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“I can’t believe they didn’t give us a heads up,” Easton grumbles.
“You know how it is when they do trade deals like this. All hush hush until it’s done.”
“You’d think we’d at least get a warning before he shows up on my field.”
“I’m guessing Coach Undergrove knew how unpopular it would be. It’s their field now. You’re going to have to play by their rules.”
“This team and this city love me and hate them. We’ll see whose rules we play by.”
Coach Undergrove was Quentin’s uncle and also the new head coach for the Chaos. Easton had already been wary of that change. He’d been close with the former coach. Was looking forward to my friend A.J. being at the helm. He’d been convinced when we’d talked that this would finally be Chaos’s year to go all the way.
At least until he was utterly blindsided by this—our father’snemesis being the man who decides his fate on a weekly, if not daily, basis.
“I could insist I can’t work with him. That our family loyalties run too deep to make it tenable.”
“Don’t test your new coach. He knows you’re here. I’m sure he’s planning for the inevitable clash. Or at least I hope he is. He should be, or he needs his own new PR team.”
“Are you going to be okay working with him? I know you needed this job after Colorado.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse than him. Besides, it was so long ago I barely remember it.” It’s a lie. I remember everything and it’s the last thing I need when I’m already suffering recent heartbreak over our business and investor problems.
I’d had huge plans this past winter. I was going to start my own PR firm and resort. My best friend and I had property all picked out, several investors lined up to make it happen, and a promising list of potential clients who were excited to see how we could change their careers for the better. All of it had disappeared almost overnight when we found issues with drought and wildfires were regular occurrences, and the disaster insurance and backup water solutions were all prohibitively expensive and nearly impossible to pull off.
My dreams were crushed and I’d been desperate to find somewhere soft to land. So when the position here with my brother’s team had opened up and one of my best friends from college was looking at taking over as quarterback, I’d rushed to sign the contract. Even after A.J.’s position here fell through, I was planning to make the best of it. I’d happily gotten on the plane just a couple of days ago blissfully unaware of my fate. The one that involved the gorgeous, infuriating, and despicable man across the field who’s just realized I’m standing here with my brother and his friends.
4
Quentin
I’m staringacross the sideline as I watch Madison talking to a couple of the other guys on the team. She’s laughing hard, and it’s obvious she already has a rapport with them from being here before with her brother. I’m just struck by how she looks even more gorgeous than I remember her—all curves and long blonde hair. Her bright blue-green eyes and smile make my heart kick in my chest just looking at her. Even when they’re not turned on me.
Madison is the kind who walks into a room, and everyone stares. She could have been a model if she wanted. Could have lived an easy life as a trophy wife, and half the football players in this league would fucking trip over themselves to be Mr. Madison Westfield. I’ve been holding my breath over the years, expecting an engagement announcement between her andsomeone I lined up across the field from, just praying it wouldn’t be someone on my team or one of my former friends.
But instead, she’s working PR for not great money, and she’s still not married, even if she isn’t exactly single. Her new relationship with A.J. Bernard has the shittiest timing, coming right before I finally get to see her again. A chance I’ve been waiting years for.
I suppose that’s cosmic payback for taking the guy’s job here. I couldn’t even hate him for dating her. Bernard is a good guy, a great fucking football player, and generally well-liked by anyone who knows him—including the media. So any hope that he’s going to fuck up is probably out the window. If I want her, I’m going to have to win her fair and square. Or at least, I’m going to try.
“You can look at her all you want. But if you touch her, I’ll fucking break every bone in your throwing arm.” I don’t even have to look to know who it is. He sounds and looks enough like his brother, Tobias, that Easton Westfield reminds me of my old best friend.
“I thought you Westfields were the nonviolent sort.” I give him a sidelong glance.
“I’m sure you’re smart enough to stay away from her, and it won’t come to that.”
“I think you’re going to be disappointed.”
“I hope not.”
“Guess we’ll see.”
“I’d love to see you off this team. You don’t deserve the position here. Whoever thought you were better than Bernard in the front office is a fucking idiot.”
“Westfield, hit the fucking showers, and then see me when you’re done,” my uncle’s voice booms from behind us, dragging the attention of most of the field to where we’re standing.
Easton turns to look at him, a sneer marring his face, and they have a silent but brutal, face-off before Easton heads forthe locker room. My uncle’s gaze falls on me next, his voice low enough that only I can hear it when he speaks.
“Don’t antagonize him. When I throw him off this team, I want it to be of his own making.”
I clench my jaw and nod. Fairly certain I’m going to be doing that a lot to make my way through these first few months.
