn’t even been here but for two damn days!
    “I’m sorry,” she says, all soft and sweet, catching me completely off guard. That only pisses me off even more. I’d rather she yell at me. Looking in her golden apologetic eyes is too much. “I didn’t know they were such a sensitive subject…”
    “Oh quit your psychobabble bullshit and stay the hell away from me!” I yell, but then I’m the one that walks away, stumbling to my room. I just want to pass the fuck out without having nightmares about the shit the bitch just nailed me with harder than a three-hundred pound defensive lineman.
    …
    Addison
    After my third cup of coffee, and in between morning clients, I pull up the search engine on the laptop in my office. Seeing Jake suddenly go ballistic last night has me wondering why he was so defensive about his family. I put his name into Google to see what I can dig up.
    His bio starts off by stating that he was an All-American quarterback on his high school team, which was how he got recruited to Ohio State on a full athletic scholarship. His freshman year, the football team went through all of their wide-receivers due to injuries or suspensions, so they pulled him from the bench. He excelled in the position, breaking NCAA records for most receptions and touchdowns, helping the Buckeyes salvage the rest of their season with enough wins to get them into a bowl game. Okay, so none of that is surprising. Of course it’s no secret he’d have to be an extraordinary player to even make it to the pros, much less a starting position.
    I keep reading and see that he was born and raised in a rural town just outside of Danville, Virginia, which isn’t that far from Charlotte. If his family still lives there then it’d be easy for them to make the drive on Sundays to watch his games.
    It only takes one more sentence for me to feel like a gigantic bitch. Both of Jake’s parents died in a car crash three years ago. During the first season Jake signed with the Wildcats, his mom and dad were on their way back from his away game in Atlanta when they were hit head on in Greenville, South Carolina by a drunk driver. The impact killed them instantly.
    Oh God. I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been on him and his brothers to not just lose one parent but both at the same time. And then last night when we’d been yelling at each other I’d stupidly mentioned them, having no idea that he’d lost them. I’m a horrible person. As a psychiatrist, hell as an adult , I should know better than to hurl insults at people, especially so carelessly at someone I don’t know a damn thing about. And he’d called me to drive him home because he'd been drinking, but I’d refused.
    I’m distracted the rest of the day, my guilt gnawing on my stomach like a burning ulcer. So I do the only thing I can think of to try and make up for my atrocious behavior. I decide to cook dinner for Jake. I’m not the best cook in the world, but my mother has taught me a few things over the years.
    After I burn up everything edible in his kitchen, I get in my car and drive to Maria ’s to pick up a premade, home cooked meal. Ten minutes later, mustard and dill crusted salmon with a side of horseradish mashed potatoes and vegetable medley are on the table ready to be eaten. I wait an hour for him to come home, but at eight o’clock I give up and re-box everything before putting it away in the refrigerator.
    Trying not to, I can’t help but wonder where he is and what he’s up to. It’s not like I’d rat him out if he was with another woman, even if the thought does bother me for