I sat on the stoop of the cottage and held the fresh cup of coffee between my hands. I ran to the office to pick up one for Natalia while she slept. I didn’t want to wake her, so I waited here instead and watched the birds fly over the lake.

The lake was peaceful in the morning. We needed this time together. Time before we announced our engagement. Time before Natalia began rehearsals with the troupe. And for me, time before I had to start spring training. It was only a few weeks away.

I took another sip and thought about what was in front of us. I thought about my season and how far I’d come with the Wranglers. We may not have won back-to-back titles, but I had outperformed my rookie statistics. If it hadn’t been for Natalia though, I don’t know if it would have happened.

Maddie had screwed me over. I was convinced that I’d never date another woman during football season because of her. That was until I met Natalia. She was patient with me when no one else would have put up with my shit.

She shared herself so willingly, so easily, that I trusted her. It was the trust I needed to get over the fear that she’d leave. I was terrified she’d walk out like Maddie did. And it was the fear that got in my head—not the woman. It was the fear that distracted me. The fear that kept me off focus. I was a fucking idiot. I had trust issues and didn’t know it. I could have lost the best thing that happened to me because of it.

I heard the door creak and I turned around.

“Good morning.” She smiled. The sheet was draped around her shoulders. Fuck. She was still naked. “Can I join you?”

I scooted to the side. “I got coffee for you.” I handed her the cup as she settled in next to me.

“Thank you.” I watched as she inhaled the steam. “It’s so quiet this morning.”

“The opposite of last night.” I winked.

She whipped around. “Holy shit.”

“What?” I followed her eyes.

“Our windows were open?”

“Yeah. I wanted to hear the lake. I might need to jog back to the office for a refill.”

“The entire time? The windows were open since we got here?”

“So I aired out the place? It was stuffy. There’s not a single person here. And you’re the one sitting outside practically naked.”

“No one except the little old couple in the office.”

I laughed loudly. “Now you’re modest?”

She smacked me on the chest. “Do you think they heard us?”

“Have you tried to have a conversation with them? They both wear hearing aids. I think your double sex life is still safe.” I winked at her.

“It’s not a double life.” She pursed her lips together.

I kissed her on the cheek. She was cute when she was pissed at me. “So, how does the rock feel this morning?”

She extended her hand and her frown was replaced with a beautiful smile. “Unreal.”

“I’ve had that ring for two months, trying to decide when the right time to propose was.”

“Two months?” She studied the rainbows bouncing around the porch.

“I thought it might be at the Super Bowl.” I didn’t want to think about what a punch to the gut our season was. “But I knew that wasn’t the right time, even if we had made it.”

“And how did you know yesterday was it? What if they had rejected me and I was a crying mess? Would you have still done it?”

“That wasn’t going to happen. There was no way they weren’t going to offer you the position. I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked the past few months. You’ve thrown everything into ballet. You were meant for this, Natalia.”

She pressed a sweet kiss to my mouth. “I think I was meant for something else too.”

My eyebrows rose.

“For you. I’m meant for you.”

There was an instant pang between my ribs. I had done a lot of wrong things in my life. I’d made some shitty decisions and paid the price. But I didn’t know what I did to deserve this woman. This woman who could take me to my knees and then send me higher than a fucking kite. This woman who made dirty seem right, and love seem even better.

I had gone down on one knee yesterday, praying like a little kid that she’d say yes. That she’d join me in this crazy life I had. That she’d put up with my bad habits and my insane schedule. That she’d overlook the microscope I lived under as a celebrity. That she’d embrace my culture and realize we’d never live in Paris. That more than anything she would accept how much I loved her and wanted to protect her. I’d never had instincts like this to cherish someone. It felt natural to want to keep her close. I wanted her to be safe and happy, and nothing was more important.

She sighed over my shoulder. “How long do we get to stay this time?” she asked.

“I might have checked with the troupe ahead of time.”

“Oh?”

I nodded. “Sure did. And you have about ten days before they need you in Austin. So what if we spend three or four days here?”

“Are you serious?”

“Sound good?” I already knew the answer before she said anything. Her face was elated.

“It’s the best engagement present ever.”

“It gives us some time before everyone finds out. Before the media circus begins.” I was dreading that part, but it came with the territory of being a professional athlete.

