12. Vegas / Knights

VEGAS / KNIGHTS

Riley

"You sure you're okay?" Mom asks for the hundredth time, but now she's pressing the back of her hand to my forehead. When I look up at her, she holds her hands up. "I'm sorry. I just?—"

Tears fill my eyes and begin to fall immediately. "Stop being sorry. Please, Mom, just stop."

Her blue eyes widen as she nods up and down. "Okay, I will. I?—"

I hate that I've made her this person with me when she's different with Luke, Jackson, and Lauren. " I'm sorry. Me. I'm so sorry."

"Sweetheart." She looks around the giant party bus and whispers, "It's okay."

Now I'm crying harder. "I don't care if they know. I don't care anymore if they judged me because I fell in love with an older man. See, I'm going to say his name. Fucking Devon. I loved him, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry I treated you like shit when I was hurting, and I really want you to stop tiptoeing, even if I say I don't. That's not how you are with my brothers and sister, and I don't want that to be how you are with me."

"You're all individuals, Riley Mae." She smiles softly.

"But they were so much better to you and?—"

"Gonna jump in here and tell you that your brother, Luke, was no piece of cake," Ava, my sister-in-law, says, and a collection of agreements fills the bus. Ava continues, "Going to add that we don't get to choose who we love. We don't choose if they reciprocate or if they don't. We have zero control over how they choose to treat us, and when we give them a second chance, and they fuck up again, we save our sanity by moving on. Right, Tessa?"

Ava's father, Lucas, and her stepmother, Tessa, were dating for four years, and their relationship was pretty toxic. They reconnected twenty years later, and they have an amazing relationship now.

"It is." She chuckles. "But Riley Mae, I'm gonna have to say, Brett is not Lucas, and like Ava, I'm going to add to my spiel. We didn't see Devon often, but when we did, he was so uncomfortable around us that I'm going to guess we never got to see the real him and what it was that you loved about him."

"He had a good ass," Mom says, doing the sign of the cross, and everyone, including me, starts to laugh.

Mom winks and wipes away my tears. Just that little bit of allowed tenderness from her makes my eyes begin to tear up again.

"I'm not finished," Tessa calls over all the chatter about Devon's ass. "Hudson Hart? Are you kidding me? What are you doing pushing that boy away? He's been in lust with your hot little ass since the day he walked into the brewery, and you and the girls were doing your drunk karaoke on Thursday nights."

"We absolutely have to bring that back," London adds.

"He'd crush me," I admit.

"Between the sheets, yeah," Mom states.

"Mom!" Lauren gasps.

"Lauren!" Mom gasps back. "I have eyes, a working libido, a husband whose body is still rock-hard in every way that counts. I want that for my girls, too. So what?"

"It's not happeni?—"

"It already did!" Freaking Lauren blurts out.

"I am going to kick your ass, Lo!"

"I knew it!" Mom calls and holds out her hand. I watch in horror as Tessa hands her a hundred-dollar bill.

"You two are freaking awful!" Ava says, laughing hysterically.

"You're in a world of hurt," I sneer at Lo.

"Quick, Lauren, spill the tea!" Mags bounces up and down, clapping her hands.

"It all started two years ago …"

Lauren spilled it all right, but the pieces of the story I've only admitted to Hudson are mine alone, and I gave them to him. It hits me like a brick to the face that I have no doubt he'll never tell a soul.

I sit with that for a long time. It's a peaceful feeling, nothing like anything I've felt in other relationships I've been in.

My thoughts and realizations often come while I'm zoned out, and there's always an invisible cloud keeping me in that moment until whatever it is I'm supposed to have learned or realized is embedded. I'm sure it's the same with most people, but I find it fascinating.

When the cloud lifts, my vision is directed in front of me, and I swear from our private box, I see Beth sitting with Hudson's family. This spurs me to do a search. It takes a minute to remember his name, but it hits pretty quickly; who could forget the name Ryder Maverick? Me, momentarily, because I'm in a Hart fog.

I find a few links to a story about Ryder hospitalizing some guys from UNLV. One article totally left out that he'd done so defending another student, while others mentioned it but also dove into his troubled past. Apparently, he didn't have a home for some time.

Ryder was initially charged with attempted murder, but it's been changed to assault with a deadly weapon, and the article explains that because he's a trained athlete, the prosecutor is saying his body is a weapon.

This enrages me, and I quickly try to find what charges the two aggressors have, but I find nothing.

But after another search of Ryder's name, I find that Beth was not overselling him when she said he was phenomenal.

I look around our suite and find Mom looking at me. I push up from my seat and head to her.

