NOAH
CURRENT DAY – CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
My team had fallen in the conference championship game, and the rumors were already starting to heat up. The Super Bowl had come and gone, the victor being one of my biggest rivals, and a quarterback I was often compared to. I fucking hated it all. My team should have been the one with the parade through town, and it should have been me at Disney World celebrating something I promised to bring to this city on the day I was drafted as the number one overall pick.
Most pundits had bemoaned the pick, even going as far as to call me a potential bust. I showed them all that I wasn’t some flash in the pan. Until I hit this level of competition, I didn’t even know what it was like to lose. My high school and college teams had won numerous state and national championships. My stats were the best in the league at my position, and I was all but assured of another consecutive MVP award. None of that mattered when it wasn’t me and my team hoisting the trophy in early February, though.
I’d had plenty of time to lick my wounds and get the sour taste that defeat left out of my mouth, only to now have to hear and see the various sportscasters trying to predict whether I would be traded this offseason or not. There was a salary cap in place, and with the monster deals that both Romeo and I recently signed, it meant others had to pay for those contracts. A national analyst who had never played a single snap in his life had made it his mission this offseason to talk about my potential trade every day this week. It was so convincing that I had even called Gabriel myself.
“Is there something I don’t know?” I had asked Gabe.
“About?”
“Word is that I’m being traded ? —”
“You have a no-trade clause in your contract. I would ignore the rumors and hearsay. You know how those talking heads like to get shit started for clicks and ratings.”
“I know, I know.”
“Go to Miami, and enjoy yourself this week. The concert is in a couple of days, and I’ve already forwarded you your tickets.”
“I’m going, but please promise me that you’ll let me know if anyone even approaches you about one.”
“I will, Noah. I’ve got your back.”
“I know you do,” I had told him, then disconnected the call.
It was actually quite strange that I was even going on this trip considering it would be only Daxon, Romeo, and me going this time. Back in the day, Gabriel and Callum would also join us, but the two men had found women of their own. Everything seemed to change at that point, but I knew regardless of relationship status, they would have my back as they always had, and I would do the same for them.
Harper Grimes and Nicole Courtland were beautiful women, and both men were lucky to have them. Gabe and Harper had been destined from the start, but their road hadn’t always been easy. I grew up with those two, as well as Charlie Mitchell. The four of us had once been thick as thieves, and on some days, we might still be. That time wasn’t now, though. It was actually funny because this time last year, all five of us were single. Now, the running joke between us was regarding which one would fall next. I sure as hell didn’t plan for it to be me.
Of course, no one actually planned for these things. I doubted Gabriel ever thought a ghost from his past would return and tip his life upside down. And Callum couldn’t have known a one-night stand in Costa Rica would show up in his classroom a few weeks later and have him falling head over heels. If any of the rest of us were to fall like that, it would have to be Daxon. The psychiatrist was older than both me and Romeo, and it just seemed as if he would end up committing to someone next. As long as it didn’t rub off on me, I wouldn’t care.
As a Titan, I enjoyed the stature I got from the title alone. Add in the fact that I was one of the most recognizable faces in all of Chicago sports, and the chicks ate it up like candy. I liked being able to date whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and not have to worry about a family, especially during the season. I couldn’t count how many teammates spent most of their free time outside of meetings, practice, and games either talking to, or sneaking off to visit, their wives.
“It seems like someone is whipped,” guys like Romeo and me would say.
It was all in good-natured fun, though. I just preferred my fun to be spent a different way, such as the type I was about to embark on. There were multiple Titans within our circle in Chicago, but I mainly hung out with a small knit group of them. Some of the others were younger, but most were older, and there were also some similar in age to me that I just couldn’t vibe with. That would be why I tended to spend my time around my dysfunctional group. It used to be a quintet, but a trio wasn’t bad either.
“Do we have the yacht again this year?” Romeo asked as he walked into the room.
“I got all the reservations handled,” Daxon chimed in before I could respond.
“Then it sounds like we should head south soon,” I added.
Each year, we would take advantage of a super yacht Daxon had inherited from his grandfather. Robert Faulkner was an oil tycoon, and when he retired to Florida, he had purchased a hundred and twenty one foot luxury yacht that slept up to twelve guests comfortably in its six cabins. It also had room for a handful of crew members, and quarters for them to sleep in as well. The vessel itself was built in Italy, and had undergone a full modernization since arriving on Terminal Island.
The flybridge was spectacular, and one of my favorite places to be when entertaining. It had a full bar under shade, which was definitely necessary in that humid, Florida heat. There was also a pool and jacuzzi on the top deck which saw plenty of action, mostly after everyone had a few drinks in them. We never had a shortage of women, and it wasn’t unheard of for me to play with three or four in the hot tub at once. The last part of the outside of the ship was a seating area where we would eat, drink some more, or even play cards.
