The Rookie (Kings of Cocky #2)

Prologue

prologue

. . .

Griffin

The bass thumps through the club, vibrating the leather under my arm. Around me, the guys are in full celebration mode—clinking glasses, throwing back shots, and hyping each other up like we’ve already won the Super Bowl.

“Knox, man, that was the best game of your life. And this is the best year of your life,” Peyton O’Rourke, my teammate says, slapping my shoulder. “Big contract, baller penthouse, and all the girls in Dallas. Rookie season is the best season. And you’re in the middle of it man, and crushing it. I do have one question though.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve never seen you go home with a girl yet. Or…anyone. What’s the deal with that, man? I mean, no sweat, I’m just curious. Last rookie we had got so much ass I’m pretty sure he wore out the hinges on his front door. It was like a revolving door of… options.” Peyton smirks, clearly proud of his wordplay. “But you? You’ve got this whole ‘mysterious and brooding’ thing going on. What gives?”

I smirk, lifting my drink and taking a slow sip. “What can I say? I like to keep people guessing.”

Peyton arches an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied. “Come on, Knox. You’re killing me here. You hiding someone? Or are you just too good for all this?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Let’s just say… I’ve got my priorities straight. Game first, everything else second.”

“Priorities, huh?” Peyton leans back, studying me like I’m a puzzle he can’t solve. “So, what—you’re waiting for your perfect little cheerleader or something?”

“Something like that,” I say, my tone light, even though my chest tightens a little. Because the truth? The one person who fits that description is halfway across the country last time I checked, doing her own thing, living her own life.

And me? I’m here. Acting like this is all I need, when I know it isn’t.

I grin and lift my drink, though I feel a little out of place. Don’t get me wrong—I worked my ass off to be here. Starting star tight end for Dallas as a rookie? That’s no joke. But this whole scene? The endless drinks, the strangers throwing themselves at you—it’s a lot. I’d rather focus on the games—but I can’t just be lame and stay home while my whole team is out on a Sunday celebrating another victory.

You know, team bonding and all that.

To my left, Brielle—or maybe it’s Brooke, I keep forgetting—leans closer. She’s all legs and cheekbones, her perfect smile practically blinding. “So, Griffin,” she says, her voice dripping with flirtation, “what’s your favorite thing about Dallas so far?”

I glance at her, trying not to sigh. “The food,” I say.

Her laugh is light and a little too practiced, and her hand slides down my arm. I’m just about to excuse myself when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see the name on the screen:

Cassie Calling.

Perfect timing.

“Be right back,” I mutter, standing up.

Peyton smirks, clearly having seen my sister’s name on the screen. “Little bro has to take a sibling call. Go easy on him, ladies.”

I flip him off and head out to the balcony, letting the city lights and warm breeze replace the noise of the club.

“What’s up, Cass?” I say, answering the call.

“Hey, little brother. What are you doing?”

I glance back through the glass doors. “Just out with the guys. You?”

“Trying to figure out what to pack for Lake Tahoe for Thanksgiving. Are you sure you can’t come? Mom says?—”

“Cass, I’m not going to Tahoe. We’re playing on Thanksgiving.”

“I know your schedule, little bro. But what if you came that night on the late flight?”

“I’ve got team stuff that weekend.” Not a total lie. Though Friday will probably be light.

She sighs dramatically. “Fine. But you’re missing out on a killer vacation. Asher’s bringing his new girl. Sloane’s her name.”

“Yeah—we met.” Asher is my little brother.

“And big bro extraordinare Jackson will even be there. Why can’t you?”

I sigh. “Look, I’m just…trying to stay focused. So what else is up? You don’t call me randomly unless you want something. And I feel like Tahoe wasn’t it.”

Cassie is a year older than me, and, for better or worse, we have quite the sibling connection.

“Wow. Rude. But fine.” There’s a pause, and I can almost see her smirking. “Okay, so I saw your social media lead Kelly is leaving the team. You know who you should hire?”

I frown. “Wait, how do you know Kelly’s leaving?”

“She literally posted about it on your team’s social media. Do you…not follow your own team?”

“I stay far, far away from social media. Anyway, yeah, they’re looking for someone for social media and marketing. I did know that.”

“Yeah…that’s why I called.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I have a recommendation for who you should hire.”

“Oh? Who’s that?”

“You should hire Avery.”

