Page 40

A STORM OF SHAKESPEARIAN PROPORTIONS

FLYNN

T he LA sun hit different.

I’d been to California before, bowl games, family vacations when we were kids, but something about stepping off the plane at LAX as a potential Bandits draft pick made the sunshine feel more significant. Like it was spotlighting possibilities.

“Not bad,” Gryff said beside me, sunglasses already on, rolling his shoulders like he owned the place. “Could get used to this.”

Dad grunted noncommittally, but I caught his slight smile. He was impressed too. Hard not to be with palm trees swaying against a perfect blue sky. Well, mostly perfect. Some clouds hovered on the distant horizon, but they didn’t diminish the golden California glow.

“Coach Kingman, gentleman.” A man in a crisp suit approached, Bandits logo pin gleaming on his lapel. “I’m Marcus Wilson, player relations for the Bandits. Welcome to Los Angeles. ”

“Thank you for having us,” Dad said, shaking his hand with the firm grip he’d taught all of us.

Marcus smiled, all perfect white teeth. “The dynamic duo. We’ve been watching you. Very impressive college careers, gentleman.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I resisted the urge to check it immediately, maintaining eye contact with Marcus as we exchanged pleasantries. But the moment he turned to lead us toward the exit, I glanced down.

Tempest: Have you landed yet? Can’t wait to see you.

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.

“Something more interesting than the Bandits’ welcome wagon?” Dad’s voice was low but knowing.

I pocketed my phone. “Just Tempest wanting to know if we landed safely.”

Dad nodded, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Good. You should make plans to see her while we’re here. Better to have that settled so you can focus when you need to. The Bandits are putting on the whole dog and pony show for you boys.”

Gryff threw an arm around my shoulder. “Kingmans can handle a girl and football at the same time. The boys have proven that this last season.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, elbowing him as Marcus led us to a sleek black SUV with tinted windows.

As we pulled away from the curb, Marcus launched into his pitch.

“The Bandits are building something special. New coaching staff, state-of-the-art facilities, and a quarterback who needs protection.” He glanced at us in the rearview mirror.

“Having both Kingman brothers as the foundation of our defense on both sides for the next decade? That’s the kind of dynasty move that wins championships. ”

A decade in LA. The words settled in my chest, heavy with significance. I gazed out the window at the passing cityscape, at the endless stretch of possibility.

With these few minutes in the car, I texted Tempest back quickly.

Me: Just met our Bandits liaison. Very slick. Hotel looks amazing, but I’d rather be wherever you are.

I hit send before I could overthink it, then looked up to find us pulling into the circular drive of an upscale hotel near the stadium.

From our vantage point, I could see the Pacific stretching toward the horizon, though those distant clouds seemed a bit darker now, creeping steadily closer to shore.

“Home for the next few days, gentlemen,” Marcus announced as the valet opened our doors. “Dinner in a few hours. Tomorrow, we show you the future.”

The Bandits’ training facility was nothing short of spectacular. A gleaming monument to modern sports science, it made our college facilities look like a high school weight room. Everything from the recovery pools to the film room screamed elite-level commitment.

“This is where the magic happens,” Coach Rivera, the Bandits’ defensive coordinator, spread his arms wide as we entered the main practice field. “State-of-the-art everything. Best training staff in the league. And soon,” he pointed at us, “two Kingman anchors for our future plans.”

A row of lockers stood against one wall, temporary nameplates already in place. F. KINGMAN and G. KINGMAN side by side, just like always.

“Visualize it,” Rivera said. “We want you to see yourselves here.”

I ran my fingers across the nameplate. It felt real. Tangible. The culmination of everything I’d worked for since I was five years old tossing a football with Dad in the backyard.

“This,” he said, pressing play, “is where you come in.”

For the next hour, I lost myself in football talk, schemes, stunts, blitz packages. It was all fascinating, all exactly what I’d dreamed about. But part of me kept drifting to thoughts of Tempest. I was here to make plans for my future, but that also meant planning our evening together.

Because with every passing minute, I knew without a doubt I wanted her to be a part of it.

“You want to do some sightseeing or have some fun off the field while you’re here?” Rivera asked.

I definitely wanted to have some fun off the field. “Sir?”

“Focus, son.” He laughed. “I asked if you’re planning to enjoy LA while you’re here.”

“I, uh,” I hesitated. “A friend is in town too, so just some dinner plans.”

