Read Online Someone Like You by Jennifer Gracen - Free Book Online Page A

up your time? If you wanna get laid, just ask her out!”
    â€œShut up. It’s not like that,” Pierce said, but couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. His old friend knew him too well. “But, while we’re talking about her . . . do you know her? Abby McCord?”
    â€œNo,” Troy said. “Even though I grew up in Edgewater, I went to an all-boys Catholic school, then some fancy-ass private high school, remember?”
    Pierce chuckled. “Yeah. Heard about that school. Bunch of snotty assholes.”
    â€œThe worst.” Troy let out a low laugh. “C’mon, man. Tell me the truth. Is this really about having something to do to fill up some of your time? Doing a good deed? Or is it about getting into Abby McCord’s pants?”
    â€œAs attractive as Abby is, I’ve been on a break from women for a while,” Pierce replied, his voice sobering. “She’s tempting, but that’s not it. Actually following a good impulse here.” He gulped down some water.
    â€œAh. Okay.” Troy was one of the only ones who knew the whole story of the mess in England, and had backed Pierce unequivocally. “It’s good that you’re doing that. Coaching the kids, I mean.”
    Bubbles came prancing in, yipping happily at Pierce and dancing around his bare feet. He crouched down to pet her as he said into the phone, “Wanna get some beers one night this week?”
    â€œSure. I’ll get back to you on what night,” Troy said.
    After the call ended, Pierce went upstairs to take a shower. When he got back to his room, he saw the light on his cell flashing for voice mail. Securing the towel around his waist, he listened to the message.
    â€œHey, Harrison. It’s Toomey.” Pierce recognized the Cockney accent of his former teammate immediately. “Heard you went back to the States. Can’t say I blame you, really, but . . . so . . . just wanted to wish you luck. Don’t be a stranger. Cheers, mate.”
    Pierce tossed the phone onto the mattress and stretched out on the bed. Interesting. Most of his former teammates had all but ostracized him once the scandal broke and things got sticky. He didn’t think any of them would even notice he’d left London, much less care. Though, to be fair, Rick Toomey had been one of the only ones who’d believed his side of the story, not the Huntsmans’.
    The thought of them made his stomach churn, even now. James Huntsman was a seriously malicious prick. He and his equally scheming wife could rot in hell. All he could do was hope they’d both get what they truly deserved someday, somehow.
    Breathing deeply, Pierce stared at the ornate ceiling fan, watching the slow, quiet circles of the blades for a few minutes. He knew he had to let it all go, and he knew damn well he hadn’t yet. How could he? His career was over. He hadn’t gotten to decide when to retire; Huntsman’s blackmail had decided it for him. The anger still burned over the injustice of it all....
    With a surly grunt, he pushed up off the bed and went to the dresser. He slammed the drawers shut, irritation flowing through him now.
    Toomey had believed him. Most of his teammates—some of whom he’d considered real friends—hadn’t. That still stung too. That betrayal . . . he didn’t know if he’d ever get past it completely. He understood why they didn’t publicly take his side, but they hadn’t even believed his side. That had cut deep.
    He needed something positive to counteract that, to start digging himself out of the black hole the scandal had tossed him into. Sofia’s idea may have seemed ridiculous at another time, but right now, coaching kids’ soccer was a good distraction. Something to make him feel good again . . . both about the sport, and about himself.
    * * *
    It was a clear evening, and still pretty warm for the end of September. The park was close enough