Trevor

Trevor

Ileft before Seb was even done tucking the girls in. Usually, I’d try to stick around and at least attempt to say goodbye. Not yesterday, though. Not when I thought what I did, what I daydreamed I did. And the fact that disappointment weighed out remorse for it…well, I’m starting to think maybe coming to Seattle wasn’t the best idea. That is if I don’t want to implode Erica’s life, my life, and everyone around us.

Gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, I pull into a parking spot at the stadium before turning off the engine of my Audi R8. I’m getting used to this thing, not quite sure I love it yet. My car collection is being shipped up here from Texas, and so I needed to get something for now. It’s nice, don’t get me wrong. But when I have classics like a 1969 Barracuda or a 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO, the thing kinda pales in comparison for me.

Flashes of yesterday’s fantasy pass through my head, despite how much I try to push it to the side. It didn’t even happen. It was a daydream. Obviously, I have one fucking hell of an imagination.

Shaking my head, I blow out a deep breath before hitting the side of my fist on the steering wheel. I throw open my door and get out, standing a little taller as I grab my bag and throw it over my shoulder while I make my way to the front of the building.

The thing is, even if I was willing to risk everything and shoot another shot with Erica, it would be a shot wasted. She loves Sebastian in a way that she never quite loved me. They balance each other. Even if it hurts to admit, they’re good together. He makes her happy in a way I wish I could. Like I said, Erica is the love of my life, but I’m not hers. And if you love something, set it free, right?

Well, I’ve been out here for ten fucking years trying.

I push through the front doors, striding down the long entrance hallway and heading for the locker room. I’ve been to the practice field a few times. Before we started negotiations, Coach Aberton flew me out here to check out the facilities and meet some of the guys, even though I already know most of them.

Today is our first day of practice, and a sense of peace comes over me. My personal life may be a dumpster fire when you take into account the fact that I’m in love with a married woman, my best friends are wary of me, and my parents think I’m wasting my time playing a sport instead of taking my seat at the family business. When I’m on that field, though, all of it fades away, at least for a little while.

There was a time when a career in the NFL was a very unreal fantasy. My junior year of college, I got into a car accident. A bad one. I ended up breaking my throwing arm as well as destroying my life at the time with what came after. I didn’t really have anyone for a while there, even Erica was distant, for obvious reasons, and so all I had to focus on was getting better. I worked with a private team of physical therapists, doctors, and trainers. The works. And somehow, amazingly, I was able to get drafted my senior year.

I know some of the guys are talking about retirement. Declan already did retire, technically. He’s just back for the season. Erica told me Seb’s contract is up after this season, and he’s talking about just taking time to focus on them and the kids.

The only ones who are fully in it right now are Slater and me though obviously if Scarlett gets sick again, I know he will be out of here so fast, fines be damned. Me though, I’m happy to play until my fucking arm falls off. I don’t have anyone sitting at home waiting for me. No one to talk about where I see my life going or how my day was. I can’t lie that sometimes I crave a connection like I see all my friends have with their spouses. But then all it takes is one look at Erica, one so close but so far away glance, and the ache in my chest reminds me why I don’t want to go looking for that. Because love is a fickle bitch, and you’re never guaranteed a happily ever after. I just need to focus on my rules, on this season, and take everything else with a grain of salt.

“Ohhhh shittttt,” Slater hoots when I round the corner and step into the locker room.

I can’t help but smirk at his antics. Slater and I are probably the closest these days, mainly because his wife is also one of my closest friends.

“QB 1 is officially in the house. C’mon, rooks, make some noise!” Slater shouts at the rookies in the corner while he beats on the metal lockers like a pair of drums.

They all do as he says, quick to fit in with the team. It’s not like college where we treat the lower classmen like shit or anything. Everyone has earned that jersey, and for that, they deserve respect. But some of these kids have been watching guys like Slater, Seb, Declan, and me for years. So typically there is a little bit of a shine to it for them.

“Hey, man. How ya doing?” Declan asks, coming around the corner to bump fists with me, his accent thicker than normal.

“Shit, Mikey. Knoxville made your accent real thick,” Slater says, imitating Declan’s accent terribly.

He rolls his eyes and punches Slater in the arm but doesn’t respond because that’s just Slater. Seb walks over to us in the next moment, fist bumping all the guys before he turns to face me. He doesn’t offer more than a head dip, his eyes cold and hard on me before he turns to face our friends. I try not to let it bother me. I’m sure I’ll be getting a lot of those looks this season. As long as it doesn’t come onto the field, though, what can I do?

