CHAPTER 21
MATTY
Coach had been on our asses all afternoon.
Coverage drills. Sprint ladders. Tackling form. Again and again and again.
He’d been brutal all season, but now, with the NCAA Football Playoffs about to start, he looked like he might start personally tackling people just to prove a point. Nobody was safe. Not even Parker.
By the time he finally blew the last whistle, my legs felt like sandbags and my brain was just static. The guys were still in the locker room arguing about dinner plans and ice baths, but I’d slipped out early.
There was only one thing I needed to do.
And that was to see Ophelia. At my place. Where she’d said she would meet me.
I was halfway across the parking lot when I noticed him.
A man stood near the gate, the late afternoon sun glinting off the metal clasp of his notebook. Windbreaker, slacks, pen tucked behind his ear. He didn’t look like a fan.
“Matthew Adler?” he called out, his voice practiced and friendly in a way that put me on edge.
I slowed. “Yeah?”
He stepped forward, flipping open his notepad. “Ben Carrow, Knoxville Daily Record. Sorry to bother you, but I just had a quick question or two.”
“Sorry, I don’t have time,” I said automatically, already angling to pass.
“Won’t take long.” He smiled that reporter smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “There’ve been rumors—talk that someone on the Tennessee roster might be connected to a gambling ring. Point shaving. Insider bets. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
For half a second, I couldn’t breathe.
Because I knew exactly what he was talking about.
Flashbacks of the dinner slammed through my head—the fancy restaurant, Kenton’s watch catching the light as he said information is currency. The way my dad’s eyes had gleamed as Kenton explained the new “business opportunity.”
“I’d think carefully before saying no.”
Fuck.
I forced a short laugh that sounded wrong in my own ears. “A gambling ring? That’s ridiculous. Nobody on this team’s doing anything like that.”
Carrow’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So you haven’t heard anything? No one’s approached you? You’re sure?”
“Positive.” I shoved my hands in my hoodie pocket, tried to keep my face still even as heat crept up my neck. “You’re wasting your time.”
“Hmm,” he said mildly. “I’ve heard your father’s name come up a few times. He’s been around the team a lot this season, hasn’t he?”
My jaw locked. “He’s a proud dad. Comes to games. He’s not around any more than other parents.”
“Right,” Carrow said, still writing. “Just making sure.”
My pulse was thundering so hard it drowned out everything else. “Look, I’ve gotta go. Practice ran late.”
He raised his brows, unbothered. “Sure thing. Just thought I’d ask.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, already walking away.
I could feel his stare between my shoulder blades all the way across the lot. I didn’t look back. My hands were clenched so tight in my pockets my knuckles ached.
By the time I reached my car, my pulse hadn’t slowed. I climbed in, slammed the door, and just sat there for a minute, breathing through my teeth.
What the fuck was I going to do?
I pulled out my phone; my thumb hovered over Dad’s contact in dread for half a second before I hit call.
He answered on the second ring. “Well, look who it is,” he said sarcastically.
“Cut the crap,” I snapped. “A reporter just cornered me outside practice. Said there are rumors someone on the team’s tied to a gambling ring.” My voice dropped to a hiss. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Dad?”
There was silence. Just long enough to confirm what I already knew.
He finally sighed, all patronizing patience. “Matthew, we need to talk about Kenton’s offer—”
My grip tightened. “Are you serious right now?”
“You need to think rationally,” he interrupted, his tone edging into that smooth, reasonable cadence that always made me want to punch something.
“You’re sitting on an opportunity most players would kill for.
Kenton’s connected; he could set you up for life.
And the information he’s asking for isn’t compromising anything. It’s smart business—”
I hung up.
The call ended mid-word, his voice slicing off clean.
For a second, I just stared at the screen, my reflection flickering in the dark glass—jaw tight, eyes wild.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, taking deep breaths as I tried to calm down.
But calm wasn’t coming.
If this grew, if that reporter started digging, if the NCAA got wind of it, if Kenton decided to push this…it could destroy everything.
I’d told the guys about that dinner the night it happened. After Jace picked me up, he and Parker had sat with me in silence while I tried to figure out how to breathe again. They’d promised it would be fine. That I’d done the right thing.
Later that night, I’d gone to that house party just to get drunk enough to forget. I’d wanted noise—music, people, anything to drown out the sound of my dad’s voice and erase the image of Kenton’s smug smile.
And then I’d seen Ophelia…and I’d basically forgotten all about it.
I was definitely thinking about it now, though.
It felt like a lit fuse, hissing closer by the second.
I couldn’t let it reach Jace or Parker…or anyone else on the team.
And I definitely didn’t want it touching her.
Ophelia.
The thought of her steadied me for half a second. The girl who caused everything to make sense. She didn’t seem to like me for what I might be someday. She looked at me like I was already it.
For the first time, my future wasn’t just about me…it was about us.
Which meant I couldn’t afford to let it fall apart.
I shook my head, started the engine, and pulled out of the lot. My phone buzzed against the console. I stared at it for a long second before calling my agent instead.
He answered on the second ring. “Matty? What’s up?”
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound like I didn’t care either way. “Any new offers come in?”
A pause. “Not since the last one. You thinking about leaving early?”
The question hit harder than I expected.
That had never been the plan.
From the start, it had always been me, Parker, and Jace, four years, side by side, before the draft would pull us in different directions. We’d promised ourselves that. Finish what we started. Go out together.
But now, I didn’t know.
The ground beneath everything felt unsteady, and for the first time, I wasn’t sure if keeping that promise was smart—or suicidal.
If that story grew legs, if reporters kept sniffing around, if the NCAA started investigating…it wouldn’t matter that I’d said no. The whole team could go down with it. And my dad? He’d sell his soul before taking the blame.
Leaving early might be the only way to get clear before the fallout hits. To get somewhere new, sign a contract, and stockpile enough money to protect the people I cared about.
Safer.
Cowardly maybe, but safer.
“I don’t know,” I said finally, my voice rough. “Just…keep an eye out, okay? Let me know if anything comes up. Anything.”
“Sure thing,” he said carefully. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied.
I hung up before he could ask more.
I didn’t know what I was doing…just that I needed options. Money. Security. A plan.
Something to hold on to if everything else went to hell.
I had so much to lose.
And I wasn’t letting anyone take it.