The Hook Up (Game On Book 1)

Money. The way most of us are playing, we’ll be making bank by this time next year. It isn’t a pipe dream; it’s a fact. And it will come with the expectation of excellence. Against guys who are tougher, faster, stronger, and far more experienced.

After gaining national recognition, I’ve had the privilege to talk to some of my heroes: quarterbacks who’ve won the Super Bowl. They make no bones about the unrelenting pressure. In college, you have what feels like ten minutes in the pocket. In the NFL? It’s ten seconds. And you better believe they’ll hit you hard. You aren’t looking down the barrel of a gun but a fucking cannon, kid.

Does it scare me?

It makes me antsy as all hell. I want my life to happen now.

I shrug and set my now empty bottle down too. “We’ll be all right. And by ‘we’ I mean you, a few others, and me. I don’t know about some of these boneheads.”

Dex just watches me as if I haven’t answered the way he wants. “You think it’s smart to fall for a girl now when you know what’s out there for you in the near future?”

“What do you mean by that?” I know I’m scowling, but does he think a guy can simply cut off his feelings?

Dex’s massive shoulders lift and fall. “I’m thinking a girl’s got to love the life as much as she loves you to put up with the shit we’ll be dealing with, is all.”

The scowl on my face seems to sink down into my bones. I want to roll my neck just to throw off the ugly feeling settling over me. Love the life? Shit, I don’t even know how to get Anna to consider the possibility of loving me.

One girl decides to lose the g-string and hop on Gray’s lap, and I’ve had enough.

“All right, that’s it,” I say, “I’m calling this game.”

“About time,” Dex mumbles.

“Listen up,” I boom out in my play voice, “party’s over.”

“What?” shouts Simms. “We just got started.”

“And now you’re going to end it.” Dex plants his feet wide and crosses his thick arms over his chest. “We’re coming down to the wire. Coach hears about this shit and it’s lights out.”

“Damn, man, that’s just wrong,” grumbles another guy.

But they’re listening; Dex and I are co-captains, and they’re used to listening to us. Besides, they’ve committed too much to the season to mess up now. The women, on the other hand, are gaping at Dex and me like we’ve gone insane. Which makes my guys slow their feet.

“Come on.” I clap my hands together. “Let’s go.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“That’s right,” I say to the group, “Mom and Dad have spoken, so be good little fuckers and go to bed.”

Someone half-heartedly throws a cheese puff at me, but they’re moving, grumbling their way to the door with Dex herding them out. As for the girls, all but one of them scurry off into my bathroom to put their clothes back on, freshen up, or whatever; I don’t want to know.

It’s the one who’s stayed behind that worries me. She’s eyeing me like I’m ice cream on a cone as she strides over, clad only in black heels, her breasts bouncing with every step.

Hell.

I busy myself with collecting empty bottles, praying she’s just heading for a drink. No such luck.

“Battle Baylor. God, but you’re hot.” She edges nearer, her nipples grazing my arm as she moves around to face me. “Even better looking in person than you are on TV.”

Life-sized too. I refuse to edge back, but I want to. I’m not blind; the woman’s body is centerfold ready. I still want her far away from me. I keep my eyes on her face. “I’ve got clean-up to do here. You and your friends all set with payment?”

The smile she gives me is tight, her lips shining with a layer of pink gloss that would probably taste like stale wax. “Don’t you worry about payment. I’m off the clock for this. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you.”

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