Chapter 9
RHODES
We were so close to a ring I could practically feel it. When we won this division round today, we’d be headed for the conference championship game in a week. It was halftime, and we were slaughtering the opposing team, so the mood in the locker room was energetic and excited.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” Brady asked as he dropped down onto the bench beside me.
“Pardon?”
“I think half the reason we’re winning is because your expression has scared the shit out of the team. Not that I’m complaining.”
I wanted to deny it, but Brady would know it was bullshit. “Finley,” I grunted.
He raised an eyebrow. “You two have a fight?”
“No.”
He didn’t say anything else, just stared at me in that way that told me he wouldn’t budge until I’d spilled my guts. It was very disconcerting when he did that. Which was why I always ended up telling him what was going on. Asshole.
Sighing, I scratched my chin, the prickly whispers reminding me of the whisker burn I’d left on Finley’s thighs. Which just made the whole situation even more maddening.
“She’s in the owner’s box.”
Brady frowned. “She’s in the owner’s box,” he echoed.
I nodded.
“She’s sitting in her uncle’s box,” he repeated.
I scowled and nodded again.
“Okay, you’re gonna have to help me out here. Isn’t it pretty normal for Lennox’s family to sit in his box?”
“Not when that family is my girlfriend,” I snapped.
Understanding dawned on his face. “You’re pissed because she’s not sitting in the stands with our families.”
I grunted in reply before taking a swig from my water bottle.
“If you two are intent on keeping your relationship a secret, then that’s the way it has to be, man,” Brady muttered.
“I’m not,” I argued hotly. “I wanted to go public right away.”
“Finley convinced you not to so that it wouldn’t mess with the team dynamic during the playoffs,” he guessed.
“Yeah. I fucking hate that the world doesn’t know she’s mine.”
“I get it,” Brady said with a slap on my back. “But now isn’t the time for your head to be up your ass. Maybe she’s right. You need to have your focus on the game. We all do.”
I nodded and swallowed another mouthful of water just as we were called to go back out onto the field. After putting on my helmet, I shook out my body and tried not to glance up in the direction of the Madison box.
The game filled my mind, and I focused on playing to win. As we entered the fourth quarter, we were up by fifteen points. I moved into position for the play that Prentice called and looked around me, playing out different scenarios so I’d be prepared for anything.
Unfortunately, my eyes darted over to the jumbotron, and I froze.
What the actual fuck?
The camera was zoomed in on the owner’s box, showing Finley in the front row, looking amazing in a team jersey…
although it didn’t have my fucking number on it, which already had me irritated.
But the guy sitting next to her was leaning in too fucking close and saying something in her ear.
Then she threw her head back and laughed, just as the whistle blew.
My head whipped back to the field, but those precious seconds of distraction cost me. The next thing I knew, I was knocked on my ass.
“Son of a bitch!” I cursed when I tried to stand, and my leg gave out on me. I recognized the feeling. It wasn't an injury, just a motherfucker of a charley horse where the other guy's foot had clipped my calf.
Kellan—another offensive lineman—and Gage each grabbed an arm to help me get onto my feet and limp off the field. After talking with the coach, he sent for one of our on-call physical therapists, and I hobbled over to the bench.
It was while the PT and I were working out the knot that I noticed an angry man stalking toward me and winced.
Yeah, Coach O’Hara was pissed as fuck. He wouldn’t have left the private skybox where he and the defensive coordinator spent our games unless he was angry enough that he wanted to ream me out in person.
“What the hell, Channing?” he shouted. “Since when do you take a hit like that? Since when the fuck do you take a hit at all?!”
I had a reputation for being wicked fast and was rarely taken down when tackled. It took monumental effort not to glance up at the jumbotron or the box where I knew Finley was sitting. “Sorry, Coach,” I mumbled.
“Sorry doesn’t get us to the championship game, Rhodes,” he snapped. “Get your head in the fucking game, or I’ll have you benched for the rest of the season. Do I make myself clear?”
I grimaced at the deadly tone of his voice. Coach O’Hara was exceptional at his job, but he was also honest and hardworking. He demanded respect, but he earned it. And he didn’t make idle threats.
“Understood,” I grunted.
“Good. How’s the leg?”
I stretched it out and twisted my foot around. The muscle was loose, and there was no sign of the spasm. “Ready to go.”