“I thought maybe when everyone found out we were dating the fascination would have been over.”

I shook my head. “Have you seen you?” I eyed the dip at her breasts where the sheet was starting to come undone. “They will never want to stop taking pictures of you. I don’t think they care about me so much anymore.”

She giggled. “Not true. I see how the girls look at you.”

“Jealous?”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Maybe a little.”

I grabbed the edge of the sheet to test how tightly she was holding. It fell off her shoulders.

“Sam,” she warned me.

I licked my lips. I wasn’t going to stop there. Natalia was mine. My fiancée. My love. My life. And soon she would be my wife. I had to make the most of this honeymoon preview.

“If you don’t want that little couple to see what I do to make those sounds come from your gorgeous lips, you better get inside.”

“You wouldn’t.” She looked incredulous.

“Wouldn’t I?” I winked.

She scampered up the stairs, gathering the sheet around her waist, and ran inside with laughter. I dropped my coffee and pounced after her.

Natalia had taught me something the first night we met and it was a lesson I wouldn’t forget. No matter what—never let her get away.

* * *

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Sometimes people are wrong. They’re wrong about what the score will be at the end of the game. They’re wrong about what route to run. They’re wrong about who they can trust. And fuck it, they’re wrong about people. Wrong about love. I used to be one of those people. Cynical. Egotistical. Selfish. But all it takes is one second. One split second of your life when you think you’ll lose everything. And suddenly it comes into focus. Faster than I take a snap. Faster than I read the defense. I can see all of it. I can see it being ripped away. In a split second all of it can be ruined. There could be a life where she doesn’t exist. Where the mistakes push her away.

They are wrong about me. And the thing about me is I love to prove people wrong.

* * *

It was hot as shit on the practice field. The September sun beat down on everyone. It didn’t discriminate between million dollar players or the trainers who took home fifty thousand a year. It was brutal and unrelenting, reminding all of us what it meant to play football in Texas.

Ownership promised we would have an indoor facility soon with air conditioning, but that didn’t do a damn bit of good when my linemen were cramping up on the field and I could barely see from the sting of sweat rolling in my eyes.

I gripped the ball between my fingers, digging into the leather with my nails while the sideline crew ran out to squirt water in the players’ mouths. I didn’t see what good an ounce of water was going to do in this heat, but I waited anyway.

Our rookie tight end, James, walked up to me. “What did you think of that last play?”

“I think it sucked.” I held my helmet under my arm and squirted water on the back of my neck.

I could see him huffing as hard as the rest of the team and he was twenty-two—the youngest guy out here.

“I’ve been asking for pointers since July,” he started.

I didn’t want to hear his excuses or anyone else’s. If you played for the American Football Association, you better have the balls to back it up. James was a top draft pick. He was new to the league, the process, and me.

“You want advice? Get out there and catch the fucking ball when I throw it.” I slammed my helmet over my head, clamping it against my forehead. “Is there anything else you need to know?”

He shook his head, running to the line of scrimmage. I didn’t take on projects, and I sure as hell didn’t take rookies under my wing. They had to learn just like the rest of us had.

This game wasn’t built on kindness. It wasn’t built on friendship. It was built on that scoreboard. When the clocked ran down to zero the only thing that mattered was what number was next to the Warriors’ name. Make catches. Block punts. Tackle the runner. That was their job. If they needed me to tell them how to do that, they didn’t belong on my team.

The Austin Warriors were one of the league’s original teams. You either hated or loved us. There wasn’t a lot of gray area with AFA fans. There were families in the stadium on Sundays who had handed their seats down for three generations.

We were a legendary team. A team with deep roots. A team with history.

Warrior football was everything to this town. And that made me the fucking general. The commander of this army.

I yelled, scattering the conditioning team. “If you want to get the hell out of this heat, let’s finish this practice.”

I could see I wasn’t the only one. The linemen weren’t tolerating the heat. Droplets of sweat beaded on their noses as they took their positions for the snap. We had two more plays to run. Only two. If I could make it through, I could soak in an ice tub for an hour and put this hellish practice behind me.

I could forget the imprint the sun had burned on my forearms. Forget I practiced for the third day in a row hung over. There was too much bourbon last night. I could still taste it in my mouth. The way my tongue was thick. But that was part of the Luke Canton package. I did whatever the hell I wanted at night, but I performed on the field the next day.