Inside, there was an actual lounge, along with another full bar, and a dining room. There was a home theater, a large great room, and even a game room fully equipped with a pool table, darts, and foosball. It was a bachelor’s dream, and something we used whenever in South Beach. When not on the yacht, we could be found in Robert’s penthouse condo. It was dubbed as one of the ultimate addresses in all of Miami, the skyscraper a towering figure along the southernmost tip of South Beach in the South of Fifth neighborhood.
Daxon had thought about selling it at one time, and I had been prepared to buy it myself. He ultimately decided to just keep it, and we often made use of it as well when in the state. Winters in Chicago sucked, but the same couldn’t be said about South Florida. The two places were like night and day this time of year, but when summer arrived, both were the same sweltering level of hell.
“You guys could come with your girls,” Romeo had told Gabriel and Callum last night as we’d gathered at the Vault for a guy’s night out.
“It’s not quite Spring Break yet, so Nicole and I both have school,” Cal had told us.
“And for me, this year’s free agency is going to be unlike any I have been part of before. There are so many contracts to rework. Thank fuck that I got the two of you squared away last year,” Gabe had told us, specifically talking to Romeo and me.
I certainly didn’t envy his position. Last year, it had been horrible seeing my name and picture splashed across the screens on every sports cast there was. Words like “greedy,” “overrated,” and “selfish” were attached to my picture, and no one had ever thought our team could keep both its MVP quarterback and all-pro running back, but Gabriel had managed to make it all happen. The complaining seemed to die down then, but with our early playoff loss, those same asshats were now questioning whether it was better to trade me. I didn’t mind playing in other stadiums, but Chicago was my home.
Being born and raised in the city, I had spent my entire life here. I loved the glitz and glamor of New York City and Hollywood, as well as the weather in Miami, but I could never imagine living in any of those places full-time. Most athletes dreamed of playing for their childhood teams, so to be able to do that, the very idea that I could be sent off to another team was worrisome.
Gabriel had assured me that there was nothing to worry about when it came to those rumors, and it did make me feel a bit better, but general managers and owners could make life very difficult for me if they wanted me to go, and I instead dug my heels in to stay. Other than my agent, no one else understood the stress that I was under other than my fellow Titan, and favorite offensive target on the field. Romeo made my life easier on game day, and he was irreplaceable in my book.
“Earth to Noah,” that same teammate said, and I looked up at him.
“What?”
“Are you ready, man?” Daxon asked.
I nodded, then grabbed the handle of my suitcase. The three of us left my condo, and we headed to the airport. One would think that one of us would have a private plane, but alas, we did not, so a first-class commercial flight was our current mode of transportation. Romeo currently had a chopper, but he never took it long distances, and no one could blame him for that. Seeing as he had also just gotten his pilot license a few months earlier, it was safer to just fly commercial.
Getting through the airport was a struggle, and it made me want to look into purchasing a jet of my own. Last year, Gabe had gotten me a monster contract extension, so it was a possibility. Buying my own condo down in Miami was, too. I chose to stop thinking about planes and to something more attainable in the short term. Daxon had inherited one hell of a place on South Beach which was minutes from all the popular beaches, illustrious shopping, and gourmet restaurants.
The building itself was designed with luxury in mind, and every designer detail was impeccable. The views were amazing, and the unit had any amenity you could imagine. There was even a huge gaming room, although that had been installed by my friend, and not his grandfather. I loved to play Madden with the guys, and of course, I already knew who would always quarterback my team. The kitchen was immaculate, as was the sleek infinity pool I had used to my benefit more than a few times over the last couple of years. From the high-end finishes to wrap around balconies, the place had it all.
As my mind continued to flash with visions of last year’s party, an idea popped into my head. I turned to Daxon. “What do you think about a party on land, then one off shore? We’ll be there a week, and?—”
“I’ve already considered that, and the staff is stocking up both, boat and condo, with everything we’ll need. I say we hang out at the latter tonight, then head to the boat tomorrow. I have quite the rager planned for it, and something else, too.”
“Something else?” Romeo questioned, and the dark-haired man smirked.
“One of the Cuban rappers wants to use the boat for their next music video, and we’ve been asked to be a part of it.”
“A music video, huh?”
It wouldn’t be the first time we had been in a video, commercial, or a television show. I had even had a brief cameo in a movie or two over that time. Memories of me and a redhead actress had me smiling. Allison Porter might be America’s Sweetheart now, but for one night in New York City, she had been a freak in the sheets. It had been a minute since I had last seen her, and I decided to see who was on the star-studded guest list. I might have to look her up if she made the cut.