But then again, it’s nearly impossible during training camp for our schedules to align for a four-way call.Shit.
After a split second of waffling, my loyalty to family wins out over my thumping, aching hard-on for Chelsea Parker, and I pick up on a sigh. “Hey, guys.”
Everyone greets me, and all three faces on my screen look happy to see me. Make that two. My twin brother looks concerned.
“What’s wrong?” Levi asks, his brow creased as he studies me intently.
“Nothing at all. Why?”
“You look flushed and anxious.”
“No, I’m good.”
“Did we interrupt you whacking off?”
“No, I finished a few minutes ago.” Everyone groans and tells me that was TMI, while I flop down onto the edge of my bed. “So, how’s camp going for everyone?”
Marco updates everyone on his training camp so far with the Knights. And then about how much he loves married life with Nicola. From there, Levi updates the group on the latest with his team, the Rebels. And since he’s got zero love life to speak of these days, same as me—I mean, other than Chelsea turning my world upside-down—that’s the sum total of Levi’s update.
Next up, Roman gushes about his brand-new team. And from there, about his new live-in girlfriend, Iris, and his preschooler, Maverick. And you know what? As happy as I am for everyone’s happiness and success, I can’t be bothered with any of it right now. Not when I’ve made up my mind to find Chelsea Parker and do whatever it takes to make her kiss me like she would have done in that quiet classroom, if only there was zero chance of us getting found out.
“So, the reason I wanted to get you all on the phone,” Roman says, “is I’m planning to throw a housewarming partyto introduce everyone to Iris. I’m thinking I’ll set the date during preseason but on a weeknight day off so everyone can make it.”
I’m annoyed. For Roman and the other two other NFL players on this call, the preseason is a big nothingburger. Relaxed and easy, since they’ve all got fat contracts and secured spots on their active rosters. In fact, none of them will even be allowed to suit up till the third and final game of the preseason, if that. But for me, every preseason game, if I even get that far, will be life or death.
“I mean, if I’m not cut by then,” I add in a mumble, “then I’d still have to tell you pretty last minute if I can make the party.” My annoyance increases. “Honestly, flying across the whole damned country for a simple housewarming party would be pretty disruptive to my training schedule, Roman, and I can’t afford to fuck anything up this time.”
Roman’s face drains of color. “Oh yeah. I’m sorry, Luca. I wasn’t thinking about how precarious your situation is.”
“Hey, precarious is my middle name, baby. I’m just saying I’ll have to let you know.”
“Sorry, I’m just so excited to introduce everyone to Iris before the regular season starts, I’m not thinking clearly.”
Well, that’s interesting.My big brother must be pretty damned serious about this new girlfriend to want to introduce her to everyone all at once. Also, I’m surprised at how quickly and sincerely he’s apologized to me. Normally, Roman would be a bit defensive at first before coming around and admitting he was wrong.
“No worries, Romie. I’m happy you’re so happy.”
My big brother’s face lights up. “I am. Iris is unlike anyone I’ve been with before. She’s so real and genuine. You’re all gonna love her, if you’re able to come. But no pressure, Lukie. I get the position you’re in.” Roman’s dark eyes widen with an idea. “Hey, if it would help you get to the party, I’d be happyto book a private plane for you. Flying private makes things so much easier and faster. Your body will hardly even realize you’ve been traveling.”
Holy shit.I’m not sure what’s going on here, but it’s now clear Roman’s head over heels in love with this Iris woman, because he’d otherwise never in a million years spend that kind of money on a simple plane ride for me.
“Um, I’ll keep you posted, okay?” I say slowly, studying his smiling face. “Like I said, I’ll need to see how things shake down for me here to know what’s possible.”
“Gotcha. Yep. Just let me know.”
“Will do.” I yawn dramatically and stretch an arm. “I should get to bed. My personal coach gave me a direct order to get some good sleep tonight, and I always listen to her wise words.”
“Herwise words?” Marco asks. “Your personal coach is a woman? That’s so cool.”
Fucking hell. I can’t believe I dangled an intriguing carrot like that when I was trying to get off the call. Female coaches in the NFL are like Waldo: extremely hard to find. They’re so rare, in fact, every time one gets hired, she always makes national news.
“Yeah, she’s a woman and she’s been kicking my ass. Night, fellas.”
“Hang on,” Marco says. “What’s her name? I want to google her.”
“Her name is ChelseaParker,” Levi interjects smugly. “And she’s not just Luca’s personal coach. She’s also Jack Parker’s daughter and Luca’s ‘one that got away.’”
“Levi.”
