Page 8 of Who’s Playing You (In The Nick of Time #1)

NICK SOBA

S cottie had nearly given me a heart attack when she walked right in front of that car.

I was just a few feet away from her, and was about to give away my position by running right after her to drag her out of the street, out of harm’s way, but she’d quickly stepped out of the street and away from the car that was barreling towards her at the last second.

I made a hasty retreat to the shadows when she did that. I needed a minute after that near-death experience to calm myself. This woman was going to be the death of me.

I realize she was a little spooked though, and that was entirely my fault.

She’d sensed me this morning.

I felt it.

So when she searched for me, I let her finally see me.

It made me so fucking happy when her eyes zapped to mine. And she couldn’t look away - our connection is just that strong. But then those fucking kids walked by her and it distracted her.

They broke our connection.

Fucking cockblockers.

But alas, I guess that was ok for our first time. I doubt she’d be ready to meet me in person quite yet. Besides I had more work to do before I made contact with her.

I knew she’d finished her summer course and she now spent her days at her studio on campus painting and drawing, or she’d sit at that ridiculous coffee shop with her laptop and write.

If she wasn’t at those two places, she was out on one of the many trails in the region, walking, hiking, immersed in nature or some shit, her sketch pad in hand.

I’d already checked the security footage from her apartment, so I knew she wasn’t home.

So like I said, she was probably still at the Caffeinated Cock, with all of its rooster paraphernalia all over the place.

Like I just sated: ridiculous. But it was so ridiculous and stupid, it was borderline genius.

Things were starting to really ramp up for me with The Rage. Training camps were in full swing, and our first game was just around the corner.

I almost resented that fact too, because it’d take me away from her.

But at the same time, this was the closest I’d ever been to her. And this was the most I’d ever seen of her, consistently.

It was bliss.

My house - our house - was all done. The pool was finished. The construction crew was now working on the barns for me. I’d left the house sparsely furnished though, just the bare necessities. I’d leave that to Scottie when she was ready.

But I had a lot of instructions for Bob when it came to one of the barns in particular.

The barn closest to the house was going to be Scottie’s studio.

I knew what my girl wanted and needed. So Bob was under specific instructions on how to renovate the barn to my exact specs to give her the most beautiful studio space.

I couldn’t wait to see her face when I’d show it to her.

I sat outside on my deck, overlooking the town below where I knew Scottie was most likely still at that coffee shop, sipping my ice water and formulating my next move.

Sure, maybe I should spend a little more of my time and effort on how to win over my teammates instead of planning mine and Scottie’s future, but frankly…

I let out a heavy sigh. I just didn’t give a fuck.

If those dumbasses were going to be skeptics, let them.

The only thing that would change their minds would be my actions.

Actions speak louder than words.

So let them keep their distance. Let them ignore me. Let them give me sideways glances and try to figure me out.

I guess it also kind of threw them for a loop that The Diva hadn’t made an appearance… yet. I’d been nothing but quiet, friendly (ish), and reserved thus far. A far cry from my reputation, I was well aware.

All I’d done thus far since arriving at The Rage was to show up at least an hour before every practice, put in twice the amount of work that everyone else was putting in, followed by all of the meetings and conditionings and whatever else we needed to do.

The only thing missing was bonding with my team.

One might think that would be a problem. And for most, they’d be correct.

For me, however, this wasn’t a problem. I’d let my work speak for itself.

And so far, the offense was starting to come around ever so slightly. When they saw throw after throw landing with damn near perfect accuracy, well, you can’t but admire that.

And I knew it. They knew it too.

Before long, all those guys would be kissing my ass. They’d be begging for a play that would put a throw from my fingers to their hands in the end zone. All they needed to do was get themselves into position, and I would get them the ball - perfectly spiraled into their hands.

But of course it would be perfect!

My blockers just needed to do their fucking job and give me a few seconds to drop back into the pocket, while my receivers got themselves open downfield.

I didn’t get what the big deal was. Do your fucking jobs and this was all as easy as pie.

Before long, all of those guys would see that too. And then I’d have their blind trust.

So I wasn’t sweating over the lack of a big welcome, let alone a warm welcome. It was fine. I wasn’t here for that.

I looked down to the side table and saw my phone was lighting up. I picked it up and opened it, only to notice that our Trickie Nicky group chat was blowing up from my brothers.

Trickie Nickies

The Love Machine:

I hope you assholes are sweating your balls off just like I am. Texas in August is hotter than the Devil’s anus! FML!

The Holy One:

The Carolinas aren’t much better. It’s so fucking humid here, I can’t tell if I’m taking a piss or if my dick is just sweating along with the rest of my body.

I think I might die. This makes it suck even harder that we didn’t go to San Fran…

but I can’t complain over my signing bonus though.

