Chapter One
Austin
"Austin Alaric Hawkes."
Two things can be true at once. You can be one of the biggest athletes in the country—both in size and reputation—and still cringe like a goddamn seven-year-old when your mama uses that tone. You know, the one that conveys the depths of her irritation with just your full name? No one is old enough not to sweat that tone.
Fuck. My. Life.
What'd I do to piss her off this time?
"What's up, Ma?" I ask, clutching the phone between my ear and my shoulder while rummaging through my closet to find something to wear to the team party tonight. Attendance is mandatory, which means the venue will be crawling with paparazzi, models, and everyone else in this city hoping for five minutes of my time.
Since I was traded to the Washington Monuments as their starting QB last season, I have to show up and be seen. I'd rather chew glass, but a motherfucker's gotta do what a motherfucker's gotta do.
"What do you mean, you're not looking for love?" Ma cries into the phone.
"I didn't say that," I protest. It's a lie. I absolutely did say that. The last thing on my agenda right now is falling in love. The team isn't paying me millions to lose my shit over a woman. They're paying me millions to bring home championship rings.
Yet, every damn time I turn around, someone is trying to get in my pants. And if I'm even photographed remotely close to a woman, suddenly, the whole world thinks we're fucking. Better to head that shit off at the pass and make it clear that I'm not looking or interested than to deal with the same drama for another season.
I will not be telling Ma that, however. She's convinced all three of her kids hate her because none of us are married and giving her grandbabies. Like me, my brother, Sidney, plays professional football for Chicago. And our baby sister, Sophie, is a ballerina, also in Chicago. Marriage and kids aren't on the radar for any of us.
Ask Ma if she gives a shit. She wants grandbabies. Yesterday.
Our fans are firmly on her side. Last I heard, they were taking bets on which of us would fall first. For the record,pitting three competitive siblings against one another in a race to see who falls first is guaran-damn-teed to have the opposite effect. At this rate, I may be ninety before I take that leap, just to outlast Sidney and Sophie.
I'd punch someone in the throat for them without hesitation, but I refuse to lose to either of them. Fuck that noise. They'd never let me live it down.
"According toCelebrity Teatime, you did," Ma bitches. "I'm looking at the article right now."
"Ma," I groan. "You know you shouldn't be reading that shit."
"You did the interview, Austin Alaric."
"Not by choice," I grumble, pulling a white suit from a hanger. "They accosted me outside the airport. Answering their questions is better than telling them to fuck off." When you answer, they leave you alone for a little while. When you don't, they make a game of harassing the shit out of you at every available opportunity. I prefer to be left the fuck alone, thank you very much.
"Well, if you can talk to them, I can read what you had to say," she huffs, making me smile.
"Yeah?" I quirk a brow. "Does Pops know that you're reading gossip about us again? What'd he tell you last time?"
"Mind your business," she growls at me. "Or I'll tell him that you were the one who wrecked his truck when you were seventeen."
"Ma!" I pull the phone away from my ear to gape at it. "You're diabolical." No wonder Sophie is a savage. She gets it from our mother.
"Have to be," Ma says. "I married your father and then gave birth to you and your brother. You're both just like him. And don't even get me started on your sister."
"So…you're saying I'm your favorite, right?"
"You were," she sniffs. "This article is changing my mind."
"Then stop reading it. I can't have the goddamn papers turning my own mother against me."
"I want grandbabies, Austin."
"How about a dog?" I suggest. It seems like a good compromise to me.
"A dog?" Guess she disagrees. She sounds horrified by the prospect. "You can't distract me with a dog, Austin Alaric. Your father is still allergic, and I'm not five. Give me grandbabies before I'm too old to enjoy them."
