Page 25 of Hard to Score

“Noted.” He tosses his towel at the dirty towel bin across the room. “Any advice on Finn?”

“Advice on Finn? I thought you were just talking to Kincade?” I ask, fighting the moral dilemma. If he stays with his current agent, it sounds like Finn will keep him in New York. If he were to switch agencies over to say Kincade, then maybe he’d be traded to California and I’d get a chance at starting.

The problem? That pushes him into Brexton’s realm, and history or no history, I hate the idea of him being anywhere near her for an extended period of time.

“Nah, man. Why would I do that? Finn’s the one I want to fight for me. Brexton’s the one I want to fuck.”

“Cut the shit, Justin.”

“Christ, man. Relax. I’m just teasing. She’s hot. I’m hard to resist. We’d be good together.”

“Too bad she has a long-term boyfriend,” I lie through my fucking teeth. What the fuck, Bowman? Brex is a big girl. She works in this industry, so I know for a fact she can handle herself.

She’s not a princess. She doesn’t need saving.

And yet when Justin lifts a lone eyebrow at my comment, I don’t flinch.

“That’s right. I forgot you know her. Steve said you were talking to her after the game the other night.” I nod. “So she really has a man?”

“From what I gather.”

“And you think that scares me?” He throws his head back and laughs. “No one can resist me.”

“You need serious mental help.”

“No, man. What I need is advice. Care to give me some? You’ve had skin in this game a hell of a lot longer than I have.”

Spoken like a true dick. Thanks for pointing out you’ve been in the show two years while I’ve been sidelined for what feels like forever.

“Tell your agent what you want and if he can’t give it to you, then move on to one who will.”

He nods with a dramatic flair. “Yep, but that motherfucker keeps telling me to stay here. That this is the team I need to be on. It’s the right makeup, management, offensive coordinator.”

And Finn is right. This team, this offense, is best suited to an arm like Justin’s, just like it suits mine.

But I keep my mouth shut.

“Finn works for you. Not the other way around. You’re his paycheck, and he doesn’t get paid unless you do.”

He stares at me with blank eyes as if I just spoke an epiphany. It’s common sense. How in the hell does he remember our playbook during games?

“Huh. That was solid, man.”

I nod and fight the shake of my head in disbelief. “You’re the one whose contract is up at the end of the season. Tell your agent what you want, and if he doesn’t comply, then get a new agent who will.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

BREXTON

“IT’S BEEN AWESOME SEEING YOU again too,” I say and hug an old friend before she flits over to another couple she swore she hadn’t seen in ages.

The wedding was lovely, and boring in that way most weddings are. Lots of words that no one really listens to until they lead to that one moment. The I dos. The you may kiss the bride. The first time the couple turns to face the audience as a Mr. and Mrs.

The cocktail reception, while my old college friend and her groom have their wedding photos taken is even better. The iconic Tavern on the Green lit up with fairy lights and lush greenery—a little piece of country in this concrete-laden city—isn’t a bad place to be with a glass of wine in hand and a heart full of the romanticism of the moment.

The night is warm and the music is soft, as I move across cobblestone pavers toward the doors we’ve been summoned to for dinner service to start.

But when I look up and see Drew standing across the patio, my feet falter and my heart skips a beat.