Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Cooper met Nico at the center of the field, each of them flanked by two of their team captains. A referee stood between them explaining the rules of the coin flip, but these were rules Cooper had heard a hundred times.
The league knew exactly what they were doing, pitting the former rookie against his former coach. They were banking on a rivalry, and considering how things went the last time Cooper had seen Nico, they might have blindly walked into having gambled correctly.
Cooper took a good look at the sleeve tattoo peeking out underneath Nico’s black and blue jersey.
A forest of roses with twisted vines latching onto clocks.
Cooper had seen photos online when scrolling aimlessly.
Certainly, he had not gone to Nico’s Instagram every night for the past five months.
He had seen photos of the arm sleeve tattooed on the other man, but in person it looked different.
Nico looked different. The good boy image, the squeaky clean image—that of innocence—was gone.
Cooper himself was a simple man, his body unmarked. Hell, he was probably the only guy in the league without a single tattoo. But tattoos told stories and he considered himself a closed book.
That’s why he hated his scars—they told everyone who saw them he was a broken man.
There on the field, he pondered the idea of covering up his scars with tattoos, as if he could rewrite the story they told into something a little less traumatizing.
The Cobras won the coin toss and Cooper made the decision for his team to defer the ball to the second half, meaning the Hollywood Knights would get the ball first.
Cooper reached out his hand to shake Nico’s, who hesitated before apparently realizing the camera was aimed directly at them. The other man’s grip was strong. Too strong.
Cooper tried to hide the wince on his face as he pulled away.
Nico backed away as he pulled his helmet over his head, and with full eye contact, the Hollywood Knight dragged his pointer finger over his own throat as if he were slicing it.
Cooper received the message loud and clear.
A yellow flag landed on the turf between them, and the first penalty of the afternoon was called before the clock had even begun. Because the overseeing eyes known as referees had also gotten the message.
Loud and clear.
Cooper Callahan and Nico Fallon were officially rivals.
Nico rolled his eyes as he finished his last interview, and made a beeline for the tunnel with his head bowed down. Salty sweat burned at the corner of his eyes but that was nothing compared to the sting in his heart.
The stadium was quieter than he expected for his debut as a Hollywood Knight. But hey, nobody wanted to cheer on losers. And with the Knights trailing the Cobras with a fourteen point deficit at the half, he was surprised the fans even stayed until the final few minutes.
The blistering Los Angeles sun gave way to the shadow of the tunnel, but just as Nico sighed a breath of relief having escaped another embarrassing interview, a familiar voice called out to him.
“Good game, Rook.”
He turned in a slow circle, his tongue punched against the inside of his mouth. “Fuck off, Callahan.”
Cooper smirked, holding his helmet in his hand. “I haven’t seen you in five months and that’s all the tact you can muster?” He punched Nico playfully on the shoulder. “Rember what I taught you about good sportsmanship?”
Nico shook his head, not able to recall a single damn instance of such a conversation. “I vaguely remember you saying something to the effect of spitting on the corpses of the enemy.”
“No,” Cooper said, his eyes searching both directions to make sure they were alone in the tunnel. Which they weren’t, but nobody was within earshot. Still, the ever-careful Cooper, took a step closer to Nico and whispered, “I think the instruction was to spit on holes.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not flying out until the afternoon tomorrow. Have some official things to take care of.” Cooper tugged at his earlobe. “I could stop by your place.’
In the five months since he’d seen Cooper last, Nico had a lot of time to think about what he’d say to his former coach when he saw him again. Nothing ever seemed right. Words were never enough.
So, he settled on a lie. “I have a hot date tonight.”
Cooper narrowed his eyes—lust-filled, fuck-me-please blue eyes—on Nico. “Are you saying that to make me jealous?”
“Yes, because that right there…” Nico pointed at Cooper, circling his finger in the other man’s face. “I love that look in your eyes.”
“I’ve missed you,” Cooper said, somehow even quieter than a whisper.
“You missed putting your thing in my thing. There’s a difference.”
“I see no difference.”
“You threatened to kill me,” Nico pointed out, and it felt great to get that off his chest. He considered himself a changed man since that night. Vowed he’d never let someone threaten to kill him again and not at least try.
“Be serious now,” Cooper scoffed. “That wasn’t a real threat.”
“You said, and I quote, that’s a real threat, by the way.”
“You’re mad about that?” Cooper asked, and then, “About what you saw?”
Nico gritted his teeth. It was the only way he couldn’t scream. “I don’t give a fuck about whatever that was in there. It’s none of my business—”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
“I’m not finished,” Nico cut him off. “Whatever hurt you carry inside your heart, it doesn’t give you the right to hurt other people.” Nico looked away and cleared his throat. “I’m not saying I was hurt, by the way. Just a general point for you to consider moving forward in your life.”
He was in fact more than a little hurt.
“I’m glad we hashed this out.” Cooper nodded. “Now, what are you really doing tonight?”
Nico wanted to give in, but needed to hold firm. Needed to stand his ground. Besides, his former coach and his former team had just fucked his new team, hard and raw. He wasn’t about to give the other man the satisfaction of fucking him in the afternoon and again at night.
“I’m getting laid. I suggest you do the same.”
“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?”
