Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | (The New York Nighthawks #1) Sacked |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Fiona Davenport |
| Language: | English |
| ISBN/ ASIN: | B0B1G4C5Q2 |
| Book Information: | |
Prentice Wright was one of the best quarterbacks in the league. He was known for making all the right moves on the field. It was how he led the New York Nighthawks to victory so often. Falling for his teammate’s sister wasn’t a smart play. Especially when Naomi Scott was more than a decade younger than him. But Prentice was also known for being relentless in the pursuit of his goals…and he’d never wanted anything more than to make Naomi his. | |
| Books in Series: | The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport |
| Books by Author: | Fiona Davenport |
1
Naomi
I’d been to plenty of football games in my eighteen years, but watching my brother play for the New York Nighthawks was something else. I was so proud of what Nixon had accomplished. Getting drafted into the NFL had been his goal ever since he played his first game of flag football when he was five. I’d heard the story time and time again from my parents since I had been too young to remember. My brother was a little more than four years older than me, so I’d only been a baby back then.
When the game clock ticked off the final seconds of the second quarter with Nixon’s team ahead by a touchdown and a field goal, I jumped to my feet to cheer along with everyone surrounding me. My seat was much better than I’d expected—one of the best in the stadium, club level right at the fifty-yard line.
Nixon was just a rookie, but his head coach had arranged for my ticket when my brother had told him I was coming to the game today. His wife, Sally, was seated next to me, and she patted my hand. “I’m so glad you could make it to today’s game.”
I beamed a smile at her. “Thanks for inviting me to sit with you.”
She waved off my gratitude. “Your first game was the perfect excuse for me to be out here instead of in the suite with local business executives who’d want to talk my ear off instead of letting me enjoy the game.”
One of the women in the row behind us leaned forward and said, “And as the head coach’s wife, it’s kind of her job to take all of us football wives and girlfriends under her wing.”
“Oh, I’m just here to watch my brother play,” I explained, my cheeks heating over her assumption that I was with one of the players when I’d never even been on a real date before.
“Want to come with me? I need to hit up the walking taco stand.” Sally flashed me an apologetic grin as she slid out of her seat and stepped into the aisle. “It’s a tradition.”
“Say no more. I know all about football superstitions. Nixon has plenty game day rituals.” I laughed and shook my head as I followed her up the steps. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to sit through The Waterboy because he has to watch it the night before every game. It’s been a tradition ever since he was in the eighth grade.”
“That’s okay. I have to get up early and bake a batch of homemade oatmeal cranberry chocolate chip cookies for Keith before he heads to the stadium for every home game,” she shared. “His mom was happy to pass that ritual over to me back in college when we started dating.”
I licked my lips. “They sound delicious.”
“I’ll bring you some next time,” she promised.
“Thanks.”
When we reached the top of the steps, she hooked her arm through mine to lead me through the crowd. “Your brother mentioned that you’re staying with him while you’re taking a gap year?”
“Yeah, my parents weren’t too excited about me deferring my college acceptance for a year, but Nixon was really supportive of the decision. So when he suggested that I come out here, it sounded like the perfect plan to me,” I explained.
“From some of the stories Nixon has told, it sounded as though they’re a bit overprotective?” she asked.
“You can say that again,” I muttered with a sigh. “The only reason my dad was okay with me living in New York was because I’m staying with Nixon. Even if I’d decided to go to NYU this year, he wouldn’t have been okay with me living in the dorm.”
“Parents can be a lot.” She winked at me. “Or at least that’s what my kids used to tell me before they got married and had children of their own.”
I shook my head with a laugh. “I’m sure you weren’t that bad.”
“You only say that because I’m not your mom,” she pointed out. “Perspective is everything.”
“You might be right,” I conceded with a smile.
“At least your parents can’t complain too much about you slacking off since you’ll be keeping busy by helping Nixon with his social media accounts.”
I nodded. “Yup, I did a communications program at the high school I attended and got a lot of practice with creating graphics. And since I was part of the arts and literature magazine publicity team, I also got plenty of experience at posting to social. So it seemed like a great way to pay my brother back for letting me stay with him.”
“Managing his social media presence will be a huge help,” Sally agreed. “With the work you’ve done for your school, you’ve already learned the benefit of being strategic when you post. Used wisely, social media can bring more awareness to Nixon as a player, but a lot of the younger guys don’t do a great job of leveraging their accounts. They use it more as a way to communicate with jersey chasers than anything else.”