Triple Score Read Online Free PDF Page A

season.”
    “Sources, my ass.” No doubt Hafler’s barracuda of an agent had floated that rumor, trying to up his client’s ante in the free-agent market in the off season. Jace threw the remote down, stalked over to the television and turned it off. “The only way that little pissant’s gonna steal my job is over my dead body.”
    Jace snatched his cell off the nightstand. He needed some air and to have a good, long talk with his own worthless agent. He had a few questions that needed answering—like why the hell was he hearing this shit on ESPN and not from the guy he paid to protect his career.
    He pulled open the door, already hitting his agent’s speed dial, and almost plowed into Noelle.
    “Bad time?” She stood with her fist raised to knock on the door he’d flung open. He found himself hoping she’d drop her palm on his chest, let its heat scorch through the well-worn cotton of his favorite T-shirt, right over the word guy in I’m the Guy Your Mother Warned You About. Instead, it fell to her side, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “Again? I thought the third time was supposed to be the charm.”
    He pressed the end-call button, stuck the phone in his back pocket and leaned against the door frame. “No PT. No sex toys. Just me, about to go for a walk.”
    “Can I join you?” The way she moistened her lips told him she was nervous, although it didn’t shed any light on why. But that didn’t stop his dick from twitching as her tongue darted out again. “I’m not exactly up to warp speed, but the doctors say I need to start moving around more now that I’ve lost the crutches.”
    He stuffed a hand in the pocket of his jeans, hoping to hide what was sure to be a monster erection if he didn’t get the damn thing under control, and fast. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be good company.”
    “Bad company’s better than no company. And everybody else in this place is either still going through puberty or over sixty.”
    “Meaning?” His eyes narrowed.
    “Meaning I’m going stir-crazy, and I need someone to share these with.” She produced a tin from behind her back.
    “What’s in there?”
    She jiggled the tin and the contents rattled. “Contraband.”
    He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Drugs? Laundered money? An AK-47?”
    “Better.” She cracked the lid and held the tin under his nose. He smelled almonds and something he thought was coconut. “My mom’s homemade macaroons. Strictly off-limits under the rehab diet. I was hoping they’d convince you to give me another shot at apologizing.”
    “Apology accepted.” He pushed off the door frame, closing the door behind him. His agent could wait. He wasn’t about to turn down a beautiful blonde, especially one bearing baked goods. “Come on. I know the perfect spot to enjoy them undetected.”
    She snapped the lid of the tin shut and followed him down the hall toward the reception area. He slowed, shortening his steps so she could keep up with him.
    “Hold it right there.” The nurse manning the main desk abandoned her post and jumped in front of them, one hand outstretched like a traffic cop or a member of the Supremes. “Where do you two think you’re going?”
    “Easy, Nurse Ratched.” Jace softened the jab with his never-fail-to-charm-their-pants-off smile—if you didn’t count Noelle—and snaked an arm around the ballerina’s waist. “We’re only going for a walk.”
    Noelle not-so-subtly elbowed him in the ribs.
    “It’s okay, Connie. Now that I’m off crutches, the doctors want me to work the kinks out of this thing.” She tapped the brace covering her knee. “I promise we won’t go far.”
    “Stay on the grounds.” Connie let them pass.
    “Thanks, doll,” Jace called over his shoulder as he steered Noelle to the exit. “Don’t wait up.”
    “Nice try,” Connie hollered back. “But if you’re not back by curfew, I’m calling in the search dogs.”
    “Great. I love dogs.” The