The Player's Baby: An American Football Romance

By Scarlett Press

He wasn’t supposed to find out about his son.

But this football star’s world is rocked by the familiar face he’s confronted with — in both his college girlfriend and the likeness of her little boy.

Ken’s old-fashioned idea of chivalry is for Cleo to marry him right away — but there’s just one problem — there’s a reason Cleo left and never came back.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steamy eReads
• Release date: Apr 22, 2021

Book preview

Scarlett Press Presents

The Player’s Baby

An American Football Romance

Browse Scarlett Press’s Books

Join the Scarlett Press Newsletter for Upcoming Releases

Copyright 2019 Steamy eReads

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One

Ken

With the sound of the city and traffic coming through his windows, Kenneth Ryder dropped his bag on the floor and went through the arduous process of taking off his clothes before getting into the shower. Groaning as the high pressured shower sprayed down his back and massaged his sore muscles, he looked longingly at his bath tub.

After such a day, a good long soak would do wonders for his body. But, shaking his head, he stayed where he was. He didn’t have the time. His body was calling for sleep. If he got in now, there was a high probability he would fall asleep and drown. Smirking, he thought that would be quite the headlines.

Getting out after a quick wash down, he went into his room and tugged on a pair of shorts. Only then did the tension leave his body and he fell onto the bed. His body still ached and cried in pain. It felt like a two ton truck had crashed into him. And that was not far from the truth. He had spent the past few hours being tackled by huge guys.

Being the star wide receiver of the Arizona Ogres, he was often targeted by the best of the opposing team’s defense. Getting tackled by two hundred plus pound men was part and parcel of the job. He didn’t mind that, as he loved the game. And when he managed to get past them — the thrill of that kept him going. When they won, it was the best feeling in the world.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t any consequences.

He had a broken arm back in high school because of landing awkward from a particularly strong tackle. That had taken a long time to heal. It took him even longer to get back in shape and into the field. That wasn’t the worst injury he’d seen, but he’d managed to play through the rest. Some were gory enough that he grimaced just thinking about it.

Usually the after-game party made everything worth it as women would rub against him like a cat in heat. Even though this was frowned upon, some of the team, especially the younger ones, would go to the clubs and party like there was no tomorrow. They would hook up with girls, dance and drink the night away. Then, moving to another club and doing the same thing again. They felt invincible after surviving the pounding that they had — and coming out on top.

This was what he used to do. But now that he was older, having been in the industry for close to seven years, he found himself shying away from that scene. It wasn’t that he no longer partied, but he did that less now. His body just couldn’t handle the intensity of the game on top of going on all-nighter binges with the rookies, needing more time to unwind and recover from the game.

But that wasn’t the reason why he was back at his apartment today. He had plans to go out with some of his teammates that night, but there was something more important he had to do. Reaching for his phone on the bedside table, he unlocked it and went to a profile. This was a profile he had stumbled on when he had been scrolling through his feed in the locker room before the game. And that had made him forget everything about the game.

For most athletes, they all had some rituals they had to go through and superstitions they held onto before the game. Unwashed socks and unshaven beards, included. These things would allow them to get into the right mindset for the game or would bring luck to them during the game. He, himself, would meditate in front of his locker. This was a bid to leave whatever had happened or anything that worried him that day behind and only focus on the game.

On that day, though, he forgot all about that. He found himself scrolling down his feed when he had entered the locker room and happened upon one of those anniversary posts from someone in college. He would usually scroll past them. He only ever cared about sports news. But he found himself stopping this time. And it was because one of the featured people was his ex-girlfriend.

Curiosity had overwhelmed him as he went to her profile and scrolled through. He found that she was not that active on the platform. There was little to no posts from her. But he was still able to see what was happening in her life from photos others had taken with her. One of the things that had gotten his attention, one that had riveted him, was a little boy that appeared often in photos with her.

In the few posts on her feed, this little guy was always the star. She didn’t post any pictures of herself, but this little man would appear without fail. Wondering whether he was a nephew or a relative because of the same coloring, he found a post that made him pause and think.

It wasn’t a recent post. It was posted by her about two years ago. And it said Happy birthday, my little sweetie. It’s been 4 years and Mommy loves you so much. Thank you for being in my life.

Four years.

That meant he was four years old in the photo.

Looking at the year then and now, the kid would be six by now. If he took into account the nine months of pregnancy, it meant that the kid was conceived nearly seven years ago. Seven years ago — when the two of them had been together.

Just as he came to that realization, the sudden sound of a locker closing had reminded him of where he was. He had was in the locker room, preparing for a game. He didn’t have the time to scroll through fucking news feed, no matter what the content. He had had to let it go. The team had to gather and discuss their strategy for the game. Any late comers were a subject of censure with his coach and team manager. Hurrying to get dressed, he returned to joking around and trash talking their opponents with his teammates.

But even as he was there physically, he found that he couldn’t concentrate. His mind was still stuck on the revelation. That had caused him to