Chapter Thirty-Eight
MILLER
General Manager Jackson Mills was in Coach’s office.
“Shit,” Sanchez hissed beside me. “That’s not a good sign.”
“It could be nothing,” I lied. I knew it was something. You didn’t just pull in the GM for nothing. I knew we were too good to cut, so that meant they were pissed about something.
“Gentlemen . . .” Jackson pointed to the chairs. “Have a seat. This won’t take long.” The man was a silver fox, could make money in his sleep, and had five kids by way of his equally attractive Southern belle of a wife. I liked him—a lot. But from far away, not up close; it felt like I was getting called into the principal’s office, only a hundred times worse.
Coach eyed us both and frowned. “You two getting along alright?”
“Yup.” We both answered quickly and then chuckled.
“He’s the best tight end in the league.” Sanchez shrugged. “What the hell isn’t there to like?”
“Oh . . .” Coach nodded. “So you’re gonna play it that way, hmm, Sanchez? How about the fact that you’re supposedly dating his ex-girlfriend—someone who also happens to cheer on the Bucks Squad.”
Sanchez gulped.
I felt myself completely pale as I raised a shaky hand to my face and swiped my chin.
Jackson noticed my reaction. “This affecting the team, Miller? Because according to a disgruntled player, you guys have been at each other’s throats for the past two months. We don’t want a repeat of what happened last time you decided to get serious with a woman, do we?”
“Us?” Sanchez pointed between him and me, not missing a beat. “With all due respect, sir, we’re professional athletes. Whatever shit was between us was not only handled off the field, but completely taken care of. I think my track record has proved that, I mean we have back-to-back championships.” He leaned forward. “I’m assuming Thomas is the little shit that said something, which should tell you everything you need to know. He’s pissed and trying to put the blame on drama that doesn’t even exist, drama that a few years ago he helped initiate by sleeping with my fiancé. And yet I’m the one getting called in here, seems a little . . . dramatic, wouldn’t you say, Miller?”
“Very.” My voice was hollow, my heart thudded angrily against my chest. Sanchez didn’t deserve this type of shit.
“Happy to hear it.” Coach rubbed his hands together. “You satisfied?”
Jackson nodded. “For now.”
“Great.” I stood, thanking God that it hadn’t gone worse, and had just made it out the door with Sanchez when Jackson called out.
“One more thing.”
Sanchez gulped, lowering his head and cursing before turning around and flashing a smile. “Yeah?”
“The policy still stands.” Jackson’s eyebrows rose. “You play like shit, and the first thing to go is going to be the excess baggage.”
Rage tore through me. I knew exactly what baggage he was talking about. I was seconds away from losing it when I saw a shift in Sanchez. He went from calm to completely murderous, like he was seconds away from charging both men and doing something that couldn’t be undone.
I grabbed his arm, digging my fingers into his tense biceps. God, I could feel the rage pounding through his body because it matched mine perfectly. That son of a bitch!
It was a tie between which one of us was going to slip and rip the asshole’s face off first, and I wanted dibs.
“Understood?” Jackson crossed his arms.
A muscle twitched in Sanchez’s jaw. “Not really. No.” He gritted his teeth. “I don’t understand how my relationship with a girl I love off the field has anything to do with this team.”
I sucked in a breath.
His nostrils flared as he continued. “Guess that means we better not suck—since it’s my love life on the chopping block, yeah? I wonder how the media would react to that sob story. I’d hate to slip. God, can you imagine what Jacki would do if I gave her an exclusive?
Damn, the guy had balls of steel. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stand by his side or let him go up in flames on his own.
But hell, the respect I felt for him in that moment . . .
“Watch yourself.” Jackson’s eyes narrowed.
Sanchez visibly relaxed though I was still using every ounce of strength in my right hand to keep him from lunging forward and doing something that would get him kicked off the team. “I’m just saying . . .” He grinned toward Coach. “It was a good practice today. I think I smell another championship.”
And just like that, the subject changed.
And we were back on even ground.
Jackson ran a hand through his silver hair. “You boys have done a good job so far.”
“Just wait until Sunday.” Sanchez nodded.
I let out a sigh. “Thanks for the talk, guys.”
“Miller . . .” Jackson just wouldn’t quit, would he? “You sure you want to take Sanchez’s side on this? I’d hate to see something so unnecessary cause trouble with your spot on this team.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Really?”
It was his turn to look pissed.
“Maybe you don’t get this because you aren’t a player, but he’s my brother. I bleed for him. I war for him. I die for him.” I never realized how true my words were until they were out of my mouth. “So, hell yeah I’m standing by him. I’d be a bad team member if I didn’t. Just like Jax is going to stand by him, and Elliot by Jax. That’s what a team does. We win together. We lose together. Now . . .” I clenched my teeth. “Will that be all?”
Jackson’s expression did a complete 180. “Good to hear it, Miller.” His smile was wide, friendly. “That’s the answer I was looking for.”
“This is bullshit,” Sanchez said under his breath. I could feel his arm sweating. Either that or it was my fingers.
“You’re both dismissed.” Jackson grinned wider.
When we made it out into the parking lot, Sanchez shook his head and glanced back at the building. “What the hell kind of Jedi mind training did we just get put through? Because if he refers to Em as excess baggage one more time, I’m going to prison.”
“Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t jump over the desk and smash his face in,” I admitted.
“I would have . . .” Sanchez shook his hands and snatched his keys out of his pocket. “Except some dick wouldn’t let me.”
“Hah.” I rolled my eyes. “Next time I’ll just let you kill your career, cool?”
“Did you mean all that shit?” He stared down at the keys in his hand then looked back up at me. “About bleeding? Warring?”
“Sanchez, if you hug me, I swear, I really will kill you.”
He threw his head back and laughed and then did something completely unexpected.
The dick actually hugged me.
And I hugged him back.
“Now that . . .” He slapped me on the ass and ran. “Was a moment, Miller!”
“You little shit!”
He unlocked his car, jumped in and started it, then rolled down the window. “Seriously, though, thanks for helping me keep a cool head.”
“Yeah well, I think we have a mutual girl who’s counting on you.”
His face softened. “Yeah, we do.”
“Get out of here before you start crying, man,” I teased.
He flipped me off and rolled up his window, and I smiled the entire way to my car.