AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Declan
When my center, Jasper, and I sit down to eat lunch in the cafeteria Friday afternoon, it’s already been a shit day. We’re both quiet while we inhale our perfectly prepared, perfectly tasteless chicken, brown rice, and broccoli without speaking. We fly out tomorrow morning for our game Sunday against our division rivals in Dallas. It’s going to be a tough game, and the staff has hammered that home all morning. I’m about to stand up when Jasper chokes on his water before hissing. “Ice Queen at two o’clock.”
I stare at him for a beat, having no fucking clue what he’s talking about before I hear the staccato clicking of stilettos against the linoleum floor. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Scarlet Kingston heading our way. She looks entirely out of place in her sleek black pantsuit with blood-red heels. Her hair is pulled back off her face, and her glasses are perched on her nose.
She and I met on Monday to discuss the fundraiser’s press coverage and what to expect this week. Then she wanted to plan out the rest of the season, but I was saved by the bell. Coach needed me, and I’ve never been so happy to be summoned by my dad. Is it possible to have PTSD around one person?
Scarlet stops next to the table and examines it like a bug on her perfectly polished fingernails before she glances at Jasper and waits impatiently for him to excuse himself.
Jasper makes it a habit to avoid the press and Scarlet as much as possible. He happily stands, nods at her, and then turns to me with a stupid grin on his face. “Catch you on the other side, Dec.” He might as well have said, “Better you than me,” before he escaped.
Scarlet leans against the table and crosses her stilettoed feet at her ankles and her arms over her chest. “Declan, I’ve spoken with your agent and sent him a list of interviews I’d like you to do.” She appears to be waiting for a response but continues with a huff when I don’t give her one. “Last weekend was a nice start to changing the narrative, but we need more. The organization needs you to pick at least one of the reporters from the list to sit down with and do an in-depth piece. Hunter has all the information. I need an answer by Monday morning.” She unclasps her arms and moves her hands to her hips, irritated by my lack of response. “Declan... Are you hearing me? Did you get hit on the head earlier?”
When I’ve finally had enough of this conversation, I stand and hold my ground, which is not an easy thing to do with Scarlet. “I’ll talk to Hunter after practice. Anything else?”
I know I shouldn’t be this short with an owner of the team, but I’m a football player, not a damn trained monkey.
“No. But I need to know Monday. If I don’t hear from you or Hunter, I’ll pick the interview myself.”
I nod and turn to leave when I hear her call, “And pick your damn sponsorship deals, Declan.” The click-clack of her heels goes out the same way they came in, and I cringe.
I fucking hate the press.
Ican’t help the smile stretches across my face later that day when my phone rings with a text from my brother.
Coop:Hey man. I got my phone and computer back – so I can finally text and email again.
Declan:Hey there, little brother. Still loving the Navy?
Coop:Yeah, man. Looking forward to the next step of training.
Declan:Did you see Dad set a date?
Coop:Yup. I’ll be there. Think one of the guys is coming home with me too.
Declan:You finally coming out?
Coop:STFU.
Declan:Nothing wrong with liking guys, bro.
Coop:Nope, nothing wrong with it, except I’m more of a pussy man.
Coop:Speaking of – Did I hear you hooked up with Belles?
Declan:What the hell is wrong with you?
Declan:Jesus Christ, I’m gonna kill Nattie.
Coop:Might want to kill Murphy while you’re at it.
Declan:Fuck me.
Coop:Is it serious?
Declan:It’s Annabelle.
Coop:Exactly. It’s Annabelle and Tommy. Don’t fuck this up, man. She’s perfect. If I weren’t going to be away for the next 8 years, I would’ve gone for it.
