Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
JAXONE WILDE
Iget it. Tonight, we get to loosen up a bit. Tomorrow, we’re hitting the road to Jacksonville, where we’ll start training at our new facility on Saturday. After that, we’re heading to Denver to train in the altitude and get our lungs ready for game day.
Usually, I’m the life of the party on nights like this. No holds barred. We get plastered. Pretty girls wall-to-wall. The cheerleaders should be here soon—those who like to hang out, anyway. Not all of them do.
“So, um… Jax…” Jake hooks his arm around the back of my neck and slides something small into my hand. A folded piece of paper.
“This is from Rachael. Says she misses you.”
Rachael. One of the cheerleaders I kicked it with for a hot minute last season. Casual, nothing serious. We fizzled without a word—no drama, no breakup. At least I thought.
I look at the note but don’t unfold it. Jake’s watching me too closely. So is Rob, standing just behind him like he’s waiting to see how I’ll play this.
I slip the note into my coat pocket.
I’ll throw it away later.
“That’s it?” Jake asks.
“I have a girlfriend,” I say.
Jake tilts his chin and narrows his eyes, one brow cocked like he’s auditioning for doubt. That look pisses me off more than his question.
“I have a girlfriend,” I repeat, firmer this time.
“Yeah, but… come on. Sticky fingers?”
The heat rises in my neck. “Don’t call her that.”
“She’s hot. I get it. I would, you know… myself. But brother, she’s Hollywood, playing a fucking part. She fell asleep during your first touchdown,” Jake adds with a smirk, like he’s trying to bait me.
I look at him, then at Rob, both of them waiting for me to slip up.
“Not only that,” Rob chimes in. “She’s too much of a distraction.”
I snort. “I scored three times tonight.”
“Yeah, but not last Sunday,” Rob fires back. “You had buttery fingers, man.”
“Fuck you,” I mutter. “Zara is my girlfriend, and she’s not going the fuck anywhere. So get over your jealousy already. And you know what?” — I button my coat — “I’m leaving.”
I storm out. They call after me, voices softening, pretending they were just messing around.
But fuck that.
Let them drink and laugh and talk shit. I’ve got better places to be. I’ve got Zara. And I need to finish what we started earlier.