Page 32 of Reckless Storm (San Francisco End Game #3)

Reed

T homas passes the ball back to me and I fake a throw before taking off in a run, heading for my opponent at full force, showing him I mean business. I dodge left and when he strikes, I change direction, rolling past his body, using the impact to propel me forward.

I’m so focused on the play that the crowd around me ceases to exist, but just knowing they’re here, knowing they’re screaming my name, has me pushing myself to the limits, powering my legs to avoid another strike, diving into the end zone as someone’s arms wrap around my legs.

The whistle blows and my teammates cry out, most of them running forward to dive on top of me, flattening me into the turf.

“Hell fucking yes.” Rhett’s the first to speak. “You are on fire today. Whatever you're doing or whoever you’re doing, don’t ever stop.”

I snort as he helps me up. But while I’m waving off his comment like it’s ridiculous, my mind wanders to Hayley. Exactly where it shouldn’t be going partway through a game.

Fuck if I can get that kiss and the rest of our night out of my head. I’ve only seen her once since New Year’s Eve, but we’ve spoken daily, and every time my thoughts drift into unsafe waters, I reel them back in.

Like now.

I’ve always prided myself on my focus, and today is not the day to give up on that.

After we kick the extra point, the first half ends and we run off the field in high spirits. Even if we lose our final game of the season today—which we won’t—we’re still sitting pretty in the top spot of our conference, guaranteeing us a place in the divisional round of the playoffs.

I hate to get ahead of myself, like some of my teammates do, but I’m feeling good. We’re here for back-to-back Super Bowl wins. Our time to shine isn’t over yet.

We kick ass again in the second half, securing the win by twenty points, obnoxiously cheering as we enter the locker rooms. But as we each spot Wes Johnson, decked out in a suit—looking very GM-like—silence ensues.

“Fuuuck.” Luke’s the first to break the tension when he’s one of the last guys through the door. “So the rumors are true.” He does a slow clap while most of the guys stare in shock.

It’s hard to say if it was speculation, or if someone had insider information, but for the past week, whispers have surrounded us about another change in the management team, just as Thomas predicted.

And since Wes is here, it’s safe to say we’ve lost another GM.

“Wes, my man.” Luke walks over, offering him a fist bump as Wes shakes his head, giving him nothing in return. I’d laugh if we weren’t surrounded by various reporters ready to throw us to the wolves again.

I can see it now… “What’s going on in the Storm camp? It can’t be one big happy family if they’ve lost another GM so quickly.”

Let’s hope Wes is here to stay. If that’s why he’s here. He may just be filling in for the interim.

Keeley gets our attention as D’Angelo steps up onto one of the bench seats, giving us a wave.

“We fucking did it,” he begins, hitting us with a smile, starting off on a positive note.

I grimace internally. If it were me, I’d have started with the bad news, but I’m not in his position, so I smile wide, trying to give him the excitement he’s seeking.

“We’re top of our conference,” he continues.

“Ahead of the pack. You’re all making me look good, and honestly, I don’t even have to try.

But…” He trails off. “Since we just had another fantastic win after a phenomenal season, and you’re all looking at me like I killed your cat, I’m going to get straight to the point.

“I’m not going to pretend you’re naive. You know what’s going on.

I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors. So, I’m giving it to you straight.

Miles Stanford was politely asked to leave after it became apparent he didn’t share the same values as the rest of us.

At our last charity event, I spoke about wanting us to be true leaders, to be a team our fans could be proud of, and though you may not have seen it, Miles was not on the same page.

But… I come bearing incredible news because we’ve secured someone who is.

He’s a man of great integrity, a man that’s proven himself on and off the field, and today, he steps forward as our new general manager.

He’s coming back to the place he once called home.

Everyone, please join me in giving a huge Storm welcome, or welcome back, to former tight end champion, Wes Johnson. ”

Now the team roars like never before. We should have had Wes from the start.

While some of us, including me, haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him, the excitement is still very real. He had an incredible career before his injury and went on to coach the D1 Heartwood University team before most recently becoming their GM. This role makes perfect sense for him.

And God, I hope he sticks around.

Wes joins D’Angelo beside the bench, and they shake hands before Wes steps up, offering a shy smile.

“I’ll make this short because you’re all in desperate need of a shower.

I want you to know that I didn’t come to this decision lightly.

In fact, I rejected the position the first time around because I wasn’t sure it was right for you, myself, or my family.

But after long chats with my brother-in-law, Dylan—who I think you may know—and Carter over there, I was politely persuaded.

” He pauses for the laughter before continuing on.

“Together, Dylan and Carter sat me down and spoke to me from the view of the team. As your voice. They reminded me what it’s like to be a player, and how hard you’ve all had it while being forced to live up to your full potential.

All while facing the criticisms and controversy behind the scenes.

“I hadn’t allowed myself to think like that before.

I’d been a player, sure, but that was so long ago that I’d put that part of myself behind me.

Until your teammates, along with my beautiful wife and children, reminded me of the guy I once was.

Of the guy who would have done anything for his team.

This is my team. And I’m here to tell you, the player is now fresh in my mind.

I’m here for each and every one of you. And I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.

Not unless you force me out. So…since I said I’d be short and I’ve been rambling for what feels like a lifetime, I’m going to hand the floor over to somebody else.

And if you need me…my door’s always open. Thank you.”