"Do you think it would be okay to ask the Harts and their guests to join us?"

"Absolutely."

I ask Dad, who's acting totally suspicious, to come with me to invite them up, and he simply lifts his chin and follows me.

I stop in front of Lucas. "I'm airdropping you a link I'd love you to watch."

"Sure thing, kiddo." He smiles.

As Dad and I make our way to the Harts, I tell him that this kid deserves a shot and ask that he look into it.

When he asks how I found him, I just look at him.

"Have anything to do with number thirteen?"

"Dad, I?—"

He raises his hand to stop me. "We'll discuss this another time. Kick-off is in two minutes."

"Are you mad?"

"You welcomed him to the family, Riley; I should have known then."

"Um, how would you when I didn't know, and I still don't. I just ended things with Brett. And I'm not even committed to seeing what happens. If things were to go bad, this is his home now; he, you, we built his mother's house. And his career." I shake my head. "I'm not messing that up for him."

"You're incapable of messing anything up; you're perfect."

I roll my eyes. "As if."

"Love all my kids, but you and I have a different bond; if I say you're perfect, you are. And if he fucks up, he's getting what he and the two dipshits before him deserved."

"That's unfair."

"So."

So, just so.

To say that Ryder Maverick was overwhelmed is an understatement. Beth was so sweet when she squeezed my hand and whispered, "Your secrets are safe with me, but sweetheart, that young man, he adores you."

When we walk into the box, Lucas and Tessa walk over and greet Ryder.

"Riley sent me a link." He holds up his phone. "This you?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"You been out of high school for three years?"

He scrubs a hand over his head. "Yeah. Got my GED."

"And then went to UNLV?"

"He's kind of a genius," his stepsister gushes, and he shakes his head. "You scored a one-sixty on an IQ test; you're a genius."

He shrugs.

"What are you doing over winter break?"

"Chillin', I suppose."

"How about you come spend some time with us and decide if football is really the direction you wanna head?"

"For real?" he asks.

"For real." Tessa smiles. "We have a couple of townhouses we keep open for guests. All three of you are welcome."

"This is an amazing opportunity,"—Beth smiles sadly—"and I know how badly he wants this, but Ryder is involved in some legal matters right now and will have to get permission."

"Ava!" Lucas yells. "Sweetheart, this is Ryder Maverick and his family. We're inviting him to Blue Valley for a bit, but he has a few hurdles to jump over to get there. You think you can help him out?"

Ava waves them over. "I can give it a try."

"She's a lawyer," I whisper to Beth.

I glance back and see Hudson's family all looking at me. When Jillian starts to smile and hides it by ducking her head into her man's chest, I roll my eyes and wave them to the seats in the front of the box.

Jillian sits beside me, grinning. "I know a secret."

"Those are good things to keep." I arch a brow. "To yourself."

Her guy chuckles.

She leans her head on my shoulder. "He adores you. Wants to put you on a shelf so no one ever hurts you."

I feel my face start to burn.

Her man leans over. "Give her some dirt on him. She owes him." He chuckles. "And not the whole stole-the-dress-thing; she already used that."

"And I know he pierced his nips, and Hudson Junior, so?—"

"He what?" I whisper-hiss.

"Oh shit." Nour chuckles.

"What did I miss?" Hudson's brother rubs his hands together as he sits on the other side of me.

"Nothing," I say.

"She didn't know little Hudson was wearing a little crown." Jillian grins.

"Hudson pierced his junk?" Roman's girl, CeCe, asks.

"Don't get any ideas," Roman whispers.

"Rome's the only one not pierced." Jillian grins and then asks, "You have accessories?"

"My ears are pierced, and that's as far as I'm going."

Lo walks over and sits down. "Hey Jillian, CeCe, boys ."

"Where are the Brooks brothers?" Jillian looks behind her.

"Luke's back there, and Jackson stayed back home. It's hunting season, and he won't come out of the woods until it's over."

"Alone?" Jillian asks.

"Grandpa Jack and Uncle John are with him," Lo answers like she knows who they are. Oddly, she does.

"And Josie is their sister, right?"

"Kick-off time," Lucas yells, and we all stand.

The stadium is packed with mostly Vegas fans, but there are also more Knoxville haters than New York Knights fans, so the tension in the stands is so thick it's almost suffocating.

It doesn't end there; it's spilled onto the field.

The defenses are brutal, and the offense on both teams have been just barely scraping by.

I'm not sure if it was the kiss, the admittance of feelings, or what it is, but seeing Hudson get pummeled is physically painful. He doesn't slow down, though; he's a fucking machine, which is a serious turn-on.

