Chapter Two
Jake
I glance down at my phone. There’s a picture of a brunette in a white bikini who’s sent me a message, offering to show me the sights of Canyon.
Another one.
I swear I lose track of all these chicks coming at me. This one has a big smile and curves in all the right places. She reminds me of a girl I used to date in college. But something tells me I need to be careful.
‘Hey, assface,’ a voice says in the direction of the pool as my seventeen-year-old sister, River, throws a volleyball toward my head. ‘Quit looking at your phone. Those girls who you think are sliding into your DMs are just bots tryna catfish you.’
The ball whooshes past my ear and bounces off the wall of the house. I glance down at my phone again. ‘Nah, this one looks real enough.’
It’s the first week in August and ninety-three degrees out.
In the late afternoon sun, River rests her chin on her arms at the water’s edge.
Then she runs her tongue across her retainer.
I’ve just gotten the keys to this place this morning and already the brat is treating it like her own personal palace.
‘They prolly generated the picture using AI, idiot. But if it was real, like, would she pass the Mom test?’
I check out the picture one more time, then tuck my phone away in my pocket.
It vibrates again. It’s not quit doing that since I moved here for pre-season training from Pennsylvania a month ago.
The girl is cute for sure, but looks like she’s had a little work done, or maybe she’s just wearing too much makeup.
Meaning, no, she wouldn’t pass Bridget Walsh’s unreasonably strict standards on who can, and cannot, date her son.
‘Prolly not,’ I mumble.
‘Because the answer is never yes!’ River declares, throwing herself backward in the pool waters and kicking up her legs violently. ‘No mortal is good enough for the King himself! Ugh!’
I rub my eyes, rolling out the tension in my shoulders. ‘Can you quit it with that?’
River treads water, wiping her face. ‘I’m so sorry, I failed to use your full title! Forgive me, oh mighty King Midas.’
I wince. I know she’s just trying to be funny, but whenever she uses her brotherly nickname for me, her words twist in my gut.
Because that’s how my parents view me. That everything I touch turns to gold.
In fact, the term ‘golden-boy’ gets thrown around a lot these days and I hate the implication, even if I did just sign a mega-bucks deal to star in the NFL.
As a kid, I was fast. Agile, too. Maybe that’s why I became a running back.
I played college football on a scholarship for Penn State.
Of the twenty-four running backs in the NFL Draft, I was the first-round pick, fourth overall, aged twenty-three.
My agent and I discussed all the options on the table, with Mom and Dad in the room.
We knew from the outset that the Mutineers were prepared to pay top dollar for me, were prepared to trade for me, and they were on our list of teams I wanted to play for.
So here I am: the Canyon Mutineers’ newest running back, an offensive lineman.
In a brand-new house, paid for wholly out of the money from my signing bonus.
But family matters to me. I wasn’t going to leave them all behind. So, they’ve uprooted their lives for me, even though it means River transferring high schools just prior to her senior year.
‘River!’ Mom’s voice cuts through the tranquil air of the back yard. ‘Sweetie, get outta that water! School starts in a matter of days, honey. We gotta stock up on supplies. And groceries.’
‘I can get groceries,’ I offer up with a wave of my hand, because it’s my new place and technically they’re my long-term guests, living in an annex off the main house, but sharing my kitchen. And right now, I got a brand-new double-door refrigerator with precisely fuck all in it.
‘Do you even know where the nearest store is?’ she asks as River heaves herself out of the pool and into my mom’s waiting towel. I didn’t even know we had towels.
‘I saw a few places on our way out here,’ I say with a shrug. ‘Shouldn’t be that big of a deal.’
‘Then buy something healthy. Not just bags of chips and peanut M I can’t keep track.’
‘That happens when you just signed for the best team in the NFL,’ Dalton says and Hud cocks his head to one side.
‘So, you’re gonna have to get used to the popularity,’ Hud adds.
‘You guys wanna come in for a beer?’ I ask.
Dalton holds up a plastic container. ‘Can’t. But thanks for the invite. We’re doin’ the rounds. Calling in on all the rookies. This is a housewarming gift from my wife, Ally. She baked you a cake.’
My eyes go wide. I take it from him. ‘Wow. That’s so nice of her. Please tell her I said thank you.’
River appears behind me in the doorway, her wet hair from the shower falling straight at her shoulders. Looking shy, she comes out onto the porch. I decide it’s best to introduce her before she can embarrass the hell out of me. ‘This is my sister, River,’ I say. ‘River, this is—’
‘I know who they are, idiot,’ she says, stepping forward and shaking their hands, the shy act not lasting very long. ‘Hi.’
‘You going to school here, River?’ Dalton asks.
‘Transferring in for my senior year,’ she confirms, making a look as though she’s gone loco.
‘You like football?’
‘Sure, I like football. Not always the jocks who play it. In high school, my brother was a total jock.’
I rub my forehead. The guys are laughing. She’s good at embarrassing me.
‘Yeah, my brother was a jock, too,’ Hud laughs, smacking Dalton in the chest.
‘Least I wasn’t a complete jackass,’ Dalton counters, then checks his watch as we’re all still laughing.
‘We gotta make a move,’ Hud says. ‘But we came to remind you of our pre-season celebration, tomorrow night. Checking you can make it. To welcome the rookies and to celebrate the guys making the roster. We all go for Mexican food, followed by drinks, and for those that are allowed… some of the guys head to a place call—’ His eyes flit to River and he rearranges his hat.
‘It’s a, uh, late-night establishment on the west side of town. ’
River screws up her face. ‘Ew, I don’t wanna know.’
‘Sure,’ I say. ‘Yeah, some of the guys were talking about it at practice. I’d like that.’
This time, Hud slaps Dalton on the back. ‘It’s the one night of the year when the lovely Ally turns a blind eye so Cap here can join in all the fun.’
‘Then I’m definitely in,’ I say.
‘Bring cash, man, and plenty of it,’ Hud says with a wink.
Minutes later, they depart.
‘I like your new teammates,’ River says. ‘But I cannot wait to try this cake.’
‘You can’t wait ’til I get back from the store?’
‘Nuh-uh,’ she says, and she’s already taken the container inside.
Some of my college buddies told me I was insane to even consider a move to Texas, of all places.
I’m not from the south – never even been here before I got drafted – and especially not this far south.
A hundred and twenty miles out of San Antonio, close to the border with Mexico, Canyon is a coastal city.
People told me it had a subtropical climate, like Houston.
Hot, humid summers, and mild, temperate winters.
My friends also told me it would be Hicksville. But so far, I kinda like it out here. And honestly, I don’t give a shit where I am, so long as I can play football for the NFL.
I get lost on the way to the store because, despite my in-car sat-nav in my brand-new Chevy pickup, I take a wrong turn in an unfamiliar area of town.
I know I’m somewhere not too far from the Danube Stadium – home to the Mutineers – but the sun’s dipping low on the horizon and I know I need to hurry the hell up.
I’ve ended up inside some mini mart in a plaza off Main Street.
Plus, my mom is right, I suck at grocery shopping.
I thought about getting a cart but ended up with a basket instead, now I’m staring at a whole aisle full of nothing but potato chips and thinking I can’t serve them up on a platter and call it dinner.
Getting out my brand-new pickup, a couple of people raised their eyes to me, then pointed.
Canyon has a proud history of American football, so it makes sense I’d get noticed in some parts, but I pull my cap low all the same.
When I think I’ve done a decent enough job of planning dinner, I head for the checkouts, thinking I’ll probably just order takeout instead.