Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
No, no it wasn’t. Still, I asked, “Are you trying to say it’s something my dad would do? Because that’s different. He started fights because he’s a hothead who can’t handle anyone being better than him. I was defending someone I care—my friend.”
He cocked a brow at me. I was fucked.
“Shit, Warner.” He rubbed a hand over his face, elbows on the desk. He didn’t need me to confirm G and I were a thing. All he had to do was look at me to know it. “Is this going to be a problem? I can’t have fights on my team. Are we going to have to navigate dating, lover spats, and breakups in an NFL locker room?”
“Wow…way to have faith in our relationship. You already have us breaking up.” His eyes narrowed, and I knew I shouldn’t have said that. This apparently wasn’t the time for a sense of humor. “It won’t be a problem,” I replied.
“We’re here for football. This is…well, it’s a PR nightmare waiting to happen is what it is. Plus, it’s messy. I don’t like messes. This isn’t something the league has had to deal with. Honestly, I’m not sure it will end well for the two of you. Two men in a relationship on the same team? It’s…”
“So trade me,” I said. Coach’s mouth dropped open, and not gonna lie, I had to keep myself from turning around to see if someone else had spoken those words using my voice. “If the issue isn’t homophobia or us being on the same team, then let it go unless there’s an issue. And if it becomes a problem, trade me.” I had no idea what in the fuck I was doing. I didn’t even know how Garrett felt about me, if he wanted this to be more than friends with benefits, but I sure as shit wasn’t ready to walk away.
“Slow your roll there, Ramsey. Let’s not go that far. We don’t want to lose you. We built this team around you. No one knows about this. It was my coach’s intuition. All I know is, we don’t want a media circus.”
“And you think I do?” I’d do just about anything to avoid it.
“This is off the record. I’m telling you this as a friend, your coach, and as someone who respects your game and how you handle yourself. You’ve never had a controversy. You don’t cause trouble. You don’t ever have the PR staff scrambling. I think it would be best if you and McRae kept this quiet. There are already pap photos of the two of you together all week, but that can be explained as just being buddies, especially if you have Houston with you more often. Let’s keep this under wraps at least until the end of the season, and then we’ll take it from there.”
“And at the end of this season? If we’re still…” Doing whatever the hell it was we were doing.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Unfortunately, I can’t make you any promises.”
That sounded really fucking bad. Still, I nodded. “Yeah, Coach. We’ll be careful.” We both wanted to keep this a secret anyway. How hard could it be?
18
GARRETT
After bye week, we headed to Kansas City, and while we didn’t wipe the floor with the Crows, we came out with a respectable win, our defense keeping them at bay for the rest of the game after Nance scored a touchdown in the middle of the fourth quarter.
Cross had friends on the team and, since our flight didn’t leave until early the next morning, a bunch of us decided to tag along with them downtown. I guilted-slash-goaded Ramsey into coming along.
“KC women are crazy hot,” Tucker said as our group crammed into the hotel elevator.
“Las Vegas tops, though. All those performers,” Ellis countered. “I hooked up with a contortionist from Cirque once. Jesussssss.” He let out an appreciative sigh.
Tucker snorted. “She’d have to be able to find your dick.”
A brief scuffle broke out amid the laughter, flattening Ramsey’s back against my chest and me harder against the back wall. I lost track of the conversation as I let my hand roam up the back of his thigh and beneath his shirt.
Ramsey sucked in a quiet breath and froze when I fanned my fingers over his lower back and then squeezed his hip, pulling him tighter against my burgeoning hard-on. I wanted this ass, wanted him. I suddenly couldn’t remember why I’d wanted to go out in the first place.
“McRae!”
“Yeah?” Fuck, I’d missed something. Ramsey shifted, but I gripped his waistband and held him in place.
“Your cousin? In Vegas?”
“What about her?” Fuck, Ramsey’s skin was so warm. I wanted to lick a stripe up his spine and spread him open, make him thrash on the sheets while I rimmed him.