“Failing,” Nico said and walked away, leaving Cooper at the end of the tunnel.
Every step away from the other man felt unmanageable, as if the further Nico walked, the more difficult the ground beneath him.
Nico wanted to look over his shoulder just to get one last glance before he’d see him again, most likely the next time their teams met in December.
Wanted to turn around and give the piece of shit his address.
Unfortunately, Nico had made a deal with a teammate and everyone who knew Nico understood he took bets seriously.
The wager? If the Knights won, they’d go out to the club, get drunk, and fuck some women. If they lost? They’d do the same thing, but maybe cry somewhere along the way.
Anyways, he couldn’t renege. Clearly, he and his team still had some bonding to do in order to build chemistry. Because what the fuck ever happened on that field was not camaraderie and Nico was damned if he’d be responsible for two losing seasons, back-to-back and on two different teams.
The fifth-year wide receiver Dominic Smith Jr. was a ladies man, but showed restraint in public. He stood at the stairway leading down to the public area of the club, leaning against the railing as he macked on the bottle service girl.
He’d never find himself in the position Nico found himself in—sitting overly relaxed on the black leather couch as neon pinks and blues cascaded over him. Hot, hungry mouths on each side of his neck. Long fingernails brushing over his burnt skin.
Two beautiful women, but he couldn’t be bothered to remember their names. It wasn’t his idea to bring them up to the VIP section. No, that honor belonged to Romeo Bourne who was suspiciously nowhere to be found.
Fingers caressed Nico’s cheek, guiding him to the blonde with piercing blue eyes.
He arched upward, brushing his lips against hers but with restraint.
Her hand fell to his hard cock and palmed over it, eking a moan from the back of his throat.
He grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her deeper into his kiss.
Every girl in this fucking city was hungry for him and he was hungry too, but when he pulled away to catch his breath, it was Cooper fucking Callahan looking at him. He retreated slowly, knowing his mind was playing tricks on him.
He jumped to his feet, shuffling away from the brunette, and reached down to take the blonde’s hand in his own. The chivalrous man that he was, he helped guide her to her feet. He flipped her hair from her ear, pressed his mouth against her ear, and asked her to leave with him.
“What about my friend?”
Nico shook his head and whispered again, “I’m not into brunettes.”
He fist-bumped Dominic on his way down the stairs, feeling the tiniest bit guilty for leaving the blonde’s friend behind.
Nico woke up like he always did, by dragging his palms over his face and groaning because it was way too fucking early to be awake. Especially on a Monday morning after having partied the night before. Thankfully, he didn’t experience hangovers like some of his older teammates.
He sat up in bed and saw the, admittedly, beautiful woman lying naked beside him, wrapped up in his covers. Under the harsh light of the California sun, she looked nothing like Cooper Callahan.
He clearly had a type.
All the women he’d been with since arriving in Los Angeles were all tall blondes with blue eyes. Surely, coincidental. Surely not because Cooper was tall, blonde, and blue-eyed.
He carefully climbed out of bed, his bare feet landing on the hardwood floors. He swiped his phone off the nightstand and climbed into a pair of blue boxers. He danced on his tip-toes, doing his best ninja-walk as he made his way out of the bedroom and into the living room.
The condo was small, cozy, and temporary. He hadn’t found a proper place to stay in time before the season started and so he was stuck there until after the season was over.
He crashed onto the couch and began his morning ritual of scrolling endlessly through social media apps until he had to inevitably get dressed to go to the facility for tape review.
A compilation of orange cats terrorizing their owners, which reminded him how much he wanted a cat.
Multiple videos of book reviews, which reminded him he hadn't read a book since pre-season started.
A recap video of the previous night’s episode of Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which was his favorite in the franchise but that secret would die with him.
A carefully curated barrage of half-naked men working out, which was strictly educational.
A video that mesmerized him, a man “dancing” in basketball shorts while clearly not wearing underwear with the caption, Dwerking. Nico clicked the hashtag and it brought up an endless scroll of men participating in the trend.
Fuck, he missed cock.
He went back to his feed and a video titled Bad lip reading - Football edition popped up. He zoomed in and it was a video of Cooper and him arguing in the tunnel. His heart pounded and his throat tensed as he shot up on the couch.
They should have known better. Should have known cameras were always watching.
“Cooper, you fucking idiot,” he cursed under his breath, because really Mr. I Live My LIfe In a Cage should have been more careful. This was all the other man’s fault.
Nico turned the volume up on his phone as the lip-reader narrated the argument, but with Cooper’s back to the camera, it was only Nico’s half of the conversation under scrutiny.
Nico smiled at his former coach. “I’m having a latte tonight.”
“Because of that goose over there.” Nico pointed at Cooper. “I love porridge and rice.”
“You missed bussing and putt-putting.”
Nico thankfully disappeared behind Cooper’s body for the next thirty seconds, and then he was in plain view again.
“I’m getting eggs. I suggest you do the same.”
Nico chuckled at that last line. So fucking ridiculous, but also so fucking close to what was actually said—I’m getting laid. I suggest you do the same. Nico breathed a sigh of relief as he copied the link to the video and texted it to Cooper.
Nico
Close call, asshole
Cooper read the message, but did not respond.