Sacked (Gridiron #1)

The bar down the street has plenty of action. Half dance club, half sports bar, we settle in to watch the night games. I find myself a table in front of the Wisconsin/Alabama game. Right off the bat someone’s BCS hopes will get bruised. Hammer and Matty join me. We order a round of beers and a couple of appetizers and settle in.

The Crimson Tide’s defense is a ball-busting, soul-crushing machine. I simultaneously admire the hell out of them while wanting to beat them into the turf. They’re one of the teams I wouldn’t be surprised to play in the playoffs.

During halftime, the score is tied at ten all, and Matty and Hammer leave to meet up with the local talent.

“Hey,” a soft voice greets me.

My head swivels to find a sweet thing standing at my side, one hip jutting out and long red fingernails tapping away at that round shape. If she meant to draw my attention there, it’s a success. I flick my eyes upward. She’s pretty. Real pretty. Dark tight curls, skin that reminds me of the fall leaves, and a top so low that I wonder if I’m seeing nips or that’s a shadow from the big screen. “You Knox Masters?”

I nod.

“You play for the Warriors, right?”

“Right.” I scratch the side of my neck as I search for a nice way to tell her to get lost.

“I saw you on the field today. You looked amazing.” Her lips look red and very shiny, and she deserves some kind of response. I’m not sure what it is.

She leans forward and presses a kiss against my cheek. “That guy gave me $100 to deliver this to you.”

Two tables down, I see Jack’s eyes narrow. I shift backward.

“Okay, thanks.” I take the card. She doesn’t leave. I look up and see an older guy tip his head toward me. He must think I’m stupid. Agent contact at any time before the season ends could ruin my eligibility. I pick up the card, rip it into tiny pieces, and dump it into the ashtray in the middle. Nothing will affect our chances of winning title this year.

“The card was his idea. The kiss was mine.”

“Need something, sweetheart?” Hammer comes to my rescue.

“Oh no, I was telling Knox here how much I like his game.”

Hammer puts an arm around her shoulder and gently turns her away from the table. “I play for the Warriors, too. You know much about football?” She shakes her head as Hammer leads her toward the dance floor. “I play on the quarterback’s blind side. That’s his weak side. Only the best defensive players get that position.” He looks back over his shoulder and winks.

I give him a salute and slide off the chair. Time to go home. When I arrive, Matty’s got the Do Not Disturb on the door. I ignore it and walk in. A woman is bouncing, reverse cowgirl style, her brown curls springing in rhythm.

“Don’t mind me,” I say easily. “Just getting my book.”

“You can join us,” Matty offers. “Lucy won’t mind.”

“It’s Laura.” She scowls. But then turns to me. “You’re Knox Masters, right? I saw you on the cover of Sports Illustrated.”

“Yeah? Which one was I?”

She looks confused. “The one in the Warriors uniform.”

That’s another reason I’m sure about Ellie. She can tell me and Ty apart. All the fucking time.

Matty sits up and rubs his hands along the side of the lady’s thin frame, and then up to cup a very large, very perky pair of tits. Not gonna lie. My body reacts. I’m twenty-one. There’s a hot naked chick offering herself to me.

“Thanks for the offer. I’ll read my book.”

“Your loss.” She shrugs.

I grab my phone and book, and head up to the tenth floor’s concierge lounge. Coach gets us access so we don’t have to sit downstairs and answer questions from the press.

I open the book and…it smells. Not bad but girlish. I lift it to my nose and inhale. It smells like her. And I can’t let another minute go by without contacting her.

I power up the phone, and as soon as it comes online, the message I’ve waited for appears. Got you. I grin to myself.

I shoot her a reply. Phone was dead. You up?

When the text message alert dings, all the tension of the day drains out of me. I slump down lower in the chair to get comfortable.

Ellie: Yes. Sorry about the other day. The thing with Jack caught me off guard. He doesn’t want people he respects to think he’s dumb.

I don’t want to text her. I press dial and wait for her to answer.

“Masters?”

I close my eyes in irritation at hearing my last name.

“You there?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“We’re on the same team, you know. We all want the same thing—for Jack to play.”

She sighs. “I know. But Jack is…sensitive about his grades. He doesn’t want people he admires to think he’s dumb or slow.”

“I don’t.”

“Then how about I check up on him?”

“That works for me.” I don’t care about Jack. I mean, I do in the sense that I want him to succeed, because that means our offense succeeds. But in a contest between caring about his classes and wanting Ellie, she wins.

The next sigh she lets out sounds like relief. “When will you be back?”

I smile at the slightly anxious note in her voice. She wants to see me. My whole body perks up at this.

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