I called out the next play, took the snap, and threw the ball long into the end zone. I nodded at James. He caught it square in the chest. It was a perfect spiral.

No one wanted to be out here. It wasn’t glorious or glamorous. It fucking sucked running drills in a hundred-degree heat.

Twenty minutes later I was in the practice facility locker room climbing into a tub of ice. The trainer added another bucket of cubes as I slid my feet to the bottom of the floor.

“How’s that, Luke?” he asked.

“Just keep dumping it in until I say quit.”

The ice was melting against the blistering patches of skin I immersed under the surface. It was both painful and a relief. It was the shock I needed to erase the last fragments of my headache.

I started to settle in, trying to adjust my huge frame to the confines of the tub. It was hard to fit all of me in this cramped space. My dark hair was stuck to my head. I scooped a handful of the ice water and dumped it on my scalp, and shook the water from my ears.

“Canton!”

I whipped my head around. “What?”

“Coach wants to see you.”

I glared at the tight end assistant coach. “Tell him I’m doing a cool down.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t care. Wants your ass in his office now.”

“Damn it,” I muttered. I considered refusing to leave, but the assistant coach waited in the doorway. I pulled one icy leg and then the other out of the tub and dripped across the tile. I wrapped a towel around my waist, tucking the corner against my hipbone and pushed through the locker room door.

I knocked on Coach Applewhite’s door and walked inside.

His eyes pinched together. “Luke, you couldn’t put any clothes on?”

I stared down at my body. There was a puddle of water at my feet. “I was in cool down, but was told you couldn’t wait. This is what I had on. I can come back,” I offered.

To his right was Mr. McCade. I straightened my back. I had been too pissed at Coach to notice that the owner of the Warriors was in the office.

It was no secret that Coach and I didn’t agree on much. We tried to stay out of each other’s way off the field as much as possible. It usually worked. Until now.

“Since you’re here, why don’t you sit?” Coach nodded toward the couch.

Mr. McCade was easily in his seventies, but none of us knew for sure. What we knew was he was a cheap bastard. He wanted the best team in the league, but wasn’t willing to pay for the facilities or the equipment we asked for. He wanted high dollar players, but negotiations could drag on for weeks. I didn’t have a lot to say to the man. He was my employer, but I wasn’t a fan.

One sweep around Coach’s office and you could see what the McCades thought about funding the management offices. The place looked like it hadn’t been updated since 1985. A row of play manuals lined the bookcase above his desk. There were a few framed family pictures scatted on the top shelf along with a team photo from three years ago. They all needed dusting.

“All right. What can I do for you, Coach? Mr. McCade?”

“I’m going to skip over the inspirational coach’s speech and get to the point.”

“Sounds good to me.” I stared at both of them with eyes just as cold as theirs.

Applewhite sighed. “We’ve got a problem on the team.”

“Yeah, guys are passing out left and right because they’re out of shape, it’s one-hundred twenty degrees out there, and rookies don’t know their routes,” I snarled. “What’s the status on the new indoor practice field?”

“Luke, we’re not here to talk about facility expansion. I’m not talking about the other guys. I’m talking about you.”

I sat there in my towel, waiting to hear what league infraction I had collected this time. Because it wasn’t the first time they had drug me in here with threats about my behavior. I’d gotten the speech fifty times to stop drinking. To stop picking up women. To stop speeding. To stop using my celebrity status to get favors. The thing was I didn’t give a shit. I lived my life the way I wanted and as long as I gave them results every Sunday, they could fuck off.

Mr. McCade cleared his throat before reaching into his suit pocket and retrieving a photograph. “Do you know this young lady?” He slid it across the coffee table.

I picked it up. Pretty girl, but I’d never seen her before. “Nope.” I tossed it on the pile of sports magazines covering the flimsy white wood table.

“That’s not what she claims. She accosted me this morning outside of my home. It was a surprise, especially to my wife.”

If McCade wanted me to feel sorry for him, he didn’t know what it was like living with paparazzi. I couldn’t buy gas without reporters asking for a statement. No sympathy here.

“So?”

“So,” Coach intervened. “She claims you got her pregnant.”