Read Dirty Baller: A Secret Baby Sports Romance for Free Online

throat and pulls out a pen and a pad of paper. “When did you start playing football?”
    I laugh. “You’re serious. I thought you were joking about this being a business meetup. But you’re dead bloody serious right now, aren’t you?”
    She nods. “I have a story to write, and not a lot of weeks to write it in.”
    “Do you want kids?” I ask her.
    She looks taken aback. “Excuse me?”
    “For every answer I give you, you have to give me an answer. I thought I’d start with a big one.”
    “You don’t like to ease into things slowly, do you?” she asks me.
    I lean forward and whisper conspiratorially. “After last night, you of all people should know that I don’t ease into things.”
    Hayley turns crimson and sips primly from her glass of liquor. “I do want kids. Some day. One day. Not now.”
    I guffaw. “Well, I wasn’t asking you if you wanted one now .” I raise my eyebrows. “Though if you wanted to go upstairs and practice, I’m your man.”
    Hayley’s face is so red I feel like smoke is about to start pouring out of her ears. “New topic. When did you start playing football?”
    “Back garden at the council house where I lived with my mum. Used to kick a football against my neighbor’s garden wall. Drove her crazy. I did it anyway.”
    When Hayley takes notes, she scribbles with her tongue between her lips. It’s adorable. “And when did you start playing professionally?”
    I shake my head. “Nope. My turn. Why are you so shy?”
    She bites her lip, contemplating. “My older sister is really outgoing and she sort of hogs the spotlight.” She pauses. “You would like her. You’d both get along great.”
    “I think I like this Childs sister the best, actually,” I reply. At this point it’s basically a game I’m playing: how many shades of red can Hayley’s face turn? I slam down the rest of my drink. “I’m bored with this. Let’s go do something.”
    “I’m not having sex with you.”
    “I know that.” I stand up and throw money on the table. “Let’s do something else.”
    “Like what?” she asks.
    I stand up and hold out my hand. “We’re in London. I’m sure we’ll find something good.”
    Thirty minutes later, we’re walking down the banks of the Thames, the museum district lit up all around us.
    “Do you want kids?” Hayley asks me.
    I guffaw. “I don’t think it’s your turn to ask questions.”
    “It actually is my turn,” Hayley says. “And we had an agreement.”
    “No, I don’t want kids,” I say to her firmly. I keep part of my response to myself. I don’t want to tell her that I’d be a terrible father. Let her think I’m just some asshole twenty-four-year-old playboy who just can’t be tamed.
    I see Hayley eyeing a kebap cart.
    “You hungry?”
    She licks her lips instinctively. “I could eat.”
    I reach into my pocket and pull out two ten pound notes. “Two lamb and two Cokes,” I say to the bearded man at the cart.
    “Coming right up,” he says. He deftly maneuvers a long knife to shave off bits of the lamb turning on a metal spit. He looks over at Hayley and winks. “You two have been together awhile, right?”
    Hayley looks at me, panicking and biting her lip. Blush rises in her face. “Oh, we’re not together.”
    The man places the meat inside of a warm pita, topping it with lettuce, tomato, and a drizzle of yogurt. He hands Hayley her kebap wrapped in wax paper.
    “You think you’re not together. But this one over here?” He nods at me. “He’s a chaser. You better watch out. I know these things.” He pounds his chest. “It’s instinct.”
    Hayley is speechless as I hand over the money and take my kebap and two icy drinks.
    We wander over to a bench overlooking the Thames. The Tate Modern is lit up across the way. “That’s my favorite museum,” I say to her.
    “Really? I didn’t take you for a modern art fan.”
    “Have you been there?”
    Hayley wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “I