I recall a late-night party and an early morning snack-sesh that involved mayonnaise and resulted in a miserable, ailing Declan Printz. He vowed never to touch the stuff again.
“I know what we’re going to do.” My lip curls as an idea takes shape.
“Oh, boy. He has that look.” Grey shakes his head. “Whatever it is, I’m not sure I want to take part.”
Declan cuffs him. “No, you’re not backing out. With Rylen off on his honeymoon, we need all the manpower we can get.”
The details formed, I lean in and tell them my plan.
“Brandon Campos is not going to be impressed.”
“Sure, he will.” I wink. “Let’s see. Macy, Stacy, Allison, Keisha... They all seemed impressed by my—” I slap my rear end, referring to the many women who’ve complimented the way my backside looks in uniform.
Grey holds up his hand. “We do not need to hear about your latest conquests.”
Chase shifts uncomfortably at the mention of my wolf-like reputation. We all know—and respect—that he’s looking for the right woman.
“I think there are just as many who’d like to give you a swift kick on that backside when you date ‘em and leave ‘em,” Grey mutters.
“Haters gonna hate,” I say.
“Lovers gonna...fill in the blank,” Chase says.
No need to fill in the blank. There’s nothing else to say. But there is a reason I date ‘em and leave ‘em. My nickname, Wolf, isn’t unfounded. I have plenty of room in my life for women, just not relationships.
“I think Rylen would approve,” Declan says.
Only I laugh in response.
We spend the next few minutes in a huddle, hashing out the plan to prank the newest member of the team. When we’re done, we throw our hands into the center of the tight-knit circle, and holler, “Cruisin’ for a Bruisin’”—the team slogan.
Who needs commitment, drama, and baggage when I have football bros like this, a winning streak, and my pick of any woman for an evening of a no-strings-attached good time?
We convince Chase, the one least likely to rouse suspicion, to text Brandon out of the blue. He invites him to come hangout with us in the team lounge—the idea is to build trust and camaraderie. He he.
Chase’s phone pings with a reply a moment later. “Brandon says that he’s on his way.”
I grin. “Perfect.”
Head resting in his hand, Grey rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why I let you guys talk me into this.”
I’m crossing the room to get into position and stop short. I cast Grey a glare of warning. An outsider might think that I’m fixing for a fight—and that I’m an idiot for crossing our linebacker—but it’s just one football brother to another, reminding him of who he is. Grey needs that from time to time, otherwise, he’ll travel down a dead end. Been there myself and it’s no fun finding the way back.
To drive home my point, I ask, “Who started the newbie initiation, Grey?”
Grey Adams is the oldest player on the team and arguably the best. He can win a game blindfolded and backward. Seriously. We challenged him once. Granted, it wasn’t against another team, but he was formidable. Football is woven into the very fiber of his being. It means everything to him and though he might not admit it, we do too.
“Who was the original mastermind behind all the pranks?” I ask.
Grey’s lips form a thin line and the muscles in his jaw twitch. He knows he’s the OG, the original. The real deal.
“Don’t forget who you are. Don’t letitget you. He wouldn’t want that.” The weight carried in each word is enough to qualify as a workout. I know it. He knows it. Declan too. As for Chase, as far as I know, the guy has lived a charmed life, so I’m not sure what kinds of challenges he’s faced. But it doesn’t matter. We’re family and look out for each other.
As for my actual brother, he’d just as soon see me get injured on the field, kicked off the team, or wiped off the planet. Figures he’d invite me to his wedding.
Hope the bride is an ogre.
Grey exhales and then nods as though set to rights.