Hudson has scored, and so has Boone, but Vegas has two touchdowns, as well. I don't think I've ever seen a game where the kickers have scored more than the players until now.

We're in the final minute and down by three. I expect to see our kicker take the field to give us a chance to tie it up, but when he doesn't, I feel sick to my stomach.

We're on our own forty-yard line, and Cody has taken so many hits tonight that he's on the sidelines, and they're working on his shoulder. Another hit may fuck him up for the season.

Vegas's defense has been shutting down our running game all night, forcing Cody to rely heavily on the receivers, and it's no secret Hudson is the best.

Cody takes the snap, drops back, and eyes the field. The pocket collapses, and the pressure is on. He scrambles, looking for an opening.

"He's gotta get loose, gotta get loose!" Roman yells to him.

Just then, Hudson barrels down the sideline. Cody sees him and launches the ball. I'm sure he's overthrown it, but Hudson seems to put it in overdrive, outpacing the defenders, eyes locked on the ball.

I swear, we are all holding our breaths, watching the preferred arc, but from here, it looks impossible. He's too far back, and the coverage is too tight.

"Fuck yes!" Nour yells as Hudson leaps, stretching out his hands, and snatches the ball out of the air with one hand, his foot landing just inches from the sideline; he's barely in bounds. He takes off toward the end zone, and more Vegas defenders are closing in, but Hudson dodges, weaves, and powers through. Then he tucks the ball against him and dives across the goal line as the clock hits zero.

The stadium erupts in a deafening roar—okay, mostly boos, but whatever. Fuck them. Right now, the New York Knights have more wins than anyone in the NFC—hell, in the whole NFL.

And then … all hell breaks loose.

Knoxville fans are tossing trash on the field, dozens of them even rushing onto it, and as I turn to run out, Linda Hart, Hudson's mom, stops me. "That boy of mine would be very upset if you got hurt."

Dad calls back from the doorway, "To the Booze Bus, BV fam. We'll meet you at the airfield."

"Ryan," Mom calls after him, and he turns back. "Fuck 'em up."

We loaded up the bus with all of us, including the Harts, Beth, and her two kids. Luke is the only one of us who stayed back. And let's be honest, he's a one-man army—like, for real—so we have nothing to worry about. Nothing.

We take Beth, Ryder, and Simone to their vehicle, follow them out of the stadium parking area, and then head to the private airstrip outside of the city.

My nose is glued to my phone, watching the chaos on the field, but it seems a bit more controlled than it was when we were herded out.

London is on the phone with her sister, Brooklyn Cohen, clearly trying to keep her calm, and Tessa is on the phone with her brother, Alex, telling him what's going on and asking that he tell BVPD to increase coverage in the town and at the homes of the wives and partners of everyone who stayed back home.

"Well, shit, I was worried you'd freak out about our old man and not give Hudson a chance." She must see that I actually have no clue what she is talking about because she looks at Nour and says, "My bad."

"None of you are anything like him. You're all Linda," Nour assures her.

She still looks uneasy, and I wonder why.

But then Mom gasps, and I glance at her. "What?"

"Nothing." She shakes her head.

"I know that nothing means something," I mumble, looking at my phone and see Hudson Hart, number thirteen, throwing fists. "What are you doing?" Then he's throwing bodies of shit brown Knoxville fans, and I see him pull Beau Boone off the ground, push him behind him to Logan, and start after another pile. "Where the fuck are the police?"

"They're a little busy, sweetheart. But don't you worry; my boy's gonna take care of his team."

"Well, shit, that's hot," Mom whispers.

"Oh my God, Mom, what the?—"

"Look left. That's your daddy." She grins. "Look at those freaking guns."

Lo snickers. "Dad does have killer arms."

"Which is why we burn wood."

"Wood." Tessa giggles.

"What is wrong with the two of you?" I ask, trying not to laugh.

"The list is long." Mom smiles. "Like your daddy's?—"

"All right, Mom," Luke cuts her off. "We're happy you two are still getting it on and shit, but we don't need a play by play."

It feels like an eternity when we're all on one of the planes before the team's bus pulls onto the tarmac.

"Are you sure there's enough room for us?" Linda Hart asks again.

"The team's on the other plane. There's plenty," Tessa assures her.

Mom laughs. "This will never get old."

Tessa leans into her. "It's no John Deere, but it works."

I watch Linda's man, Zane, wink at her, and she rolls her eyes. "It's indulgent."

"It's a necessity."

Jillian laughs. "If she finds a coupon for it, she'll change her mind."

