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“Adrenaline for courage,” he says, righting my panties and jeans. Fixing me up while I just lean on the wall. “Don’t want you to overdose on it, though.”
“Fuck off.” My gaze drops to his pants. “You’re hard.”
“For you, sunshine? Always.”
“I mean?—”
“I know what you mean, and it’s fine. If we ignore it, he’ll go away.”
I snort. “He?”
“Knox Jr.”
Oh my God. “You named your dick?”
He eyes me. “Yeah, obviously. It’s not a very clever name, not like Bam Bam the Dinosaur, or?—”
“Knox?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop while you’re ahead.” I eye him. “Speaking of head…”
Before he can stop me, I drop to my knees and return the favor.
Jacob Rhodes and Melody Cameron. Not yet married.
Greyson Devereux and Violet, formerly Reece, now Devereux. Married, obviously.
Steele O’Brien and Aspen. Married. Also, strangely, stepsiblings. They skate over that with a wave of their hands and sheepish smiles.
Miles Whiteshaw and Willow Reed, engaged.
And Camden Church. Single, as far as I know. Jacob’s known Camden the longest, so his opinion slightly outweighed the rest of ours. Not that I was against it. I don’t know him, and I didn’t claim to. Knox had no objection either. So here he sits.
Then there’s us. Knox and me.
Also married. How weird.
Camden spends a good deal of time telling us what he knows about Luke Abernathy. Luke’s dad, Lucas Abernathy Senior, has owned the Titans for just under a decade. And apparently, it only took four years for his son to start crawling around in the shadows. Coming to practice, pulling random players aside.
This information isn’t private. Camden gives us the names and phone numbers of a few former Titans, and a quick call to each of them confirms the story. That Luke Abernathy just had a weird way about him, that he seemed to be sticking his nose in places that he didn’t belong.
It wasn’t until after Camden was traded to the Titans a few years ago that things got…weird. In his words. Games they should’ve lost, in what their coach said was a rebuilding year, they won in hand. Games they should’ve easily won, against the lowest-ranked teams in the division, they walked out with a huge deficit in points.
But it wasn’t all the time either. Just sporadically.
“Until another player approached me about the bribe.”
We straighten.
Camden runs his fingers through his dark hair. “That player will remain anonymous. He trusted me, and I’m not going todrag him into this. He was conflicted, which is why he came to me in the first place.”
“What was Luke bribing him with?”
“He offered to cut him in.” Camden lifts one shoulder, then reaches for his beer. We broke those out not long after we all took our seats. “Help throw a game or two, do essentially whatever he needed?—”
“Well, he’s moved beyond bribes,” I mumble.