“Lady friend?” Rivera grinned knowingly at Dad. “Beautiful city for romance, LA.”

Dad nodded, surprising me with his casual acknowledgment. “I want the boys to be able to make the most of their time here, all aspects of it, so they can really see if they want to spend the next ten years here.”

“Well, we definitely want you to have fun while you’re here too,” Rivera clapped me on the shoulder. “Tomorrow we really put you through your paces.”

“Yes, sir,” I nodded, already counting the minutes until I got to see Tempest.

“Still thinking of Denver?” Gryff asked quietly as we headed back to the car.

I hesitated. “I’m thinking about the best opportunity.”

“This is it, bro.” He gestured around us. “This is everything we’ve worked for.”

I wasn’t ready to think about whether everything I’d worked for was still what I wanted.

A couple of hours later, I’d met some of the biggest players in the League both physically and as players that I looked up to. Tomorrow we were scheduled to meet the owner. The Bandits were really rolling out the red carpet for us.

But tonight, we had the evening free. Neither Gryff nor Dad said a word when I flew out of the hotel to meet up with Tempest. Finally.

I spotted her immediately. A bright spot of color against the increasingly gray sky, waiting at the entrance to the beach path where we’d agreed to meet. The sight of her made my heart go all wobbly, warm and dangerously close to the emotional territory I usually avoided.

But not anymore. Not with Tempest.

“Hey,” I called, jogging the last few steps.

Tempest turned, her smile breaking across her face like sunshine. She wore a flowing sundress that accentuated her curves, her wild curls whipping slightly in the growing breeze. “Hey yourself.”

Without thinking, I pulled her into a hug, lifting her slightly off her feet. She laughed, and the sound did dangerous things to my heart rate.

“How’s your break been so far?” I asked, setting her down but keeping my arms loosely around her waist.

“Amazing.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Better than I could have hoped. How’s everything going with the Bandits?”

“Impressive,” I admitted, taking her hand as we started walking along the path toward the beach. “The facilities are insane. Gryff’s trying to be cool about it, but I can tell he’s impressed too.”

We reached the sand, both of us kicking off our shoes. The beach was emptier than I’d expected, especially for a nice evening, though a few determined couples and families still lounged on colorful blankets or splashed in the waves.

“Those clouds are moving in fast,” Tempest noted, looking toward the horizon where the dark mass had grown significantly since morning. “Maybe we should have picked an indoor activity.”

“A little water never hurt anyone,” I grinned, pulling her toward the waves. “Come on, live dangerously.”

She hesitated only a moment before laughing and running with me toward the water’s edge. The surf crashed around our ankles, cold and shocking against the warm evening air. Tempest shrieked as a larger wave splashed higher than expected, soaking the hem of her dress.

“You trying to get me all wet?” she teased, eyes sparkling.

“Baby, I haven’t even started. You’re going to be soaked,” I challenged, reaching out to grab her up.

But she laughed and sprinted away. “Gotta catch me first, Kingman.”

What followed was utterly ridiculous, and more fun than I’d ever had with any woman before. The two of us chased each other through the shallow surf, splashing and laughing like children. She let me catch her eventually, breathless and beautiful with droplets of seawater on her skin.

“You’re mine now, Navarro,” I said softly, tucking a wet curl behind her ear.

Something shifted in her eyes then, vulnerability replacing playfulness. “Maybe I am. Maybe you’re mine. What are you going to do about it?”

The moment hung between us, weighted with possibility. I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing the curve of her cheeks. “First, I’m going to kiss you. Because it’s all I’ve been thinking about for days.”

She smiled at that, a soft, shy thing that made my chest ache. “And then?”

“Then,” I said, lowering my head until our lips were a breath apart, “I’m going to figure out how to make this work, even if I end up in LA and you’re still in Denver.”

Her eyes widened slightly, surprise and something like hope flickering in their depths. “You’ve been thinking about that? ”

“I’ve been thinking about nothing else,” I admitted, the confession easier in the fading light with the sound of waves crashing around us.

In the distance, thunder rumbled, but I barely registered it as our lips finally met.

This was a real kiss, deep and searching, her arms winding around my neck as I pulled her closer.

She tasted like salt and sweetness, like everything I hadn’t known I was looking for, hadn’t known I needed.

Everything I’d denied myself for too many years.