AllFreeNovel
Share Us
East’s jaw tightens again, and he glances at me.
“You think you’re going to grab the ball when he fumbles it then? You think if she couldn’t make things work with him that she’ll think they could work with you?”
“I think your sister is learning that I’ve changed a lot over the years. That I might have been a dumb kid back then, but I’ve worked hard to be who I am today. And I’ll show up day after day after day to prove to her I’ll be right here for as long as she needs me to be.”
East looks me over and shakes his head, but something in his eyes tells me I’ve gotten through—on some level at least he believes me.
“That’s unfortunate. I was hoping you’d fuck off back to Pittsburgh, and I could find a quarterback who knows how to throw a decent fade.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately, you’re stuck with a quarterback who can run the kind of West Coast offense you excel in. Might even be able to help put your name in the records. But only if you can stop running your mouth long enough to actually play ball.”
He tilts his head, his lips flatlining, and I can tell I’ve got his attention even though he doesn’t respond.
“I want to make your sister happy, but I also want to be here. This team has potential. There’s no reason it can’t be us making a playoff run. You’re fucking phenomenal. Just like your brother. Maybe better. He and I put up a lot of points in college. We could too. But we’ve got to keep all this shit off the field if we’re going to do that.”
“I can keep shit off the field as long as you don’t do anything to hurt my sister. The second that changes is the second any temporary peace between us folds.”
“Deal,” I say without hesitation.
“Just make sure you hold up your end.”
I get a tip of his chin, and he finishes his drink, pushing off the bar and nodding to me before he disappears back into the crowd.
19
Madison
When I getto West Field later that week after A.J. has gone home, I smile at Wren who’s already buzzing around the place, making sure everything is set up and ready to go last minute. In a change of attitude, Quentin agreed to be at the opening for Wren and Easton’s new restaurant—conveniently located on the west side of the stadium. I’ve noticed a shift in the way he and East talk to each other on and off the field, mostly that they do in fact talk now without one of them storming away in the wake of it. I’m too excited at that progress to press either one of them with questions about it, but I’ll take the fact that he’s here as another win.
He’s currently sitting in one of the booths with Fiona, having a beer and chatting with her. I can tell, by the way her face lights and the soft laugh she makes in response to something he’s saying, that she likes him. He grins in response towhatever she says, the kind of smile that’s genuine and not the forced ones he sometimes puts on for the camera, and I feel the smallest twist inside my heart. I can’t be jealous of this—of them. The two of them ending up together—actually liking one another—would be the best possible outcome for all of us.
Quentin and Fiona would make an A-list couple, him as the quarterback and her as a local powerhouse in business and fundraising. It doesn’t hurt that they look good together either, like a matching set with their dark hair, blue eyes, and tattoos. I could see them holding hands together, walking red carpets at galas, posing for cute pumpkin-laden fall family photos, and lounging together on a beach in the summer. No family politics in the way. No professional quandaries to worry about. No bitter past to stop them in their tracks.
The thought of it hurts—not just for Quentin in particular, although that’s the worst of it, but for the fact that every relationship I’ve ever had has made me question if they were there for me or my family. Wondering if it was my father or brothers they really wanted access to. Thinking they might be putting up with my career and schedule not because they wanted me but because they wanted what my last name could get them in the football world.
“You’re deep in thought.” Wren nudges me as she walks by, motioning for me to follow her.
“Just one of those days.”
“Anything in particular?” I don’t miss the way she glances over at Fiona and Quentin.
“Nope. Bea isn’t here yet, is she?”
“No. Not that I’ve seen. I’ve been in the back though so it’s possible. East has been grumbling about me doing too much and trying to slow me down.”
“Well, you do work a lot.”
Wren stops mid-stride and blinks at me. “Pot… meet kettle.”
“I know. I know.”
“Would you want to go remind him it’s almost time to get Gramps? If I say something he’ll insist I ride over with him to get me out of here for a few minutes, and I don’t want to argue about not leaving.”
“You do have a manager for this reason, you know.”
“Don’t you start.” Her eyes narrow at me.
“All right. I’ll let him know. But at least sit down for a bit at some point? Get your feet up maybe?”