“Uh, Mr. Michaels?” a guy who has the face of a twenty-year-old kid but the body of a truck says.

“What’s up?” I say with a head nod.

“I’m Brandon. Brandon Shuer. Fuck, this is embarrassing, but my mom wanted me to get your autograph if it’s cool.”

I can’t help but grin at that. I’ve bagged a cougar or two in my day, and though I prefer my women to be around my age, if not a little younger, there is always an exception.

“For sure,” I say as I take the pen and paper that I now see him holding at his side. I start signing it as I speak.

“So, is your mom hot? Should I jot down my number too?”

The kid grimaces, and Slater laughs while Declan tries to hold in his laugh as he shakes his head.

“C’mon, Trev. That’s the man’s mama.”

I roll my eyes at our southern mama’s boy before I hand the paper back to the kid.

“What’s your position, Brenden?”

“It’s Brandon,” he corrects.

I just stare at him flatly to which he clams up for a moment before answering.

“Left tackle.”

“Aw, so you’re gonna protect us?” Slater says with a bat of his eyes.

I can’t help but scoff at my idiot friend.

“He’s your running back. I’m quarterback. So—”

“I know,” he cuts in quickly with a serious nod. “I got you guys.”

Smirking, I nod as I clap his shoulder.

“Like the attitude. Don’t be nervous, just play your game. Oh, and probably don’t ask for any more signatures, especially not on day one of practice. Comes across a little…”

“Pathetic,” Damion, one of our wide receivers, calls out.

Not the word I would have used, but it gets the point across. The kid screws up his face like he realizes what a rook he made himself look like before I slap him on the back.

“Hey, no sweat, man. Gotta do what you gotta do for your mom.”

“Yeah,” Slater says. “Sounds like Trev would be willing to help you do a lot of things for your mom.”

The whole locker room erupts into laughter, even Brandon as he goes back over to his buddies. I get changed quickly and soon we are all making our way onto the field. Oh yeah. This is my therapy. My peace.

Once all the guys are warmed up and waiting on the turf, the coaches come in, Aberton standing front and center with his Crusaders polo, hat and black pants on. He looks every bit the NFL coach that he could, even has the premature graying at his temples to prove it.

“Alright, new season, new faces. Hopefully, you all stroked each other off in the locker room because we don’t have time for that shit here. I’m Coach Aberton. This is your coaching staff,” he says, not bothering to try to introduce the near dozen people standing behind him. “Hope you boys are ready to go all the way this year. I expect perfection out of each and every one of you.”

“Before we get started I want to introduce someone—this is Sage. She is going to be the team’s social media girl. She will be around a lot, filming you guys, doing interview questions. Participate,” he nearly threatens as a small girl comes from the back of the group, standing next to Aberton and giving everyone a tight yet polite smile.

Wolf whistles instantly sound out just from the look of her. I mean, she’s wearing a Crusaders T-shirt that couldn’t be tighter on her tits, accompanied by some black yoga pants that look as if they were made as a second skin just for her. Not to mention the bombshell sleek black hair she has accented by those fucking purple eyes.

What. The. Fuck.

I thought she didn’t know who I was? Was that bullshit? Had to have been. Not to sound cocky, but someone definitely couldn’t be working for the Crusaders and not know who I am. What a little bit—

“My daughter,” Aberton snaps, sending a venomous look to the guys who sounded off.

A hush falls over the room, and Aberton nods at that.

“Damn straight,” he says before continuing on with his orientation spiel.

“Fuck. Who’d have thought Aberton could make a smoke show like that,” I hear Damion whisper behind me, and I have to agree. Coach is not a good-looking guy by traditional standards, and Sage, well she looks even better in the daylight than she did in the dimly lit club.

I’m staring at her, unrelenting, practically daring her to look my way because once she does, she will know how royally she fucked up messing with me. I don’t fuck around at work. There has to be a separation, and I have a strict no-repeats policy. Rule number four.

So, if she thinks this is going to turn into a thing, she will be sorely mistaken. The fact that she’s Coach’s daughter changes some things. I’ll have to put her down a little easier than normal. Hopefully she doesn’t run crying to daddy over it. It’s not like Aberton will bench me, though. Even if I did eat his little girl’s pussy before letting her ride my lap. Fuck. Kinda wish I did make exceptions to my rules. Girl fucked like a porn star.

She already tried to break rule number two, at the club, so she’s definitely trouble. I’ll just have to set her straight to make sure not a single rule is in danger of being broken because of Sage Aberton.