Chapter Nineteen
MILLER
I felt guilty.
I’d slept like shit, and it showed during practice. I was caught unaware by both Xander and Elliot, two rookie defensive ends, and it was more than embarrassing when Xander took my helmet off.
“Miller!” Sanchez yelled. “What gives?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Tired. No excuses.” I eyed Jax. “Can we go again?”
He nodded, and I ran my route, this time blocking and turning for a catch. I was the last option—a good one—but typically my job was to make sure that Jax had enough time to get shit done.
I caught it.
Our offensive coach, Merill, motioned me forward. Great. I wasn’t ready to get my ass chewed out because I’d been texting Emerson for ten minutes, only to stare at my own ceiling for three hours unable to sleep because I kept imagining Sanchez kissing her. Not that he’d know that. I only had myself to blame, right? I was flirting with danger.
And I couldn’t stop.
I’d texted her a few more times this morning, asking her about practice and her day. Shit. I was an idiot.
“What’s up?” I pulled off my helmet.
Merill tapped me on the temple. “Everything okay up here?”
“Yeah, Coach.” I shook him off. “You know how it goes. Jet lag.” Really? Still? It was bullshit and he probably knew it.
He nodded knowingly. “I want your head in this, alright? You’re a leader. People look up to you. Between you, Sanchez, and Jax, I have some of the best players in the league, but even the best players have shit for brains when it comes to their mental and emotional health. I need you okay here . . .” He pointed to my head again. “So you can be the greatest out there.” He jabbed his finger at the field. “Now, tell Jax we’re running the play again, and this time, block like you mean it, son.”
“Yes, sir.” I jogged off and threw my helmet on.
We ran that same play until I could do it in my sleep.
I was so sore from blocking that I was actually looking forward to the ice bath that usually came after practice. I could even get on board with the trainer massaging my legs out.
Coach was right.
My head needed to be in the game.
And that shit started now.
I needed to unpack.
This was my home now.
And even though I was still exhausted from practice, I knew if I didn’t stay busy, I’d just text Emerson again.
And if just texting her was distracting enough to throw me off my game, then I knew if I kept doing that and going any further, stepping over any more lines, who knew what that would do to me during the season. Maybe the coaches were right about that whole no-fraternization policy.
A loud knock sounded on my door, and I nearly tripped over a box to get there before the pounding fist took down the entire structure. “What?” I jerked open the door; Sanchez was just about to knock again, his grin huge. It was hard to stay pissed at him when he looked so . . . friendly. The guy had killed it out on the field today again too, and encouraged me to shake it off when I wanted to slam my hand into Xander’s face after getting hit again.
“Well, good evening to you too!” he shouted. Why was he shouting?
“Huh?”
“Let’s go.” He tugged my arm. “I decided to have a party. And I invited women. You do know what those are, right? Curves in all the right places, gorgeous bodies you can’t wait to sink your . . .” He stopped talking and winked. “You know.”
“I’m exhausted,” I said honestly as he continued pulling me toward his door. “And I played like shit.”
“Your shit is another man’s best game of his life, just sayin’.” Sanchez shrugged. “Now, go drink and try not to bark at the girls. Biting, however, is completely allowed.”
He pulled me through my door and pushed me toward his.
Soft music bumped from his surround sound system, and every food imaginable was on his main dining room table, along with enough alcohol to get our entire building drunk.
Most of my teammates were there. Jax was in the corner looking pissed as hell, and Thomas was taking shots.
Yeah, tomorrow was going to be a rough one for Thomas.
I didn’t recognize the girls surrounding a few of the rookies, but I did recognize Kinsey as she approached her brother and started throwing her hands in the air like she was ready to slap him across the face.
I didn’t know her well. But I did know Jax, and I’d never seen him look so pissed in my entire life. Who knew the guy even got angry?
I grabbed two beers from the cooler and made my way over to them before she took his head off.
She stormed away just as I made it to him.
Wordlessly, I handed him the beer.
He took it without looking at me then gulped half of it down before saying, “She’s making me lose my hair.”
I almost spit out my own drink, barely managing to swallow before I laughed. “What?”
“My hair.” Jax didn’t take his eyes from her. “I think I found a bald spot. I blame her.” He took another drink. “I also never drink during the season.”
“Still technically preseason.”
“And now she’s turning me into an alcoholic.”
“It’s half a beer.”
“Right, and it’s going to take at least another six in order for me to forget the fact that about five minutes ago she was dancing on one of the tables because Sanchez made a bet with her and she lost.”
“What kind of bet?”
“Oh, Sanchez bet that he could get Emerson to kiss him in front of everyone, and she did. Loser had to dance on the table. Kinsey was the loser. She could have said no. Sanchez and I have an understanding, you know?”
My body buzzed with anger and awareness as Emerson’s laugh rang out. She launched her fist into the air in triumph and started doing a little dance while Sanchez pretended to pout next to her.
“Again!” she shouted, grabbing a deck of cards.
“What are they playing?”
“Indian poker.” Jax sighed, “I’ve never seen Sanchez so obsessed. I’d say it was pathetic, but it’s kind of nice to see a side of him that isn’t constantly screwing anything with a pulse, especially after everything with his ex.”
I needed a subject change, and fast. I didn’t want to like Sanchez, and yet I was viewing him as a friend and not a potential enemy for chasing the one girl I could never forget.
“Holy shit, is that the bald spot?” I pointed to Jax’s ear.
He spit out a mouthful of beer and touched his head. “Seriously?”
I grinned. “Sorry, I had to.”
