Page 25 of Who’s Playing You (In The Nick of Time #1)

NICK SOBA

Say yes, honey.

S he better fucking say yes - to all of it. Because I’d already booked it all. But more importantly, I needed her all to myself and I was running out of time.

This weekend would be a big one for us. She was coming to our house, to our farm, for the first time. She was going to step foot in her studio for the first time too.

Oh yeah, and she’d see me naked too.

Minor detail.

But back to the timeline. So! This weekend, we needed to make big strides.

I had a lot of plans for us this weekend.

I’d hopefully get her halfway moved in with me after it.

Then the weekend after that we’d go to either The Clark or Lake George for our next “session”, whether it ended up being viewing art at museums or making our own art in the Adirondacks, it didn’t much matter to me.

Because if I deferred back to my schedule, the weekend after this was my last free weekend in quite a while because our first game was just after that weekend. Plus, Scottie would start school again at around the same time.

I needed her under my roof by then. Our roof.

Once I had her here, I could see her every day before and after practice and games, minus when I had to be away.

But at least when she’d be here, I could watch her in absolutely every room due to the security system I had installed in the house.

If you think I went overboard, well, multiply it by ten thousand.

I had cameras in the fucking toilet! … Well, not actually, but just about.

There wasn’t one blind corner where a camera wasn’t pointed.

So when I’d be away for a day or three for a game, I needed Scottie in our bed.

But wait… shit! She hasn’t agreed to a weekend getaway yet. Come on honey, love of my life, just say yes , I mumbled to myself as I switched over to the security feed from her apartment.

Where the fuck was she?

I toggled between the living room that was directly open to her kitchen, then the bedroom, then the bathroom and she was nowhere to be found. I knew from the tracking app on her phone that she was home.

Or her phone was.

“Fuck! Scottie, honey! Did you leave your phone again before you went out?” I mumbled under my breath, trying not to draw anyone’s attention around me from where I was sitting on the plane.

We were flying back after nearly a full week away. We had to do some press, pre-season shit, and one “friendly” game that left me… livid is not strong enough of a word. Murderous might be better suited though.

And now Scottie wasn’t fucking answering me and I wasn’t sure where in the hell she was. I was about to switch over to the app where I could locate her car, when I caught movement by the couch.

I zoomed in and realized that she was on the floor.

Panic seared through my every cell.

Had something happened to her? Was she unconscious?

She then sat up, leaning her back against the front of the couch as she glared at her phone and bit her lip. Oh it was so fucking sexy when she did that. But I was jealous. No one should bite that lip except for me.

I didn’t want to call her and be that guy who was talking on his phone on the plane. And besides, I didn’t need anyone on this aircraft knowing my business.

Just as I was about to do something drastic, like find a parachute and jump out of this fucking thing, I saw her fingers begin to move. I flipped over to my text app and saw the bubbles.

Thank fuck.

The bubbles came and went. Came and went.

“Bruh, you look a little wound up, ya alright?”

The voice startled me, and I quickly looked up and saw Micah Jones, one of my wide receivers, grinning at me. The guy's grill was so impressive, all straight, white teeth. But it was his whole demeanor that made you drop your guard.

“Uh, what?” I stammered, not even sure what he had said to me.

“I said that you look a bit on edge, my man. You alright?”

“Ahh, yeah, fine,” I bit out, hating being distracted from Scottie for even a second.

“Yeah, you’re looking really fine right now. You look more like you’re about to go postal. So ah, what’s the problem? You still bugging over that last play?”

I whirled my head back in his direction, “That play was bullshit, and you know it. That ball was supposed to go right into your hands in the end zone, but those idiots couldn’t do their fucking jobs!” I was seething again.

“Chill man, just chill. It was just a pre-season exhibition game. It’s all good,” his grin had returned as he continued to lean on the seat in front of me.

“That’s the attitude that breeds losses,” I stated simply and his grin faltered.

“That type of attitude is infectious and leads nowhere. I came to win. There’s no point showing up unless it’s to play your very best, and to win.

And if the rest of this team is going to half-ass this entire fucking season…

well, then I might as well see about a trade to a team that has players who are serious about fucking winning. ”

He straightened slightly and his grin had vanished as he contemplated what I just said.

“Micah, you’re honestly one of the best wide receivers in the entire league,” his eyes widened at my compliment that left no questions, because it was a full-on statement.

“I’ve seen footage of you from the last two seasons, and no one was doing you any favors.

Your first season though? Phew! You had an incredible season, just like the numbers you turned up in the Combine.

That was impressive ! Almost as impressive as your junior year in college, you set records that year that I doubt will be broken for a long time. ”

Micah’s jaw was now on the ground. “You been scoping me out, rook?”

“I make it my business to know who I’m playing with,” I stated simply.

“And had certain players done their fucking jobs today… you would have had the TD that was deservedly yours. So excuse me if I take offense on your behalf, because it looks like you take none. But you were robbed ! So if you don’t mind, I’d rather you start breaking records again so that we can shatter the expectations of all of the nay-sayers, because…

there’s no one or nothin’ stopping us, except us.

And I don’t know about you, but I have a tendency to get the fuck out of my own way. ”

He continued to stare at me, completely unable to rebut what I had just said. Because, honestly? What the fuck can you say to the shit that I say?

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m trying to get a hold of my wife.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You-your wife ? Rook, I didn’t realize you were fitted with a ball and chain.” A very hesitant grin returned to his lips.

Shit.

I hadn’t meant to let slip about Scottie.

I just got so wrapped up in my anger over the fucking disaster of the game - it wasn’t perfect .

And it should have been absolutely perfect.

And then to top that shit-cake off, Scottie wasn’t responding.

She didn’t understand the urgency of the timeline that we were on.

“Ahh, soon-to-be,” I stammered. “But, ahh, just keep it under wraps, will ya?” I tried to save my own ass.

His grin was back. “I got you, brother,” he said as he rose to stand in the aisle.

He lifted his fist out to me and I bumped it in return.

“And I think I got you on the other part too… you’re…

well, you’re a little intense, guess it’s a good thing I stopped to check on you.

But, ahh, I’m also glad to be playing with you - not against you.

You’re a little frightening when you get like that, my man. ”

I just nodded, but he continued, “Believe it or not, I want the same thing as you. It’s just hard to take it seriously and give it your all when the odds are stacked so high against you.”

“Then un-fucking-stack them,” I gritted.

“Or,” he let it hang before continuing, “you knock it all down with a bomb hurled right at the heart of that stack… And I’m thinking… I’m thinking that you might be our bomb. I got your back, Diva. Now, chillax, we’re about to land and you’ll be home to the missus soon.”

I watched as he walked away. Did I just make a believer out of him? I fucking hoped so!

When I returned my attention to the phone in my hand, I lit up the screen and there was a message from Scottie. Thank fucking God for that!

Scottie:

Yes.