Holy fuck! That thing had a lot of zeroes!

The Love Machine:

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Keep rubbing it in. Just because you went a couple of places ahead of me and scored some extra loot, doesn’t make you the better receiver, asshole. Just remember that. We all know what time it is when I get on that field!

The Holy One:

I only speak the truth. A lot of zeroes. That’s what I’m saying. … Besides, you know what that money will do for me.

The Love Machine:

For all of us, man. We’re in this together. Speaking of, where the fuck is Diva? Ever since he went to NY it feels like he’s been MIA! Hey, yo!!! Asshole, where the fuck are you? Don’t leave us hanging.

The Holy One:

Yeah, he has been uncharacteristically quiet.

Haven’t seen anything in the news or on socials for …

well, shit! The whole summer. It’s like the poster boy of football, Mr. Needs All the Attention has just vanished.

I wonder who will fill the void… I do look good on a cover, it wouldn’t be hard, I could carve out some time in my schedule for an up close and personal photo op, especially if the photographer is like the last one who shot Diva’s photos for Men’s Health.

Would you two gossip queens stfu! I’m fiiiiiine. I’ve been busy.

I have a life outside of you two, in case you didn’t realize it.

The Love Machine:

Fuck off completely, because no you don’t.

The Holy One:

Yeah, what he said. You’ve never had to have one up until now. Since we’re no longer around, now you’re forced to get your own life. How’s that working out for you btw?

Fine.

The Love Machine:

Hmm. Cryptic.

The Holy One:

Right? Is it confessional time? I’m here to listen to all of your sins.

The Holy One:

Real nice.

The Love Machine:

Right? He’s so ungrateful. You’re offering your services and he just dismisses them and takes them for granted. so sad

Sounds like the two of you are the ones who don’t have a life without ME!

The Love Machine:

There he is!!!!

The Holy One:

Welcome back.

The Love Machine:

LOL. Calm down, man. We’re just busting your chops.

But also, where the fuck have you been? I feel like we have literally not heard a peep out of you since we left school.

I know we’ve all been busy relocating and getting our shit together, but still…

. You’ve been totally MIA not just from socials, magazine covers, news headlines, but from our group chat?

Dude, come on. That’s really not cool. What’s got you distracted? A piece of ass?

The Holy One:

That must be some unicorn pussy-ass combo if that’s the case. Diva’s never let any chick distract him beyond his two-second-pump.

I think this has been a great little break for us and gives us all the opportunity to find new friends. Especially best friends. It’s been nice knowing you two. Nic, Nikolas, have a great life.

The Holy One:

Omfg I’m dying. You need a new nickname, you’re no longer the Diva but the Drama Queen. Get a load of this guy Love-bug!

The Love Machine:

Asshole, stick to your day job. Don’t be applying for any jobs at Hallmark because you suck at poetry and nicknames. Don’t EVER fucking call me Love-bug again!

The Holy One:

I can’t help it if I overheard Christy SCREAM “Love-bug” from inside that broom closet during graduation. Oh man, that one will never get old.

Well, as fun as this has been. I got shit to do. Stay out of trouble - both of you.

The Love Machine:

I make no promises. The ass down here is fresh and voluptuous, and it’s begging for my Lovvvvving! I have already tasted the sweet nectar and can’t wait….

That’s enough

The Holy One:

I’m too far away to bail you out of jail on the jif, so you might want to calm down with all those extracurricular activities, bro.

The Love Machine:

But I got so much love to give!

Knowing that the two of them would now bicker back and forth over bail money and chasing tail, I turned my screen to black and put it on silent.

The overwhelming feeling of guilt washed over me.

I’d betrayed my two best friends in the world after all. And then I’d lied to them - time and again. I took all of our dreams away.

Well, not entirely. We were still playing in the pros and got some of the best deals in our draft class. So I mean, it’s not that bad.

We all got paid. We all got drafted to some incredible teams with amazing coaches. Loving and Papas had teams that were thrilled to have them. So it’s not like I totally screwed them over.

I didn’t ruin our dreams.

I just… altered them.

But still… I did that.

Fuck, they’d never forgive me if they ever found out. I’d never had a secret that I kept from them, so everything just felt off.

But I had to remind myself of my dream. The dream I’d had for almost a decade. One that solely revolved around one Scottie Anderson, soon-to-be, Soba.

Scottie had always been my end goal.

So if my boys knew that, knew that she was the reasoning, they couldn’t be too mad at me. After all, once I had Scottie, who’s not to say that San Fran would trade for us. Scottie would just come with.

Yeah, that was a solid plan.

I’d shoot my contact at San Fran a message tomorrow about trades for next season. I’d only need a few more months.

Then Scottie would be all mine.

Easy as pie.