Page 86 of Hard to Score

And with that acknowledgment, I feel like I can finally breathe.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

BREXTON

“I’M DYING HERE, KINCADE.”

“Dying is hardly the term that comes to mind when I think of a starting NFL quarterback who is making more in one year than most people make in their lifetime,” I say with a lift of my brows, as Chase sits across the conference room table from me and shakes her head. “But what do I know?”

“I don’t find that amusing,” Justin says.

“And the GM with the Los Angeles Chargers isn’t exactly amused with your performances over the last two games, so maybe instead of dying here, you need to step it up out there on the gridiron.”

Chase narrows her eyes and I write out “Hobbs” on my notepad and slide it across the table. She emits a laugh and rolls her eyes.

“You’re supposed to have my back,” he complains.

“No. Finn is supposed to have your back. I’m just the sidepiece who’s trying to get you action without any commitment from you for the long-term.”

“If we’re talking in dating terms I should tell you ahead of time, I don’t date. I prefer to fuck and move on.”

“Lucky for her.”

“That was low.” He laughs.

“And you need to learn how to treat a woman properly,” I deadpan. “I think you need to keep your focus on the field, Hobbs. Sell yourself there, because no one is going to want to take on your salary if you’re not backing it up with your play.”

“So you’re still working on it then?”

I laugh. It’s all I can do at his relentlessness. “Something like that.”

And when he hangs up, Chase looks over at me and shrugs. “Please don’t tell me that’s the fucker who has put that extra bounce in your step because if he is, then you seriously need to have your head examined.”

“I have higher standards than that,” I tell my little sister.

“Not always.”

“Screw you.” I throw my pen at her and she dodges, so it falls with a thump on the floor as her laughter rings out. “Should we talk about you and your standards?”

“Honey, so long as they’re hard and last long, that’s all I need.”

“Jesus.” My father coughs the word out as he sticks his head in. “I think this is a conversation I don’t need to be any part of.”

“Wise move,” I mutter as he backs away and closes the door to the conference room.

“You’re just as crass as Hobbs is.”

“I like to call it truthful. You need the fancy words and small gestures. I, on the other hand, need some back-bending sex, with a pat on his ass when I pass him face down in the bed as I leave, with no promises or words spoken. Simple.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“I wish I weren’t, but it just makes things so much easier in the long run.” She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. “And since it isn’t Hobbs who has your cheeks full of color, who, pray tell, is it?”

“Ah, so that’s why you decided to come and sit in here with me.”

“What do you mean?” She feigns innocence.

“You’re the worst liar of the lot of them. Who asked you to try and get it out of me? Lennox or Dekk?”