Just Rules Read Online Free PDF Page A

table cloth. It took him a second to grasp what she wanted and when he did, he realized that his body refused to react. Shit, he was more tired than he thought, and if the blonde kept moving her hand toward the inner part of his thighs, it wouldn’t take her long to realize she wasn’t going to get a reaction out of him. That was a disgrace he wasn’t willing to deal with that night.
    “A toast,” he said, grabbing his glass while he stood up. “To the Giants, the fucking bastards who stole our Super Bowl.”
    Tim looked at him and raised an eyebrow, and Mac shrugged his shoulders and looked at Kelly out of the corner of his eye.
    “To the Giants, a bunch of fucking assholes,” echoed Tim. And suddenly the rest of the people at the table and in the dining area followed. Kelly did as well, leaving her no choice but to move her hand from Mac’s inner thigh.
    He breathed a sigh of relief, although it didn’t last long because he noticed that Steel Pants was killing him with her look. Why? And why the hell couldn’t he breathe suddenly? Damn it. Susan and everyone else could fuck off. Literally.
    Mac stood up and went to the bathroom to cool off a bit. That night really was testing his patience, and if Molly, sorry, Kelly, followed him, he wasn’t going to be responsible for what he might say to her.
    He went inside the men’s bathroom and thanked God for the few seconds of alone time. He splashed water on his face and on the back of his neck. He turned the faucet off and leaned on the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. He had terrible bags under his eyes, and the wound on his eyebrow was a horrible color that looked like it was getting infected. He should have let them sew it up on the field. He touched it softly with two fingertips and winced in pain. Yep, it was infected. Great. He clenched his jaw and realized that it was shaking a bit. He was really messed up. He had lost the Super Bowl, the last one of his career. He didn’t know if they were going to renew his contract. Worse yet, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep playing. A striking blonde had left him completely indifferent, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that his best friend’s fiance had a freckle.
    He turned the faucet on again and splashed some more water on his face. He let the drops of water run down his skin that suddenly burned and waited for the sound of the water escaping down the drain to relax him. It didn’t work at all, and sooner or later someone would come looking for him. He shook his head and turned off the faucet. Then he stood up straight and dried his hands on a towel.
    He had to leave.
    He tossed the towel in the basket and backed away from the sink. Refusing to look at his reflection, he walked toward the door.
    He took a couple breaths, opened the door, and ran into the last person he would have ever imagined.
    Why?
    Susan was standing against the wall in the hallway, not hiding the fact that she was waiting for him.
    “Are you OK, MacMurray?”
    No, and don’t ask me why. Stay here close to me so that I can breathe.
    What was he thinking!
    “Wow, I must look worse than I thought if even Steel Pants is worried about me,” he answered sarcastically.
    Susan clenched her jaw but didn’t allow herself be intimidated.
    “You barely ate anything, and you’re drinking as if there was no tomorrow,” she said. “You haven’t even tried the chocolate cake.”
    “I’m not hungry,” he responded, putting his hands in his pockets. “Shouldn’t you be looking after Tinman?”
    “Tim is fine. You don’t seem to be. You should go home and sleep a little.” She moved closer to him and put a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up.”
    Mac’s lungs suddenly stopped working and his throat closed up on him. Fever? Judging by his body’s reaction, he was about to have a heart attack. He could feel Susan’s hand burning his forehead, her necklace rubbing against his shirt. How was it possible? He backed