Page 10 of Punked By the Playmaker
Using a fingertip, I typed in the address of the first house I planned to show him. At this rate, I prayed it wasthe onebecause I wasn’t sure how long I could bear to be in such close proximity with the man before I combusted; he was that scorching hot.
Levi shifted the car into gear, following the turn-by-turn directions that came through the speakers. It would take about thirty minutes to reach our destination.
Long, awkward silences were hell on my anxiety, so I made sure to drum up small talk during the drive.
“You came from the East Coast, right?”
The man at my side grunted. “Connecticut.”
“Brrrrrr.” I shivered dramatically. “Sounds cold.”
His eyes slid in my direction, a spark of amusement in their brown depths. “Are you gonna tell me you’re one of those West Coast girls who’s never seen snow in real life?”
A smile tugged onto my lips as I raised one hand. “Guilty as charged.”
“Adorable,” he mused, shaking his head. “I was fortunate enough to get to experience that wintery precipitation during my days of youth travel hockey, so I didn’t make a complete fool of myself during my first winter in New England. Though I will say, learning to drive in it was a real bitch.”
My ears perked up. “Wait, are you a California native?”
“LA born and raised,” he confirmed. “But far enough inland that we didn’t get to the beach as much as I would have liked.”
His preference for location made sense now. “That’s why you want oceanside.”
A snap of his fingers rang out inside the cabin. “You got it. I like the idea of being able to swim out any time I want to catch a wave on my board.”
“Sounds liberating,” I breathed out.
Levi smirked. “That’s the whole idea.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the Pacific Ocean to our left as we drove north. “Out there, it’s just you and the sea. Nothing else matters.”
Maybe I needed to take up surfing. God only knew how badly I could use a moment of peace.
We pulled up to a gatehouse, where I gave my ID to the attendant, who cross-referenced it with the name he’d been given by the listing agent before returning my license and granting us entry to the luxury community.
As we drove through the gates, I pointed out the amenities included in the monthly HOA fee—tennis courts, a private golf course, a fitness center, and a clubhouse with on-site dining. And if all that weren’t enough, the stunning view of the Pacific couldn’t be beat.
If money were no object, this was exactly where I’d want to live.
In a perfect world, Levi would put pen to paper on an offer today.
The car rolled to a stop in front of the first listing I planned to show him.
Ready to sell the shit out of it, I brightened my voice.
“You are just gonnalovethis one.”
Chapter 4
Arizona
Ididn’tsellLeviNixon a house that first day, or the second, or the third, or even the fifteenth.
For a guy who claimed to be happy as long as he had an ocean view, he was picky as hell. He had managed to find something wrong with every one of the thirty-one properties I’d shown him over the past three weeks, citing the issue as being a dealbreaker.
It wasn’t all that surprising that he turned his nose up at the more recent homes we’d toured because I’d purposely front-loaded his home search with sprawling mansions in exclusive neighborhoods. The ones that followed felt anticlimactic by comparison.
But maybe I was wrong about what he was truly looking for. Maybe he didn’t care about things like a home theater or a private wine cellar. Maybe the confirmed bachelor wanted something cozy, so he felt less alone.
Maybe, just fucking maybe, house number thirty-two would be the winner.
