Like how I knew she’d fall asleep early. Though, she lasted twenty minutes instead of five.
Me? I was too busy scrolling more videos of a fool to pay attention to the movie.
CHAPTER 7
CAMDEN
“Canyou get off my ass for one goddamn second? You just got here.”
It’s Nadine’s first official day as the not-nanny nanny, and already, she’s on my last nerve. She arrived with a chip on her shoulder and a small carton of tea bags because she apparently can’t live without her Earl Grey in the morning and a chamomile mint in the afternoon.
“Well, who doesn’t have a teapot?”
I slap my hand on the counter. “Me.Idon’t have a teapot. Because why the fuck would I have a teapot?”
“To make tea,” she overenunciates with a curl to her lip that I’d like to bite.
“I don’t drink tea.”
“What about coffee? Can I use your coffeepot to heat up water?”
I shake my head. “Don’t drink coffee either.”
I hate to admit the annoyed, throaty growl of hers really does something to me, and I spin away to show her my state-of-the-art microwave, then proceed to point to the cabinet with mugs. “Help yourself.”
She reels back as if she hit her head and ended up in the sixteenth century. “You want me to microwave my tea?”
I shrug and pocket my wallet and keys, informing her, “I’ll be home in a couple hours.”
“I thought you Midwesterners were supposed to be welcoming.”
I paste on a fake smile and offer her a dramatic bow at the waist. “Welcome.”
Even though training camp doesn’t start for another week, the team has been in meetings, hitting the weight room, and generally remembering what it is to be a professional athlete again. I’ve been given a wide berth to take personal time, but I need to get back. I need to remind my teammates and the staff that I’m here. I’m ready.
I have an appointment with the speed and agility coach, and I can’t stand here arguing all day with this tiny she-devil, who’s addicted to fancy teas.
“Paisley is still sleeping,” I say, and Nadine ignores me, jamming her index finger at random buttons on the microwave. I don’t bother correcting her, but I do send one last parting shot as I leave. “If you want some help removing the stick from your ass, you’rewelcometo use the hot tub to relax. Though I’m not sure the world would be ready to see what a demon looked like after your human skin melted off.”
Then I close the door on her grumbles and take the elevator down to the garage, where I start up my brand-new car. I haven’t been able to sit behind the wheel of my Camaro since the night of my parents’ accident, and I have it covered with a tarp in the corner. Not that I’d use it for city driving anyway, but this Mercedes-Benz will do. It was a spur-of-the-moment purchase when Erik mentioned that I’d now be in charge of my sister’s transportation, and my convertible Porsche didn’t seem suitable enough, so I went out and bought this GLA SUV. “Perfect for a family,” the salesman had said, and I signed the papers on the spot.
Philadelphia appears before me as I pull out of the underground garage, a blend of old brick and modern glass that I’ve come to love. I easily glide through the streets of Center City that once intimidated me when I first moved here, a grid system of one-ways that took me a while to understand, not to mention how to navigate the chaotic traffic. After seven years of living in the City of Brotherly Love, I’ve found it’s become a city of ire.
The familiar landmarks blur past me, a reminder of how the life I used to live is gone.
The bachelor nightlife? Done.
The freedom to chase whatever high I wanted? Crushed.
The old Camden Long? Don’t recognize him.
Between becoming the city’s number one enemy and the guardian of my sister, nothing is what I remember.
Except the complex that is the Founders’ headquarters, including the training and practice facilities, front offices, and a media center. Situated in South Philly, not far from the stadium, it’s where I’ve spent the majority of days in my adult life. It is as familiar to me as my childhood home is.
Or, was. Since it’s not mine anymore.
I blink away the sting in my eyes and clear my throat even though no one is around to see. Still, allowing myself even this much emotion is unacceptable. I have too much on the line to break down now.
