Chapter 4
FOUR
REED
My heart remembered what it felt like when Storm broke it. And she was still so beautiful that it physically hurt to look at her.
The fact that Storm Summers was even more attractive now that she wasn’t hiding her true intelligence didn’t come as a shock to me.
I had always known she was smart, irrespective of how she acted through high school and college.
She’d toned down the airhead act during those latter years, as she’d had to.
You didn’t major in psych if you were stupid; it just wasn’t possible.
That adjustment had also allowed some of her vulnerabilities to show.
When I’d first met Storm in high school, she’d always been viewed as royalty, but I saw through all her bullshit and easily latched on to her poor little rich girl insecurities.
Storm in business dress was almost my undoing. She easily pulled off that sexy secretary vibe, although her hair had been scraped back so tightly, I was surprised it didn’t interfere with the blood flow to her central lobe.
I loved her comment about dumbing shit down for me. The way she used to try to cut me down to size had always been a huge turn-on. Even in high school, Storm was super intelligent, yet had hidden that behind her rich-bitch facade.
And now she was no longer Daddy’s pampered princess. Storm had made something of herself and had carved out a career. Admirable, considering she never had to work a day in her life if she didn’t want to.
Finding her sexy ass on the floor had done things to my insides, I’m not going to lie.
I’d always liked my Teacup on her knees, especially when she had my cock in her mouth.
Fuck me, Storm gave the most amazing head, and we both shared a variety of sexual fetishes.
We were in tune with our sexual needs, always had been, always would be.
I saw that telltale sign when her pupils had blown wide from my innuendo.
Once she was on her feet again, it was all business.
At least, she wanted it to be, but she couldn’t hide her true feelings.
I still affected her, and the realization of that fed the monster in me.
It wasn’t over between us. I didn’t know what shape our future would take, but there was still shit left unsaid.
I’d acted like an asshole but was well-behaved, under the circumstances.
I smiled as I thought about how she’d sat so primly at her computer, those long, slender fingers punching away at the keys.
Storm had side-eyed me with suspicion, like she was expecting shit to go sideways at any second.
If I hadn’t been biding my time, she would have been right to have shown such concern.
After my ‘introduction session’ with the sexy teams’ shrink, the rest of the week was just as relentless. I didn’t have time to dwell on my plans for Storm and me.
I was introduced to the management of the franchise before the team, and both sessions were strained; shit loads of differing versions of laying down the law with a side dish of toe-the-fucking-line or you’re out.
Fellow players who had experienced a trade before had given me a heads-up that making your mark when you first moved to a new team was never easy.
Depending on camaraderie in the ranks, teammates were either happy with who you’d replaced or held that shit against you.
I was in a winning situation. It appeared that Mario Luthor, the player I was traded with, wasn’t held in as high regard by the team as the fans.
So, half of them had welcomed me with open arms from day one: after laying down the law about my future behavior, of course.
It wasn’t so bad. Apart from the color of the jersey, I didn’t feel that different.
Football was football, no matter where you played it.
Thankfully, no one had my number, and so I was allowed to keep it.
Forty-Seven: I was attached to it; it was my legacy, having had it since high school.
At least I managed to keep something familiar with me.
In respect of my family, Ma invited us all for supper one evening, and I went over to the house. It felt good, shooting the shit, and my mother’s meatloaf had never tasted better.
I eventually completed the paperwork Storm had given me on Monday. I took my sweet time, of course, dropping by her office later that week only to find that she wasn’t there. The scary-looking Receptionist explained that the Doc was working at the high school that day.
After our session, I hadn’t reached out to Storm too soon, knowing that I needed to get my head in the game.
Any plans involving both of us had to be put on hold for a while.
I was still pissed that I had given her my number, yet she hadn’t contacted me.
Even when I dropped the fucking essay by her office, there was nothing.
Storm didn't even send an acknowledgement to say she had received it. The provocative little bitch.
As usual, Storm was playing a dangerous game. The girl broke me once, but never again. She’d handled me well as a boy, but she had no fucking clue what she would be getting into with me now.
