Chasing Jillian: A Love and Football Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

of course the other guys at the table were insisting they’d ‘hook him up.’ There was some name-calling, and I had to threaten to wash someone’s mouth out with soap.”
    Jillian heard the telephone ring, and Vivian picked it up.
    Just the thought that the guys were going to “hook up” Seth with anyone else made Jillian want to smash her coffee mug against her desk. He wasn’t a possibility for her by any stretch of the imagination, but she could still dream, couldn’t she?

Chapter Three
    J ILLIAN’S WEEK SPED by after another lunchtime walk with Seth. She’d given him her number during their last walk, and he was going to text her when he could do another. She pretended like giving her number to a guy she was insanely attracted to happened every day of the week, but when she got home from work that night, she danced around her living room with glee.
    The team wasn’t playing until Monday night, which meant Seth was getting ready for the team’s flight to San Francisco today.
    She pulled up to the back door of a warehouse in Seattle on Saturday morning. The warehouse was part of the headquarters of Treehouse, a local charity that helped foster children have a childhood. Jillian had been volunteering with them for many years. She was digging into the pile of kids’ hats and mittens she’d bought a few days ago at Costco. She’d bought as much as she could afford. They’d go great with the five kids’ winter coats she’d bought last month. She made a good salary with the Sharks, but after paying her bills and putting money in savings and donations, there wasn’t a lot of room for frills.
    She kept coming back to Treehouse because she felt needed. After all, she wanted to be like everyone else, and that was tough to do when others found out the thing they took for granted—a loving family—was something completely foreign to her. She did her best to keep her chin up every day, but it was a relief to be anywhere that there were others who had the same problems in life.
    A staff member hurried past the doorway but doubled back when he saw her.
    “Hey, Jillian. You bought more stuff? Do you spend any of your paycheck on yourself?” he joked.
    “I found a sale.” She held up one of the winter coats. “These are great, aren’t they?”
    “They are. I really like the white hat and gloves set with the sparkly pony on the side,” he said.
    “I’m kind of into the pink one with the flowers myself,” she said.
    “Need some help?”
    “Nope, I’m good,” she said.
    He gave her a nod and vanished into the building. Everyone here was busy and sometimes overwhelmed, but they did it because they loved the fact they could make a difference.
    Jillian gathered up her donations in both arms, snagged her purse, and hip-checked her car door to shut it.
    Most single women spent their weekends with friends, dancing at clubs, or out on dates. Jillian’s weekends were typically spent supervising other volunteers or chatting with teens who were ready to age out of the system when they visited headquarters. She did whatever she could to be helpful. Some days were heartbreaking. She knew from experience that one person could make the difference between a teenager who believed his or her life could be different and one who just gave up.
    Her former foster parents weren’t the warmest, but they kept her housed, fed, and clothed. Instead of getting a part-time job when she was in school, they’d urged her to study. Jillian’s excellent grades translated into a scholarship to the University of Washington. It took her almost ten years to pay off her student loans when she graduated with a business degree, but even the ability to make the payments was a cause of pride to her. She’d beaten the odds. She was one of the 3 percent of former foster children who graduated from college.
    She didn’t see her foster parents anymore. She sent them a Christmas card each year, but she didn’t receive any invitations to their