Page 2

N ASH

“Dude. Why you lookin’ so constipated during warmups?”

Declan Anderson is a phenomenal quarterback, but as the youngest active player on the team, he’s damn immature. Granted, when I was twenty-four, I was just as young and stupid.

“One of these days, Coach is going to let me take your ass down, and you’ll regret making fun of us old guys.

” At thirty-two, I’m not old, but in football years, it feels like it.

I’m going on my tenth season with only one Superbowl win under my belt.

Granted, hundreds of guys play longer than I have and have never made a trip to the Bowl, so I’m lucky.

“Only if some other team wants your geriatric ass. Otherwise, not gonna happen, Hump.” Dec throws a spiral sixty yards down the field to Miles Buckingham, who runs it into the end zone and spikes it like he made a game-winning touchdown.

Dec and Buck are the comedians on the team.

Why I hang around them, I haven’t a clue.

I’m the least funny of all the guys on the team.

Must be the opposites attract shit. As a defensive end, the only time I see these clowns is in team meetings and the locker room before a game.

Film and lift sessions are separated by position, or offense and defense.

Even Walker Bankes, our superstar running back, has loosened up since being traded to the Revolutions last year. I’m sure it has everything to do with Riley. Since they married this past winter, he’s been all sunshine and roses and shit.

“How many sacks you aiming for tonight?” Bankes pounds me on the back.

It’s no secret I’m inching toward a record-breaking one-fifty. It wasn’t a goal I had set out with, but the team and media are all over it this season. No pressure.

“As long as we can keep Tampa Bay out of the endzone, I’ll be happy.”

“Modest fucker.”

Ignoring him, I spread my legs and work my quads and hamstrings. After a few rounds of leg stretches, Bankes glances into the stands with a stupid-ass grin on his face. “Riley and the gang are here.”

Like a pussy-whipped motherfucker, he jogs off to his bride and jumps to the railing to give her a kiss.

“Get a room, you two,” Kendall hollers loud enough for the entire stadium to hear, even over the Beastie Boys blaring from the sound system.

How those two are friends, I’ll never understand. While Riley is chill and humble, her best friend is a sex hungry party girl. Proving my point, she sticks her fingers in her mouth and whistles to Buck.

“Looking good out there, Bucky.” She wears his eighty-six jersey with pride like she’s one of his ballers. She probably is. The two of them couldn’t keep their hands off each other at Walker and Riley’s wedding this past winter.

It wasn’t like they were sucking face on the dance floor, but they were dirty dancing and grinding on each other like they weren’t wearing any clothes. Knowing Buck’s reputation, I’m sure the two of them fucked like rabbits in a coat closet. Or hell, behind a tree somewhere.

“My number looks good on you, Kenny.”

She sticks out her chest and shimmies. Next to her, Rowan shakes her head in embarrassment. She’s the normal friend. A pretty nurse who is sweet like Riley.

Walker and Riley invited me to their house plenty of times this summer, but more often than not, I declined. I’m not into the social scene like I used to be.

No big ragers. Not anymore. That was my old life. Not that I’d change what I have now, but sometimes I miss it.

When Walker is done sucking face with his wife, he comes back and finishes his stretches with me. “You coming out to the Whiskey Buckle tonight?”

The bar scene isn’t my favorite, but it’s where the team likes to hang out after a game. Especially a win. It’s low-key as far as the nightlife scene goes. More like a country bar and just far enough outside the city where we don’t get too much of the post-game crowd.

“Maybe.”

“How about this?” Dec comes over and drapes an arm over my shoulder. “You sack the QB, you don’t have to come out. No sacks, you come out and do shots.”

“That’s a stupid ass bet,” Buck says, joining our small circle. “We want Hump to party with us.”

“Aw. You’re so sweet to believe in me.” I tap the side of his helmet.

There’s no reason why I shouldn’t get a sack in. Two of Tampa’s strongest O-linemen are injured, leaving the QB vulnerable.

Kendall whistles again and the four of us glance her way. “Don’t go breaking our hearts,” she belts out as the song plays throughout the stadium.

Fuck. The woman is as sexy as she is annoying. Knowing I won’t have to end the night in her company, I take the bet.

“You’re on, Dec.” I bump the front of my helmet to his and jog to the tunnel.

