Prologue
AUSTIN
“Good morning, Austin,” Sydney says from behind the reception desk outside her father’s office.
She’s got her feet kicked up, the worn bottoms of her Converse giving away just how long she’s had this particular pair, as she reclines back so far that I’m worried she may actually tip over.
The messy bun of blonde curls paired with the very large pair of movie-star sunglasses she’s wearing indoors is a good indicator that not only is she coming off an action-packed evening, but that she wasn’t expecting to be called in today, either.
“Hey, Syd,” I reply, approaching slowly, in case she hasn’t been properly caffeinated yet.
Thankfully, there’s a half-gone mug of coffee sitting next to her, which means she’s on her way to being a functioning human.
I love the girl, but anyone who knows her knows that it’s best to keep a safe distance until at least ten a.m. And right now, it’s not even nine.
“What brings you in so early on a Friday during the offseason?”
“Winnie quit,” she replies. “No notice. No goodbye. Just an email that said she met a twenty-eight-year-old prince online and she’s moving to some country I’ve never even heard of to be with him.
So, now I’m stuck directing people to my dad’s office for this stupid meeting when I should be in bed.
Seriously. Just kill me now, Austin. I’m begging. ”
I chuckle. “No can do. I have to meet with your dad in five. Plus, I’m pretty sure your boyfriend would cut me into bite-sized pieces if I touched a hair on your head.
” She and the Rock City Renegades’ new running back, Steele Harlow, went public with their relationship a few months ago, and he’s pretty protective of her.
Not that I blame the guy after he watched her get kidnapped and wasn’t sure if he’d ever see her again.
We were all pretty shaken up by it, which is why her sassy morning attitude is always welcome.
She sighs. “Yeah, you’re probably right.
I guess I should just accept my fate and tell you that my father is waiting for you in his office.
If you need anything else—coffee, water, snacks—please feel free to get it yourself.
” She smiles sweetly, her lashes fluttering beneath the dark lenses of her sunglasses.
“You’re really good at this,” I say sarcastically. “If social media management doesn’t pan out, maybe you should consider a career in administrative work.”
“Ew,” she replies. “No way. Too many people. As soon as we find a replacement for Winnie, I’m out of here.”
We say our goodbyes, and I take off down the hall toward Paul Grant’s office.
I’ve gotten incredibly close with him since my season-ending injury a few years ago, doing what I can to shape the still-new expansion team into a winning franchise.
I can’t really take all the credit for their Super Bowl win this past season, but I’d like to say my presence made at least a small impact.
I’m always happy to pitch in here where I’m needed, although I can’t begin to guess why I was called in today.
“Austin!” Mr. Grant says as I step through the open door.
Renegades General Manager, Tony Rivisi, sits in the corner with his laptop open, and two other men who I’ve never seen before occupy the chairs opposite Paul.
There are several open folders along the surface of the desk, making me even more confused about what I’m doing here.
“Sir,” I reply, reaching across and shaking his hand before giving Tony a quick wave in greeting. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long to find out who the other men are as Mr. Grant moves right to introductions.
“Austin, this is Donovan Handler and Aiden Blankenship. They run the Renegades’ youth football program.
” I shake their hands as well, taking the third seat beside them as Paul goes on.
“I know you and I have discussed a possible position on our coaching staff as soon as you’re eligible this fall.
But, in the meantime, we’re looking for a head coach for our six to nine-year-olds.
I know it isn’t exactly the same thing as leading a group of grown men, but it’ll give you a little experience if you don’t have anything else going on this summer. ”
If I don’t have anything else going on this summer.
Of course, I don’t. I’m a single man with no family, whose friends are all wifed-up.
I spend my weekends either by myself at home or being the awkward-as-fuck eleventh wheel in our friend group, where I’m reminded every time we go out just how pathetic my love life really is.
If anything, maybe this gig will give me a distraction from that—at least until I can pour myself into coaching the Renegades.
“Sounds fun,” I say, the corners of my mouth tugging into a wide grin. “When do I start?”
“Well,” Aiden begins. “Our first practice is scheduled for next Saturday, so that’ll give us time to send over a contract and answer any questions you may have before the season gets underway.”
“Alright. Looking forward to it.”
We iron out a few small details and say our goodbyes, both men heading to the elevator while I trail behind.
Sydney is slumped forward onto the desk when I hit the reception area, her arms curled over the top of her head as she snores softly.
I’d bet every dime I have that she and Steele were up late last night, putting all their new dungeon furniture to good use.
Everyone was shocked when the Vixen’s Edge delivery truck pulled up to the front of their new house on move-in day, but as someone who can tell what others are into from a single conversation, I was zero percent surprised.
Kindred spirits and all that.
I bypass Sleeping Beauty, heading toward the elevator, but before it makes its way to the fifteenth floor, my phone vibrates in the pocket of my jeans. Pulling it out, I see Memphis Vaughn’s name in big, bright letters across the screen.
“Hey, man,” I say in greeting. “Long time, no talk. Hell of a game last night.”
I met Memphis a couple of years ago at a charity fundraiser.
He was there representing his baseball team, the Cleveland Gladiators, and we bonded over our love for the city.
He’s probably my closest friend outside of the Renegades, even though our personalities couldn’t be more different.
Where I’m laid back and controlled, he can be a bit bolder and more outspoken.
Despite the contrast, he’s a great guy with a big heart, who I really enjoy being around.
“Thanks,” he replies. “The arm is really starting to warm up, and the team is looking good. How are things on the Renegades front?”
“Not bad. I actually just got offered a head coaching position for their youth program. I’m looking forward to seeing how that goes.”
“Oh, wow. I think my sister just signed my nephews up for that,” he tells me. “Actually, that’s kinda why I was calling.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “About youth football?”
“No,” he rushes out. “About my sister, Paris. Her ex-husband is a total piece of shit, and she’s been struggling to take care of their three kids.
I’ve offered to pay her bills, but she insists on standing on her own two feet.
Problem is, she doesn’t have a degree, and she’s been a stay-at-home mom since she was eighteen, so she’s having trouble getting past the interview stage.
Everyone wants to hire people with experience, but she has none.
I asked around, and unfortunately, the Gladiators don’t have any entry-level openings that provide on-site childcare.
I was hoping that maybe the Renegades might. ”
The elevator doors slide open, but I ignore them, looking over at Sydney, who now has a puddle of drool seeping into the fabric of her sleeve.
Winnie left them in a pickle by leaving, and with organized team activities already in full swing, she’s going to be needed in the social media department.
Memphis’ sister may be the best candidate for the job, especially if she can start right away.
“I’ll pull some strings and call you back, but I’m pretty sure we can help her out.”