Most Valuable Playboy

Looking back on this last season, I can say with certainty I’m not a playboy at all. I’ve been with one person, and she’s the only person I want to be with ever again. I stroke my chin, like I need to steel myself for a tough conversation. But honestly, there’s nothing hard about what I have to tell him. When you speak from the heart, you don’t need a dose of courage to get the words out. You just need to open your mouth.

“A funny thing happened while I was pretending to be involved with Violet.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Yeah?”

I nod. “It’s not pretend.”

“It’s not?” he asks hesitantly.

I lean back in the chair, hold my arms out wide. “I’m in love with her.”

He knits his brow and rubs his ear like he has water in it. “What did you just say?”

“I’m crazy fucking in love with her. Like, to-the-moon-and-back shit. Like rest of my life, no one else, she’s the one. The sun and all the stars in the sky.”

“Wow. Did you just have a brain transplant with a poet or something? Because this is not you.”

I rub my hand over the back of my neck. “I know. But now it is me. Because that’s what happened. And the truth is, I think I’ve been falling in love with her for a long time, and this pretend deal brought it all to the surface.”

He blows out a long stream of air. “Does she know?”

That’s the biggest issue. “She knows I like her. I’m not sure she knows I’m in love with her.”

He frowns as if he’s still trying to make sense of this. “Are you looking for my blessing, or something?”

I laugh and shake my head. “Actually, I’m not. And I hope you can respect that. I love you, man, and I don’t want to lose your friendship, but I can’t take a chance on her slipping through my fingers. So, I hope you approve, and I’m telling you first, but I want to let her know, and I’m planning on making it crystal clear.”

He takes a deep breath. “What’s your plan?”

“That’s where I need you most. There are a few details I need you to oversee. Maybe Holly, too.” I quickly outline what I have in mind. “I want her to know how much she means to me. Will you help me?”

He stares at me with intense brown eyes, as if he’s hunting for the truth in my face. “You’ll treat her right?”

I nod. “Like a queen.”

“You’ll be good to her?”

“Every day.”

“You love her?”

“More than I love football.”

He shakes his head, amused. “I never thought the day would come.”

But that day is here. “I was bracing for you to give me a hard time,” I say with a relieved sigh. “You were pretty pissed after the auction.”

He holds up a finger. “Correction. I was pissed when I thought you hadn’t told me what was going on. Now you’re telling me, and I appreciate it.”

“So you don’t think I’m just your dickhead, playboy, asshole friend who doesn’t deserve your sister?”

He laughs as he scrubs a hand over his jaw. “You’ll always be a dickhead and an asshole, but you’re my friend, and you’re a good guy. If you’re telling me that the sun rises and sets with my sister, then you damn well better go get your woman.” He shoos me off. “Get out of here and take care of that phone call.”

When I arrive at the hotel, I call Violet and invite her to the game tomorrow. “Please tell me you can make it.”

Her voice is cool, like she’s holding back emotion. “You want me there? As your fake girlfriend? I don’t understand why when Ford made it clear we were over.”

“Ford handles my business. He doesn’t handle my heart. There are things he doesn’t know.”

“And you don’t want to tell me those things now?”

I move the phone away from my ear and stare at the picture of her on the screen. “No. I want to see your face. I want to see you in person. I want to tell you in person. The whole truth. Like I told the coach.”

She sighs heavily.

I can’t let her get away. “I don’t want you there as my fake girlfriend. I want you there as you. As my Violet. Okay?”

She takes a beat.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Please come.”

“I’ll be there.”

When she hangs up, I text Jones and tell him to gather the guys. I grab something for Rick that I picked up at the store on the way over, a little gift for Jones, then an item I snagged from the front desk. I drop them in a plastic bag from the hotel. Ten minutes later, I meet them in Jones’s room.

They’re assembled, parked in chairs around the table.

“To what do we owe the honor of this impromptu team meeting?” Jones asks.

I place my palms together. “Gentlemen, we are going to cut Harlan’s hair tonight.”

Harlan sits up straight, his hand shooting to his long hair. “Blasphemy. What are you talking about?”

“Dude, we’re winning,” Rick adds.

I reach into the bag and toss him a pack of Big Red. “Time for cinnamon gum tomorrow.”

Jones smirks. “Let me guess. You have new socks for me next.”

“You know it,” I say, dipping my hand into the bag and tossing him a pair of my own freshly cleaned socks.

“What in the ever-loving hell?” Harlan asks in his drawl.

Jones stands up and taps Harlan’s skull. “You can’t figure this out?”

Awareness dawns on him. “Ohhhhh.” Harlan looks at me. “You fucking horndog.”

I shrug and hold my hands out wide. Had I broken the pact before we clinched, I might have felt worse. But I don’t, for many reasons. “Guys, we don’t win because of rituals. We win because we play like a team. You guys have had my back all season, and I’ve had yours. But we don’t win because of smelly socks, or pink bubblegum, or uncut hair.”

“Or you not getting your dick wet,” Jones mutters.

I smirk. “Exactly. We win because of how we play, and how we play together. As you can surmise, I broke my superstition. So, the way I see it, you three can step out on the field tomorrow doing what you’ve always done this season. Or you can have my back, and start a new ritual with me. Like a team.”

Jones pumps his arms at his sides and grinds his pelvis. “Cooper can’t keep the snake in the cage, boys. And if the snake is out, the socks are clean, the King of the Jungle’s hair gets cut, and the gum is a new flavor.”

We put our fists together and knock as a foursome.

Harlan sighs. “Since Violet’s not here, which one of you assholes is going to cut my hair?”

The three of us shake our heads.

“Seriously? You’re all too chicken to cut hair?”

“If you have clippers, I’ll give you a buzz cut,” Rick says, rubbing his hand over his own short hair. “But fair warning. I’d probably slip and shave your eyebrows too.”

Harlan sighs. “Thanks, but no thanks, Barber Rick.”

“Wait,” Jones says, grabbing his phone. “I have an idea. I saw Jillian here earlier.”

We all make obscene gestures in his direction. He doesn’t care, though, since he’s convincing the team publicist to play stylist for the night. Moments later, she arrives with a cheery smile on her face.

“Edward Scissorhands at your service,” she says as she marches into the room.

She wets Harlan’s hair and snips off a few inches as I tell them the rest of the plan for tomorrow. Jillian coos and says she can’t wait.

I can’t, either.





35