“Jackass. See if I pass to you ever again.” He smirked.
“You need me.” I folded my arms and laughed. “Admit it.”
“You’re still a jackass.”
Kinsey glanced over at us, then smiled at me before glaring at her brother again.
“I hate that she hangs out with the players.” He downed the rest of his beer. “But the more I argue the worse she gets. It’s almost better not to say anything, you know?”
“Yeah.” I eyed a laughing Emerson. “I do.”
Jax elbowed me. “Lusting after another teammate’s girl?”
I knew he said it in teasing.
And I had a hell of a time not confessing everything right there, so instead I shrugged. “We went to high school together.”
“Was she that hot in high school?”
“She’s hotter now. All woman,” I admitted.
Emerson threw her head back and laughed as blonde hair whipped down her back. Her black leggings were paired with a gray beanie and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt that made my mouth water. Her shoulders had always been one of my favorite things, and like a freak I was staring at them as if she’d actually let me lick them . . . touch them . . .
I swallowed the dryness in my throat and looked away, but not before catching her gaze. It said all the things that she never said out loud.
And it killed me.
Yeah, I needed another beer—now.
I made my way back over to the drinks. Kinsey was pouring herself a glass of wine and still glaring at her brother from across the room.
“If looks could kill.” I smiled.
“Sorry.” Her face fell. “He’s just so . . .” She made a fist. “Overprotective.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but he’s your big brother. He’d probably lock you in a closet if it was legal.”
Her lips twitched. “You think he hasn’t tried it?”
“Let me guess. You escaped with nothing but a bobby pin and feminine wiles?”
“How’d you know!” Her eyes widened in shock, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Seriously, I think my only hope is to get him laid.”
I tilted my head. “And how are you going to manage that?”
“Well, I was going to force Emerson into slave labor, not that it would be a hardship. Jax has an eight-pack and would worship her, but it seems Sanchez already peed all over her, so . . .” She shrugged. “I need to find fresh meat.”
I gripped my beer bottle so hard my fingers ached. “Sanchez and Emerson.” Why? Why was I setting myself up like this? Again? “Did they hit it off right away or what?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you ask her?”
“It’s not my business.”
“And it’s not mine either.” She smiled sweetly.
“Well-played.” I knocked my drink against hers, but not before she sent a fleeting look toward Sanchez. I would have missed it had I not recognized it right away because it was the same damn look I wore every freaking day. “How long?”
“What?” Her head whipped around so fast I was surprised it didn’t come clean off and land in the chip bowl. “How long what?”
“Have you been in love with him?” I sighed knowingly while she started gulping down more wine than I’d seen a cheerleader gulp, ever.
When she came up for air, I grabbed the glass out of her hand and set it on the table, then replaced it with a water bottle.
“Thanks,” she mumbled. “And it doesn’t matter. My brother would kill him, literally. I’m not talking kill, as in he’d have a talk with him then punch him in the face. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that Jax would rip his head off and feed it to his iguana.”
“Jax has an iguana?”
“That’s what you take from this conversation?”
“But it’s an iguana,” I pointed out.
“It’s Sanchez’s head.”
Point, Kinsey.
“I hate to admit it, but you’re right. I’d never seen Jax angry until tonight, watching you flirt.”
“Right.” She grinned. “So, flirt with me and piss him off more.”
“No deal.” I took a step back and held up my hands. “As much as I like iguanas—favorite pet in the third grade, by the way—I don’t really feel like getting fed to one, head or no head. You understand, right?”
“Where’s your sense of adventure!”
“Adventures are for people who don’t play football. I got all I need here, and, oh look, I even get to keep my head. Amazing, right?”
“Boo.” She gave me a thumbs-down and then tilted her head. “Okay, I have another idea.”
“Wow and so soon. Imagine that.”
She burst out laughing and took a step toward me. “Whisper in my ear something stupid, at least give me that much to go off. If he storms over here, I win two of your tickets to the first game to sell online. If you win, I’ll help you find a girlfriend who doesn’t just want a free NFL ride, and believe me, the world is full of bitches like that. Just ask Sanchez.”
“I’m not interested.” I shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Fine, then what do you want?”
Emerson.
My eyes betrayed me.
And hers widened a bit before she let out a sigh. “Wow, we’re a pathetic duo, aren’t we? Maybe we should just get together.”
“Something tells me our hearts wouldn’t be in it. No offense, because you’re gorgeous, and I’m pretty sure even prettier naked.”
She put a hand to her chest. “Sweetest thing a football player’s ever said to me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Fine.” She looked over her shoulder. “So just do it for me, for your new friend?”
“Is that what this is? The start of a new friendship? I didn’t know you were in the market.”
“I know you are.”
Yeah, she had me there.
“Fine.” I took a step toward her and whispered in her ear. “Friends.”
Jax came stomping over two seconds later, his face red as a beet.
“Brother . . .” Kinsey looped her arm in his. “Miller here just agreed to be my friend in a platonic non-sexual way that guarantees I won’t be having any one-night stands in the near future. Wasn’t that sweet of him?”
Jax visibly relaxed. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
“You’re too easy, man.” I smacked him on the shoulder. “Lighten up, or you’re going to be bald and on heart medication before forty.”
“Yeah, bro.” She patted his cheek. “Lighten up. Now, why aren’t we taking shots?”
She bounced off.
Jax groaned.
“Better follow her.” I laughed at his horrified face and then locked eyes with Emerson.
She’d been watching us.
And because I knew her, knew her inside and out, I knew that look.
She was pissed.
And she was jealous.
Point, Miller.