“FUCKING A.” I STARE at the shot of whiskey Buck ordered for me. “I’ve already had two, and I have to drive home.”

I’m in a piss-ass mood after missing two tackles, both of which would have been sacks. I saved my reputation by batting down three passes and picking off a ball for a pick six, but that didn’t win me out of my bet tonight.

“Kendall can drive you home. She’s our DD tonight.”

I glance over to the dance floor where she and her friends are swaying their hips with their hands in the air. Well, Riley and Rowan sway. Kendall seductively swirls her hips as if dancing with an imaginary lover.

Buck’s jersey slides up, exposing her tan, flat stomach. Jerseys aren’t supposed to show your midriff, but she has the end tied in a knot, purposely putting herself on display.

“Drink up, Hump.” Buck nudges the shot closer to my hand.

Kendall turns and I catch her eyes, so green the Caribbean should be jealous. The corner of her full, pink lip quirks as she gyrates those fucking curves and sings the dirty lyrics to the Eminem song. Buck turns to see who I’m staring at and chuckles.

“She’s a fucking ball of energy, huh?”

“Fucking loud and obnoxious.” I swallow down the shot and spin on the barstool so my back is to the dance floor.

Dec comes over and squeezes my shoulders. “Can I have this dance?”

“Fuck off.”

“Ah. He’s a grouchy pants for losing.”

“I scored more touchdowns than you did, Dick, and I play defense.” Like I need to tell him that.

We won by seven, but that was entirely thanks to Walker running in two touchdowns. The guys talk more smack about the game while I suck down two ice waters. Figuring two hours is penance enough, I swivel on my barstool and make to leave.

“Party pooper leaving already?”

Kendall reaches past me and her breasts brush against my shoulder. I freeze, keeping my gaze forward, resisting the temptation to bury my nose into her bare and sweaty neck. Even after all that dancing, she still smells amazing. Something flowery, which I don’t expect from her.

She takes her time before she moves away. Holding a glass of ice water, she sips it, taking an ice cube between her teeth and crunching down on it.

“Don’t leave us already, Hump.” Buck finishes his beer and sets the empty bottle on the bar.

“Cinderella gonna turn into a pumpkin?” Dec mocks.

I don’t correct him, knowing he said that with the sole purpose of riling me up.

“The carriage turns into a pumpkin, pretty boy. Cinderella turns back into her wonderful, strong, independent self.” Kendall hip checks him.

I don’t correct her that the princess is anything but independent, falling for a man after one dance. Fuck. Love at first sight only happens in ridiculous fairy tales, and life is anything but.

“Don’t let her drink if she’s driving your ugly asses.” I stand and say bye to my teammates. It’s not that I don’t trust Kendall not to drink, it’s that I don’t trust her. Period.

She’s the epitome of a party girl. Agreeing to be Buck and Dec’s DD just for notoriety. I wouldn’t put it past them to have a threesome later. My dick doesn’t even harden at the idea.

Been there. Done that.

Never.

Fucking.

Again.

Not that I regret the outcome, but hell. Just fuck no.

“Excuse me?” Kendall crosses her arms, which only serves to push her tits to her neck.

I avert my eyes. Hell, I completely ignore her.

“Douchebag. I’m talking to you.”

I tilt my head and snap my eyes to her. If she wasn’t best friends with Riley, I’d tell the bouncer to kick her ass out of the bar.

“If you feel the need to drink any more, be honest about it. I don’t want my team, my friends, to suffer because of your–”

“Fuck. You.” She jabs her finger in my chest. “Fuck you and the rod stuck so fucking far up your ass.”

“Easy now, children.” Buck drapes his right arm over Kendall and his left over my shoulders. “Let’s all get along like good boys and girls.”

“Call me if you need a ride.” I push his arm off and storm out of the bar.

It’s not until I’m a few miles down the road that I start to calm down. I shouldn’t let her rile me up like she does. It’s not my fault. It’s those curves of hers. And that mouth. Not the trash talking sailor that she is, but her full, pink lips.

And her fucking eyes. Kendall is a fucking walking wet dream, and it pisses me the hell off. I don’t even care that Miles Buckingham claimed her first. Even if he hadn’t, she’s the exact opposite of my type.

I tell that to my dick every time we see her, but he has yet to get the memo.

And that pisses me the fuck off more than Kendall and her perfect tits.