It's rare that I see my brother. We're typically in completely different cities during training camp, the season, and during off-season he lives home in Pennsylvania, and I stay in New York. But we're still close, and our busy schedules don't stop us from regular random phone check-ins. Especially when one of us has had a good game, and Michael just had a hell of one yesterday.

"Hey there, young fella."

I always like to remind Michael how he's very much the older brother and getting older every day.

"What's up, little Gunslinger."

"Saw you out there kicking ass yesterday."

"Yeah, we're definitely on all cylinders. Something is just clicking for us right now. Feels good."

"How much harder do you want to kick me in my balls, Mikey?"

He laughs heartily through the phone. A familiar childhood sound that reminds me of so many memories. Sometimes laughing with me and sometimes at me.

"You'll figure it out. You always have."

I hope so.

"So what's this I hear about you jumping ship?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dad's feelings are hurt I think."

Oh, the money management thing.

"It had nothing to do with him or Uncle Greg."

"Then what is it? Dad does a good job of managing our careers. What would make you sign on the dotted line with an outsider? A company that dad didn't even get the chance to vet for you. We've never even heard of them."

I don't say anything at first out of embarrassment. I didn't think it totally through when I decided that I had to learn more about Sabrina White on her own territory. I mean I do really want her to find me some endorsement dollars, but that's not the primary reason I went knocking on Carson Financial's door. Truth is that I wanted to see her again. Plain and simple. I didn't actually think about how this would affect my family at the time. How it would hurt my dad's feelings.

"I know what it looks like, but trust me when I say that this has nothing to do with my opinion of Dad's management skills. I know he works hard for us, but this is a decision I made for one year, and frankly it's my decision to make."

"Defensive prick. Now I know you've done something stupid. You'd never do something so reckless like this without talking it over with one of us, which means that this probably has something to do with a woman."

Sometimes having a brother who knows me so well is a blessing and a curse.

"Mind your fucking business."

"I knew it!"

"I'm warning you, Mikey. Have you forgotten that I'm taller and bigger than you, and have been since I turned fifteen?"

"As if any of that matters. I'll kick your ass today like I always have little brother. That will never change. And by the way, threatening to do bodily harm is always your defense mechanism when someone's called you on your shit. Just confess. Who is she?"

"There is no woman."

"Well good then, because women are distractions. I should know, I've got one."

"A good one."

"That's why she's a distraction. I always want to go home, or fly her wherever I am. You'll see one day. Just not right now. When you finally meet the right girl, you're going to want your baby growing inside of her all the damn time. That shit is biological."

"That's not in the cards for me. I meet the right one every other night and that caveman shit you're talking about ... I don't believe in it."

My brother laughs even louder.

"I bet the chances of you going caveman for a woman will happen before you win a fucking game though."

My mood immediately shifts.

"You're such an ass, Mike."

"Oh stop your whining. I know it's not your fault that you've been dealt a crappy hand in New York, but at least you got a good payday out of it. And next year you can move to a team where you've got a chance of getting a ring and an even bigger check. So cry me a river would you."

"You don't understand the pressure I'm under. I've got the citizens of one of the most global cities on the planet watching me. Judging me. Expecting me to pull a miracle out of my ass every single game."

"Fans are zealous everywhere. That's football. You know what you signed up for."

"You sound like Dad."

"You're deflecting. The issue on the table is why did you sign with Carson?"

"I want better endorsements."

"You've never cared about money before. Dad cares enough for the both of us. So you're telling me that you left the one person who would make sure to get you every dollar he can possibly find for you to go with people who don't give a shit about you?"

"Did I tell you that I bought a truck? Gonna load it with gear and take Jake up to the mountains. Just like we did when we were kids. Just like we promised we'd do with each other's kids."

"All right, Saint. I'll mind my own business, but I'm telling you, Dad isn't going to let this go. He thinks someone's gotten in your head, and he isn't going to stand for someone brain washing a Stevenson."

"He's got nerve. Dad might be the actual cult leader. The Stevenson family cult. You're born into it and you can never get out."

And that's when we both finally share our first laugh of the day.

* * *

It's been eight days since I've spoken to Sabrina, and I'm starting to think of some very creative excuses for getting her on the phone. It's not until my brother's words from the other day start ringing in my head like a concussion that I realize what today's excuse will be.

"Hello, beautiful."

"Hi, Saint."

"Miss me?"

"It's only been a week."

"So you've been counting."

"How can I help you today, Saint?"

"Have you made any headway on getting me any meetings?"

"Actually, I have."

"Who?"

"During the week you have off–"

"It's called the bye week."

"Right, the bye week. I'm taking you to three meetings. I don't want to elaborate until I've confirmed the date and times but it's one sports brand, one soft drink and one luxury brand."

"Fantastic. Just the news I wanted to hear."

"Glad to be of service."

"Ooh, don't tease me like that, Miss White, or I'll come and service you right in that cubicle of yours."

She chuckles at that comment, and now I feel like Superman.

"Listen, there's one other thing."

"What might that be?"

"My father wants to meet you," I blurt out.

"What?"

"He's been my financial and career counselor for my entire life, and he wants to meet the person who wooed me away from the bosom of my loving family's protection."

"You practically stalked me and forced me into servitude. Do you actually want me to tell him that story?"

"Funny how we interpret a situation so very differently, but I guess that's what makes us work."

"Are you insane? We don't work, I work for you."

"Exactly, and I need you to keep that mindset when I finally get you into my bed. I want you to work really hard."

"I can't with you today. I'm hanging up."

"Wait."

"What?!"

"What are you wearing?"

Click.