I met my brothers a couple more times after I managed to pry them away from their girls. Phoenix was determined to matchmake, dropping Storm’s name in the conversation constantly. I knew the dude had my back, but it had started to get on my nerves: annoyance surrounding me like a dark cloud.
The day of the golf game loomed, and I was fired up, thinking about meeting my girl’s douche of a fiancé for the first time. There it was again, my girl. How could Storm be that when she was getting hitched to the aforementioned fucker in a few weeks?
I knew that if I wanted anything from her, I would have to work fast. My head and my heart were still in two completely different places.
And I still had the Palmer thing breathing down my neck.
Whenever I turned on the TV, their faces were there, pissing me off and reminding me of those I had let down.
Finally, the weekend appeared. My entire body was stiff and battered from my new coach drilling the fuck out of my ass, but by that Friday, the banter with my new teammates started to vibe.
I even bounced well off Aaron ‘Ace’ Baxter, the guy who had been the team's starting quarterback, before I was signed. Everyone knew that I would soon replace him, and he’d be relegated to pussy second.
He took my arrival well, as I knew how it felt to be the backup.
During the beginning of my career within the NFL, I was the reserve QB, and no matter how you slice it, that shit sucked dick big time. From Aaron’s behavior, I’d say he’d accepted it. He had to, as no one took you seriously in the NFL if you were a whiny little bitch when you didn’t get your way.
I swung by Ma’s house to pick Phoenix up, as he’d dropped Harper there and was desperate to ride shotgun with me.
Nix was like an overly excited girl as he climbed into the car.
He fired me with questions about how she performed in bad weather and high speeds, and I answered what I could.
When he started getting handsy with just about every dial on the dashboard, I had to tell him to curb his enthusiasm or get out and fucking walk.
He then sat there sulking like a ten-year-old.
Yep, the big guy hadn’t changed at all over the last four years.
The venue for the golf game was an elite, members-only country club, and we arrived five minutes early.
The very one that Storm had left me for that day at the beach.
The place she would have been when I’d sent her my message, giving her another chance to meet me.
The fact that she never showed still burned my insides.
Unlike the parking lot at The Touchdown Tavern, the club one seemed worthy of my wheels with a variety of expensive motors. The bright red Ferrari I parked my baby next to spoke to me in ways only a car could.
As we made our way across the tarmac towards the entrance, the building was brick-built and modern with glass-fronted windows.
There were squash courts and tennis courts out back, a restaurant, and a bar, but the main feature of the place was the lush golf course, which rolled off into the distance. A driving range also sat to one side.
When we got into the grand lobby, I recognized Dominic Summers straight away. He was dressed in branded golfing gear and already had his glove on. He was standing with the guy I knew was my enemy. Storm’s fucking fiancé. We’d never met, but I still hated his guts.
Jasper was tall with a slim build and tanned skin.
His hair was sandy brown and curled over his skull, making him look like the preppy dick he was.
From his build, you could see he kept himself in shape, but he was nowhere near as stacked as I was.
And, not a single tattoo adorned his creamy-looking skin.
I’d bet my left nut that his hands were soft like a bitch, too.
He was also dressed in golfing gear but wore shorts instead of slacks.
What a cunt.
I wasn’t a golfer by any stretch, but I didn’t lift out. The place was full of Pringle-wearing assholes full of their own self-worth. That was fine, I could work with that.
Yes, I’d been seen as foster scum in my teenage years, but I was now so much more than that.
I could look any guy there in the eye and feel proud of my achievements.
I didn’t feel out of place. I’d shaved and showered that morning and had pulled on a navy Ralph Lauren polo and cream slacks.
I’d left my baseball cap at the hotel and had my aviators hooked on my collar.
My Omega Speedmaster was strapped to my wrist, and it gave me a sense of pride.
I had bought it with my first million-dollar paycheck.
I wondered if Summers would still look down on me like he used to. Nix had said his father had mellowed over the years.