He jumps down, passing the mic over to Keeley while the media erupt with questions.

“What really happened to Miles Stanford?

“Is this the last of the Storm controversy?”

“Is the Storm in financial trouble?”

Keeley fields the questions while we all peel off to shower and change.

Most of the guys pretend they’re not paying attention to the media, when it’s obvious we’re all listening in.

The thought of financial trouble never once crossed my mind, but now that I’m thinking it, it’s possible. But what does that mean?

When we’re finally released after our media commitments—which lasted a hell of a lot longer than usual—I’m a mix of emotions as I exit the locker room, but when Hayley runs toward me, launching herself into my arms, all that changes.

“Holy shit, Reed.” She wraps her legs around me as I secure her in my hold, and hits me with her infectious smile.

“You were amazing. I mean, you’re great in most of your games, but today. My God. I’m not going to lie. It was hot.”

I shake my head, a low chuckle rumbling from my chest. “I don’t know, Hayls. Something was different about tonight. Something felt right.”

“Whatever it was, you killed it out there.” She bounces in my arms, the movement rubbing against my cock, and I lift her higher as it pulses, smiling to hide my pain.

Hayley raves about my touchdown leading into halftime while my mind drifts to her chest, noticing her attire for the first time.

“Are you wearing my jersey?” I bite back a groan as an unwanted visual works its way to the forefront of my mind.

Hayley smiles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “ Technically , I’m wearing a team jersey. I don’t have one with your name on the back.”

“Well, we have to change that.” This is something I have to see.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah. You’re mine.”

The word “mine” slips easily from my lips and while I follow it with a wink, my chest tightens with a new warmth I haven’t felt before. What the fuck is that about?

Ignoring my feelings, I smile at Hayley, spinning her around as she laughs, drinking in her happiness, squeezing her ass when she wriggles against me.

Shaking my head, I glance up and find Bria standing a few feet behind us, her eyes locked on my hands, her expression pained until she notices me watching her, her frown morphing into a proud grin.

“Bria’s here?” I question, whispering into Hayley’s ear, my face in her hair as confusion sets in.

“I know.” Hayley pulls back, her eyes full of something I can’t quite decipher, while her smile remains in place. “I had the pleasure of running into her on my way up to the suites. There are thousands of people here, and yet, of course I managed to find her.”

“You knew she was coming?”

“No, but I knew if she ever came, I didn’t want to run into her.” Her adorable grimace makes me smile.

“Completely understandable.” After our New Year’s Eve chat, Bria messaged me to say I should be careful with Hayley.

That I should make sure she’s serious before falling in love with her.

It was the reaction that deep down, I knew was coming.

But it didn’t fill me with hope like I thought it would; instead it broke my heart.

Because while I’d love to believe she was looking out for me as a friend, she didn’t bother getting to know Hayley before making that assessment and I always believed she was better than that.

“Did you talk?” I ask, hoping like hell that Bria was nice to her.

“We exchanged pleasantries. She doesn’t like me.”

I cringe, though I don’t think she’s wrong. “Everybody likes you.” I smile comically until Hayley laughs.

“ Not your bestie.”

“Her loss, not yours.”

Hayley wriggles to get out of my hold, rubbing against me again, and I dig my fingers into her ass, locking her in place just above my hardening cock.

“Are you holding me hostage?” she asks, her interest piqued as she smirks.

“Only for another minute.”

“And why’s that? For Bria?”

I wish. “Nope.” I wince, regretting our promise to always be honest with each other.

“When you wriggled just now, my cock decided to rise to attention, assuming your pussy had come out to play.”

Hayley’s eyes bulge and I can tell she wants to look down, but she holds strong, her gaze locked on mine.

“Lost for words?” I ask, loving the fact that I could elicit a surprised reaction out of her, even if it was at my own expense.

“A little bit. Where did that come from?”

“What?”

“The openness. The dirty talk. Was that a joke or…”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I cock an eyebrow and she pouts.

“Obviously.” She shakes her head like I’m crazy, and I smile with a shrug. “Ugh, fine,” she relents. “Either way, I like it. Let me know when I can get down.”

I glance away, locking eyes with Luke as he gives me a thumbs-up. And seeing his obnoxious face helps calm things down until I’m no longer hard. “I’m good now.” I release Hayley. “Thanks for your patience. It won’t happen again.”

Hayley lets out a squeal as I lower her slowly, dropping her feet to the ground, careful not to wriggle this time. “Only you would apologize because a girl turned you on.”

“Only me.” I wink again, and as she shakes her head, I draw in a quick breath, preparing myself to see Bria, only then thinking about the fact that it’s been years since she attended a game. She’s always been too busy. But now that she's here, I’m not as excited as I thought I would be.

“I’m sorry, Hayley, I should—”

“Go. You need to talk to her. It’s going to drive you crazy if you don’t find out exactly how she feels.”

“Thanks. But you’ll be here when I’m done, right?” The thought of her disappearing makes me not want to leave.

“Yep. I’ll be here. I owe Juliet a cuddle, and I’m sure Amelia and Luke will welcome the chance to have a moment alone.”

Hayley presses a kiss to my cheek before mouthing “good luck” and skipping away to find Amelia. I watch for a minute as Juliet reaches for Hayley, instantly snuggling into her chest, and then I gather my inner strength, heading over to my best friend. The woman who currently feels like a stranger.