Page 171 of Colliding with Ten

He leveled a gaze at me. “You know we’ve met before.”

I frowned. Something about Callahan had always felt familiar, but I could never quite place it.

He cocked a brow. “Florida. Prospect camp.”

Damn, he was right. I remembered him now. He was much skinnier then. Cocky as hell. He’d put a corner route through a window I missed. “You were the kid who went before me.”

“You told everyone I got lucky.”

I winced. “Shit. I said that?”

“Loudly.”

“I was being a jackass. I owe you an apology for that.”

His brows rose; he hadn't expected that.

“You didn’t get lucky. That was a hell of a throw.” I rubbed my jaw. “My wrist was still messed up from surgery. I didn’t want to admit I wasn’t ready, so I took out my frustration on the guy who was.”

I hadn’t been mature enough to know I wasn’t competing against AJ, but with my healing body’s limits.

“I was an immature little shit. I’m sorry, man.”

AJ nodded, accepting the apology. Any lingering tension eased. Not enough to be friends, but no longer enemies.

“You know we’re coming for you in the playoffs.”

“I’m counting on it.”

The corner of AJ’s mouth twitched. “Get out of my apartment, Monroe.”

“Gladly, Callahan.”

He opened the door. I stepped into the hallway, and before he closed it, I turned back.

“For what it’s worth, she talks about you more than she talks about anyone else, including me. And honestly, it gets on my nerves.”

He laughed, and it sounded good. “I bet that hurt for you to admit it.”

I nodded.

Minutes later, the elevator opened, and I stepped inside. My offensive coordinator had sent three more texts. The walkthrough was moved to tomorrow afternoon, and there was a new film on the Hawks’ red-zone defense. I opened the attachment and started watching before the elevator reached the lobby. Football and my life were no longer pulling me in opposite directions.

AYLA

AJ sat on the bench outside the Hawks facility entrance, elbows on his thighs, staring at the concrete between his feet. He wore sweats, having already finished his practice. I took a deep breath and braced myself.

When he looked up, his face wasn’t cold or angry like the last time. He was my brother again. I walked over and sat down beside him. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes. Cars passed in the lot. A few players and cheerleaders walked by and nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” He didn’t look up. “About another man believing and defending you first before I did.”

“And?”

“And you were right to say it.” He finally lifted his head, and there was none of the defensiveness from the last time. “I don’t know how I let it get that far. Believing a headline over my own sister.”

“It wasn’t your best moment.”

“I was wrong about Monroe.”