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“Awe. Did you here that D’Andre?” Anao’i teases. “He loves us.”
Johnson curls a bicep, kissing it. “What’s not to love? You know we ain’t goin’ to let no one hurt that pretty face of yours McCabe.”
“I’m not the pretty one,” I grunt. “That’s all Zee.”
Zane walks to both of them with puckered lips. “Wanna see how pretty I am?”
Anao’I pops the back of his head. “What have I told you about keeping those lips away from me?” he laughs.
D’Andre pats my back with a shake of his head. “Sorry to tell you, brother, but you’re a pretty boy. Why you think all the girls chase you all the time?”
“Speaking of girls,” Cameron Davis our tight end says slinging an arm over D’Andre and Zane’s shoulders. “What’s say we go find us some tonight?”
“I’m in,” Zane says with a smirk. “Not fair not to share all of this.”
“What about you, McCabe? You want in on the action?”
I shake my head laughing. “I could use a drink, but you can keep the girls.”
“Red at eight then.”
We all nod in agreement then return to cleaning ourselves up to get out of there.
After finishing with the press conference, I loosen the damn tie they make me wear and head to my car. “McCabe,” I hear Anao’I call out. I stop to see him walking towards me. “Wanted to ask you how’s your girl doing?”
I smile at his question. They all avoided asking me about her for the last year, knowing that Zane and I were struggling with what went down. We managed to keep it out of the press, but a few of the players we’d gotten close with knew what happened with Zoey a couple of weeks ago. Anao’I was one of them. “She’s doing better. Got a couple more weeks at that place, then I’m bringing her home.”
“That’s great, Jax,” he says sincerely. “You’re a good man.”
I shake my head because I’m not so sure about that. A better man wouldn’t have let all of this happen. “You didn’t drive here today?” I ask noticing his ostentatious Jaguar is nowhere to be found.
“Hell no, man,” he says as if I’ve lost my mind. “I would never bring any of my cars here on game day.”
I laugh at the seriousness lining his face. “Want a ride?” I offer.
He looks at my 1970 Challenger with admiration. I can’t help the little tug of pride. I love my car. Bought it as a rusted nothing and rebuilt her myself when I was sixteen. It’s got a lot of sentimentality. “That’s one fine car, Jay. When you going to let me take it off your hands?”
I guffaw at his question. Same one he’s been asking me since the first day I drove her up for training camp. “Not for sale, Fet. She's got too many memories.” Like mine and Zoey's first time.
“Can I drive?”
Now it’s my turn to look at him like he’s lost his mind. “Only one other person has ever, or will ever drive this car, brother. Now get it, and we’ll head to Red.”
He grinning at me while climbing his big body into the passenger side. “So, the other person to drive the car? Valen?”
I give him an incredulous look. “Fuck no! Do I look insane?”
“So, your girl?”
“No, but I probably would let her if she asked. She just never has,” I answer pulling the car out of the massively packed parking lot.
“Okay so who’s the lucky bastard that gets to drive this beauty?”
“My brother.”
He gives me a curious look. “Brother? I didn’t even know you had a brother.”
“Yeah. Five years older.”