“Get your ass back out there and win the fucking game.” Then he turned on his heel and marched back toward the tunnel.
Watching the play happening on the field, I stood and began to pace. Eventually, I was unable to help myself and glanced up at the owner’s suite. Finley stood at the railing, staring down at me. She cocked her head to the side, and I instinctively knew she was asking if I was okay.
I nodded, and her shoulders relaxed, then she dropped into her seat. The chair next to her was empty now, and for some reason, it took a weight off my chest. Then she looked around and up at the big screen before blowing me a small kiss.
A grin spread across my face, and my head cleared. The whistle blew, drawing my attention back to the game, where I kept it until the clock ran out, ending the game 45-14.
We celebrated all the way off the field, and the coaches and staff waited for us in the locker room. Cole strode over and whacked me on the back. “Nice job, Channing. Glad you got your head out of your ass.”
“That’s what I said,” Brady interrupted with a snicker.
I rolled my eyes and removed my gear, then headed for the showers.
Kellan, Gage, and Micah wandered over just as I was shrugging on my coat. “We’re headed to The End Zone. Prentice and some of the coaches are coming too. You in?”
I shook my head as I shoved my keys and wallet into my pockets.
“I can’t make it tonight. Sorry, guys.”
“What the fuck, Rhodes?” Micah asked curiously. “You weren’t there after the last game either. Since when don’t you celebrate with us?”
“Since he went and got pussy-whipped,” Gage muttered.
I shot him a scathing look, and he just shrugged.
“Let’s just say I have a better offer,” I admitted with a lopsided smile, then I turned and started for the door. My grin widened when I heard Kellan ask incredulously, “Did he just smile?”
As I walked toward the parking lot, I saw another group chattering and laughing as they headed in the same direction.
I quickly recognized Lennox and Brie, then my eyes fell to the other three people in the group.
Finley and the punk who’d been sitting next to her, and another woman.
The women were chattering, while the men looked to be in a deep discussion.
I attempted to hide in the shadows, but obviously failed because I heard Brie call my name.
Sighing, I waited for them to catch up to me.
“Hey,” I greeted.
Lennox smiled widely and grabbed my hand, pulling me in for a back-slapping hug. “Congratulations, Rhodes. You boys have made me proud.”
“Thanks, Lennox. That means a lot,” I said genuinely.
“It looked like Cole pretty much chewed you out for that mishap in the fourth quarter, so I won’t even mention it.”
“Thanks,” I replied dryly. I rolled my eyes at his passive-aggressive jibe, knowing it was all in fun.
“Lennox, you’re being rude,” Brie cut in. If I were a lesser man, I might have kept the grin off my face at seeing the big, bad Lennox Madison being chastised by his pretty, little wife…or not so little, considering she was about to pop. Lennox’s glare said he was fully aware of why I was amused.
“You remember our niece, Finley,” Brie announced with a wave toward my girl, who smiled at me, making my heart squeeze. I hated that I couldn’t pull her to me and give her a kiss, one that would show this punk who she belonged to.
“And this is Lennox’s nephew, Gabe and his wife, Avery. Who also happens to be my best friend.” Brie smiled at Lennox with a twinkle in her eyes. “We actually met at their wedding.”
Married? Lennox’s nephew? Finley didn’t have a brother, so that meant that this was her cousin. Her married cousin.
My smile was sincere as I said hello to him and his wife. “Nice to meet you, Gabe, Avery.”
“You, too,” he returned as we shook hands.
“I think you know the twin brother of one of our other best friends. Miles Hensley,” said Avery as I shook her hand.
“Ah, yes. Wide receiver. Phoenix Dragons.”
“Yep,” she confirmed with a grin.
“We’ve known each other for several years. We have the same agent.”
Lennox muttered something, making me laugh. My agent was one of the few honest ones out there, but Lennox was still smarting over the last two deals the guy had brokered with the Nighthawks.
We chatted for a few more minutes, then I wished them good night after coming up with a lame excuse on why I wasn’t headed to The End Zone.
Finley shot me a smile over her shoulder as they walked away, and I tried to return it. She obviously noticed the tightness in my expression though because her smile slipped and her shoulders fell.
I looked forward to celebrating with her at home tonight. But I wouldn’t be able to keep this relationship a secret for much longer.