I freeze, the words hitting me like a blindside tackle. My grip on the phone tightens, my heart doing something weird and offbeat in my chest. “What?”

“You know—Avery Sinclair. My best friend? The one you’ve known for years?”

I let out a dry laugh, running a hand through my hair as I pace to the edge of the balcony. “Yeah…that Avery. Right.”

Cassie snorts. “You seriously don’t remember Avery? Are you okay? You two roomed together in Mexico when you were a junior and Avery and I were seniors? Ring a bell?”

I clear my throat, scrambling for composure. “Of course I remember. How could I forget?”

“Good, because I was about to call Mom and tell her you’ve been hit too many times and need to retire. You don’t have early-onset Alzheimer's, do you?”

I roll my eyes. “Real funny, Cass. Why are you bringing her up for this job, though?”

“Because she’s back in the States, and she needs a good job. She’s been doing all that international stuff—you know, in Spain?—and now she’s broke and trying to find something here. I think she’s even been deferring her student loans. Doesn’t that job pay well?”

I lean against the railing, the lights of Uptown Dallas blinking in the distance. “Cass, that’s a terrible idea.”

“Why?”

“Because she…uh…” I clear my throat again. “doesn’t like me.”

“ You don’t like her,” Cassie counters. “That’s different. Avery is neutral. We’re all like family. Come on. Remember when I got sick and she came to stay with us in high school? She literally waited on me for like month. She’s like, the best person in the world.”

No, I must have forgotten when Avery—the crush I’ve had for years—stayed with us. Slipped my mind.

Kidding. I remember every second of that fortunate visit.

I rub the back of my neck. “Cass, it’s mutual. She’s your best friend, and we…don’t get along. You know that. We’re like oil and water. Texas and Oklahoma. Dogs and cats.”

I bite my lip. I neglect to tell Cassie that our chemistry is also impossibly hot. Something that she should never have to find out, given that Avery and I buried our romantic axes long ago and swore never to dig them up.

I’ve done my best to forget that Avery even existed, and that strategy was working perfectly until this phone call.

“She’s amazing,” Cassie says firmly. “And she’s perfect for this job. Why are you being such a stick in the mud?”

“Cass—”

“I’m not done,” she interrupts. “She’s smart, she’s hardworking, and she knows social media like the back of her hand. And considering you’re living in a penthouse by yourself, maybe you should offer to let her crash with you until she finds her own place.”

I bite my lower lip. She missed a few of my favorite qualities about Avery—including her eyes, smile, laugh, penchant for planning, and last but definitely not least how hot she looks naked on her back, but I’m not about to correct my sister.

“No. I’m sure she’ll find a good gig somewhere.”

Somewhere far, far away from me.

“Why not? Why can’t you just help out a friend, Griffin ? Like I thought this would be an easy conversation.”

I sigh, staring out at the skyline. “Because I don’t want to deal with her.”

Cassie groans. “Oh, come on, Griffin. She’s not that bad.”

“She is when she’s around me,” I mutter, grasping for any excuse. I’ve carved out my own life here, and there is no way I am letting my season get derailed.

“She literally would be amazing at that job, and you know it. So just call her. You’re a superstar. You have sway.”

I clear my throat. “I’m just a rookie, Cass.”

“You’re way more than just a rookie. You’re a highly touted first round draft pick. Who—knock on wood—is delivering!”

I shake my head, already regretting this conversation. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Good. I’ll tell her you’ll call. And that you’ve recommended her for that marketing position.”

“Don’t—Cassie!”

She hangs up before I can argue, and I stare at my phone, feeling my night take a sharp turn.

Avery Sinclair. My sister’s best friend. The girl I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that damn trip to Mexico.

I head back inside, the warmth and noise of the party hitting me like a wall.

“How’s Big Sis?” Peyton asks, a knowing grin on his face.

“Fantastic,” I reply, sliding into my seat.

One of the other players, TJ, joins the conversation. “You tell her I say hi?”

I shake my head. “Not in the mood, Peyton.”

“You alright?” Brielle asks, tilting her head, her perfect curls catching the low light.

I wave down a server. “Another tequila,” I say, brushing her question aside.

The hot Texas breeze sweeps through the open door behind me, and suddenly—maybe it’s the smell of tequila and lime—but I’m brought back to the time about a year and a half ago where Avery Sinclair and I…became more than friends.

Way more.