Lennox interrupted our moment, yelling over everyone.
“Alright, assholes, get your wallets out! You remember the rules. The first question is worth five dollars, the second ten, the third twenty, and so on. The first question you get wrong eliminates you, and you pay up. We’ll start with all you fuckers who had no faith in true love.”
Mason started gagging as Drew whacked him on the back. But my attention was diverted to where Lennox unfolded a big piece of poster board and began marking off names while Evan collected their money.
“Told you it was just foreplay,” Evan added.
“Okay, now. Round two. Who made the first move?” Lennox asked, looking between us.
Colin raised his hand. “That would be me.”
“Okay, great,” Lennox added, marking off names. “All you fuckers who said St. James are out, but thanks for your money.”
He and Evan continued their Vegas gambling shtick until they got to the final question for Colin. There were three names left. “Have you met the parents?”
I groaned as he grinned. “Yep. Love Elizabeth and George.”
“Okay,” he beamed, making two marks on the paper. “We have a winner! Where’s the punter?”
My eyes popped open as Lucas stepped forward and stood beside Evan. “Which charity are you choosing?”
Charity?
“LGBTQ Youth Center on Third Street.”
Evan clapped him on the back. “Excellent choice, my friend. We’ll make the donation on your behalf. Keep the receipt for your taxes. You’re gonna need all the right-offs you can get.”
By the time the flurry was over and almost everyone had headed to the field, I scowled lightheartedly over at my friends. “You guys are assholes. But I’m oddly happy you did it?”
“Well I thought it was fucking brilliant,” Colin added.
Lennox laughed. “It was Evan’s idea. We’re oddly happy for you guys. Now come on, we have practice. We play San Francisco next Saturday.”
With Lennox’s words, the attention shifted from us to the game, just how I liked it.
Chapter 20
Colin
We made it through the four preseason games, only losing one before starting our campaign to return to the Super Bowl, just twenty weeks away. While it sounded like a long time, it wasn’t. I hated thinking about the end of the season because I was enjoying myself here.
Carson and I complemented each other well on and off the field. I kept the damn helmet on during the game, only fucking up occasionally when my brain reverted to rugby. The most significant issues were the face mask penalties I received. Every time the referee threw his little yellow flag, I knew it was me. And when it cost us points, Lennox and Evan tried to make me feel better by letting me know they’d cover them.
“It’s okay, Australia,” Lennox said, clapping me on the shoulder. “It happens to the best of us. I’ll just find Ellis for six to even the score.”
And most of the time, he did. But there were times I found myself distracted by intrusive thoughts that told me I wasn’t good enough to play this game and didn’t deserve my ten million dollar salary.
It had been a month since George had found the discrepancies in my finances. I hadn’t heard from Leland, butwhen his automatic payments ceased at the end of the month, he’d be in contact. I hadn’t even told Owen about the suspected embezzlement. I couldn’t take the chance on the asshole finding out I knew before George was ready.
Shortly after I cut him off, rumors circulated in Australia that I was being kicked out of the NFL for misconduct. Carson laughed it off.
“You haven’t received a fine or been suspended, much less kicked out of a game. Stop letting him get in your head. He’s playing games with you.”
He was right. Leland was a mastermind at getting what he wanted, and when he showed up in San Diego the last week in September after our first home game against Green Bay, I wasn’t surprised.
“Are ya ready to go? I’m starving and I got plans for you.”
Carson’s cheeks tinted pink as he grinned. “We’ll order takeout and pick it up on the way home. I just need to see Coach O’Neil. Decide what you want, and I’ll meet you in the car.”
