“Will—uh—will your parents be there?” We’ve never discussed his parents aside from his brief mention of them during our walk to the stadium together, but I know they’re a substantial part of the enigma that is Adler Beck. He had towering expectations placed on him due to the fact that they were both successful players in their own right. Beck’s career would have been followed closely based on nothing but his last name and his parentage, even if he’d been nothing more than a mediocre competitor, but he managed to smash those already high hopes at just sixteen when he became eligible to play for Germany’s national team. He’s not only beloved by his home country but revered around the world for his skill on the pitch.

Normally, the chance to meet two successful professional players is one I would jump at, but they’re not just retired footballers. They’re Beck’s—the guy I’ve been consistently sleeping with—parents. I’ve never met a guy’s parents before. And it’s mostly the fact that I want to, that I’m curious about something beyond Beck’s skill on the pitch and moves in the bedroom, that’s got warning signals singing out in my head.

Beck’s oblivious to my spinning thoughts. “At their house? Yes, I think so.”

I choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Won’t it be weird?”

He shrugs. “Doubt it. I’ve brought plenty of girls over before.”

Other women would probably wilt in response to that sentence, but it prompts a rush of relief for me. Being nothing more than one in a line of many is exactly what I want to be when it comes to Adler Beck. It washes away any reservations I had.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply. “I’m guessing attire is casual?” I ask, nodding to his own outfit.

“Wear whatever you want,” Beck replies in the indifferent tone most men have when it comes to fashion.

“Well, I only have one outfit, so it shouldn’t be too hard of a choice,” I respond with a roll of my eyes, hopping off the bed to retrieve the shorts and top Beck dropped in a heap next to his hamper after yanking them off. At least it’s one of my cuter workout outfits, a matching tank top and shorts in a shade of light turquoise that draws out some of the blue in my eyes. Plus, I took a cab here, planning to run later, so it’s not even sweaty.

I get dressed and then follow Beck out of his apartment into the hallway, although apartment is a bit of a misnomer. The square footage is probably double that of the house I grew up in. Beck’s door is the only one in the hallway. He has the top floor all to himself.