"Coupons are life," Sydney yawns out. "Mom and I clip every week."

The door to the plane starts to open, and Lucas pops his head in. "Hey baby, can I get you to change birds? We have a few concussions over here."

"Who's hurt?" she asks, standing up from her seat.

Lucas glances at Linda then quickly away.

"Is my son injured?" she asks, standing up, too.

"He and Boone are gonna be sore tomorrow, but Hart isn't the one with a concussion."

"What's wrong with him?" Jillian asks.

"He, uh, took a helmet to the nads. Gonna be okay, though."

Jillian looks at me and whispers, "Sucks to be you."

My mouth drops open. "It's not like that."

"Should be," Mom murmurs.

I curl into myself and close my eyes. "Wake me up when we get back."

"Tessa Links, let's roll. I don't wanna be here when the cops roll in."

"The cops?" I gasp.

Lucas grins. "Fuck yeah."

Ava yawns and stretches. "Who's ass am I going to be unburying tomorrow?"

His eyes shift to Linda again, and she sighs. "My son?"

"Yeah, but he didn't do anything wrong." He looks at Ava again. "Hart, Boone, Grimes, Skinner, and the new kid, the Viking? I don't know his name."

"Voss," Lo says with a smile.

"Yeah, that's it."

"Not happening, Lo," Luke growls.

Lo huffs, "Hey, get off my jock; I haven't done a thing."

Jillian snorts. "You better be careful, big brother. You hold the reins too tight, she may pull so hard she knocks you on your ass."

I pull my phone out and send Hudson a text.

Me: You were fucking amazing tonight, Hart. MVP, for sure.

Unknown: Thanks.

Me: Are you okay?

I watch as the dots bounce around then stop and start again.

I should have never sent that text , I think as I stare at the screen.

Unknown: Gonna be honest; I have no idea who this is.

I narrow my eyes and wonder how many girls send him messages like this every fucking day.

I can't do this. I just can't.

So why am I sending another message?

Me: Who do you want it to be?

Unknown: Not sure my girl would like being outed like that.

Me: You have a girl?

Unknown: Not officially, but yeah, I do.

Me: Well, until it's official, you wanna fool around?

I watch as the dots do their thing, and my anxiety does its.

Unknown: Gonna have to be more specific.

Yep, he's just who I thought he would be.

Me: I'm sure you'd really enjoy a celebratory blowjob.

As soon as I send it, I scold myself.

Unknown: You mind if I take a raincheck on that?

Me: Why?

Unknown: Because, Riley Mae Brooks, my shit got rocked tonight. Besides, I haven't even taken you on a date yet.

Me: I have no idea who this Riley person is.

I look up when the plane door opens and Hudson walks on. He doesn't look at me; he heads to his mom.

"Tessa Links mentioned you may be worried about me."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm good, Mom." He hugs her, looks at me, and gives a quick wink before stepping away.

"Just in case you're wondering, I'm good, too," Boone says, walking on, holding an ice pack on his cheek. "Tessa told us to switch planes with them. Where do you all want me?"

"Your eye," Syd gasps.

"Looks worse than it is. It'll be all good by next Sunday." He chuckles.

Jillian and Nour stand, leaving the two seats beside me empty.

"You two park it right here. We'll head to the back."

We're in the air in less than ten minutes, and the lights start to dim.

Hudson turns his body to face me and whispers, "Hey Brooksie."

I could continue pretending to be asleep, but when I wake up, I'll still have to face the fact I sent him that stupid message.

I shift to face him, and he looks me over in a way that I swear I can physically feel. "Hey."

"You off tomorrow?"

I shake my head.

"The next day?"

"We're open every day through hunting season."

"Sunday night, after the Cowboys crush Philly, I'm gonna need to celebrate all over you. So that means we're gonna have to squeeze in a date tomorrow night or Saturday, and before you tell me no, I got permission to ask."

"This is shit timing and a bad idea, Hart."

He smiles as he closes his eyes. "We'll make it work, you'll see."

There's no way to argue this right now, so I close my eyes and try to get some sleep.

"Hey Brooksie."

I open my eyes and see his are still closed.

"Fucking loved getting a text from you. Gonna need you to do that after every game."

Again, I say nothing.

"One last thing; I'm gonna find out who Boone has design all Lily's little clothes, and when this thing goes public, I want you to be the only other girl, besides my mom and Jillian, who wears number thirteen because it means something to me. Custom stuff no other person can get their hands on."

The thought of that sends a chill up my spine, and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"You're crazy."

"I told you we're going to be epic."

"You said unstoppable," I correct him.

"We're going to be all those things."