Playbook (The Holland Brothers 2)

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” I say as Alec hands me a beer. “Again.”

“You got something out of it.” He sets his beer between his legs and rubs his hands together as he scans the field like a kid at his first monster truck rally.

I brighten at the reminder. Alec let me drive us tonight in his Porsche. It’s his baby. His parents gave it to him as a college graduation present.

I think I got a gift card to Target for my graduation, so I guess I can understand why he spent the entire ride to the stadium with one hand on the dash and the other leaning toward me like he was preparing to take the wheel at any sign of danger.

I am a good driver, thank you, but I might have gone a little faster than I would have in my own vehicle. What? I had to get the full experience.

It’s halftime and the teams are starting to come back from the locker rooms. We’re so far up that the players look like little dots on the field. We have our own private bar and there’s free food and a TV so we can actually see what’s going on if we want.

Alec is in heaven. It makes me feel a little less awkward about the whole thing. I still can’t believe Brogan sent me box seat tickets. Who does that? It truly doesn’t make any sense to me why he is going to such lengths to apologize. It doesn’t track with everything else I know about him.

He’s a professional athlete who gets bags of fan mail each week. What the hell does he care if there’s one woman out there that doesn’t like him? Actually, maybe it does track. The man’s ego just can’t handle me not falling all over myself to get with him.

I keep telling myself this because him wanting me to be here for any other reason is just too hard to wrap my brain around.

My phone buzzes in my lap and I look down at the screen. Surprise makes me sit tall when I see Brogan’s name. I hold it up for Alec to see.

He arches a brow in question. “Somebody stole his phone maybe?”

“And decided to call me?”

My roommate shrugs. “Are you going to answer it?”

I don’t get the chance before it stops, but then a second later it buzzes again.

“What the heck?” I mutter to myself as I stare at his name flashing on the screen. I am so thrown off that I do the only thing I can think of—I answer it. Then I don’t say anything. There’s background noise and some heavy breathing. And then, “London?”

“Hi.” The word sounds strange, hesitant.

Alec is watching me with amusement.

“How’s it going?” Brogan asks, more carefree than I would have imagined. Although to be honest, I have no idea what I would have imagined. Why the heck is he calling me?

“Umm…fine.” I stand and look down at the field. Does he have his cell phone out on the sideline? “Where are you?”

“In the locker room.”

“Your team is on the field.”

“Well, that answers my next question,” he says, and I can hear a little of the exhaustion in his voice. “I’m glad you came.”

“I did it for the snacks.”

His deep chuckle makes my stomach do a weird flip.

“Come have a drink with me after the game?” he asks, a hint of that cocky tone mixed with a charming plea.

A short laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. “You do not owe me anything else. We’re good. Beyond good.”

“Good, but that’s not why I asked.”

“I’m not hooking up with you,” I deadpan.

“I said drink.” He enunciates the word.

“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be right now?”

“Yeah. I do as a matter of fact. If I don’t get out there soon, Coach is likely to bench my ass.”

But he doesn’t hang up like a sane person.

“What is he saying?” Alec asks, looking more entertained by the second.

I move the end of the phone away from my mouth. “He wants me to have a drink with him after the game.”

“Say yes,” he says immediately and loud enough that Brogan hears.

“See? Even Alec thinks it’s a good idea. Come on, one drink. I’m not so bad.”

“I think that’s debatable.”

Another deep chuckle. “I’m not hanging up until you say yes.”

A whistle blows on the field. I don’t know why I’m panicking—it’s his ass on the line, but suddenly I feel a frantic need to put an end to this phone call so he can get back to the game.

“Can we talk about this later maybe?”

“Nope.” He lets the p pop, and I swear I can tell he’s grinning.

The man is missing a few brain cells I think. Alec’s expression is starting to look concerned. Like Brogan should be.

“Fine. I’ll go,” I say, almost instantly regretting it.

He doesn’t immediately respond, and I wonder for a second if he’s played some cruel joke on me and is going to laugh and then shout, “Just kidding!”

But he doesn’t. He asks, “Really? You’re not just saying yes to get rid of me?”

That is exactly why I agreed.

“She’ll be there!” Alec yells from beside me.

“I don’t want to force you,” Brogan continues.

I groan. “I will be there. One drink.”

“Awesome. I gotta go. I’m texting you the address.”

“Maybe do that after the game,” I suggest. My heart flutters with excitement. Or maybe I’m having early signs of a panic attack. Yeah, that’s probably it.

“Right.” He laughs and then the background noise gets louder. “Gotta go. See you soon.”

The Mavericks win the game and Brogan had several nice catches that had the crowd on their feet, but I couldn’t enjoy the second half because I was a nervous wreck. Am I really going to meet up with Brogan Six at some bar? Given everything I know about him, it feels like a bad idea.

As if he’s reading my thoughts, Alec bumps my elbow. “It’s just a drink.”

“With a guy that I barely know, and the things I do know about him include some pretty major red flags.”

“Live a little, Lo. When’s the last time you went out with someone new? Luke doesn’t count.”

I level him with a glare.

He laughs at me, not all intimidated. “I will go with you, if you want.”

“You just want to hang out with the Mavericks.”

“Duh. Of course I do. Why don’t you?”

“He’s a total player.”

“Allegedly.”

“I looked him up.” He’s been tagged in photos with so many different women. He is enjoying the life of a rookie athlete, for sure. That’s great for him, but I don’t have to willingly throw myself in front of his wild party train. I have more self-preservation than that.

“It doesn’t have to be a big thing.” It’s apparent in his expression and tone he really believes that. Such a guy way to look at it. “Give yourself one night. Forget about that asswipe Chris, boring Luke, and everything else and go have fun.”

At the mention of Chris, I want to immediately deny that I have spent any amount of time since the engagement announcement thinking of him. But that would be a lie. Mostly, I’ve been imagining him tripping and falling into the cake at the reception or having an embarrassing diarrhea accident. Sierra said not to kill him, but she didn’t say I couldn’t drop Ex-Lax into his drink.

“Going home and polishing off the last of the Riesling sounds more fun.”

“I polished that off last night.”

“You bitch,” I say to him.

“You’re twenty-four, not a hundred and four. There’s still someone great out there for you.”

“Brogan Six?”

“No, probably not. But it starts with saying yes. And I’ll be on standby if you need a quick out. Text me.”

“I can’t tell if you’re pushing me so hard because you really think I should go or because he’s a Mavericks player.”

“A little of both,” he admits honestly. “But I don’t know. He’s gone to an awful lot of trouble to apologize and get you to go out with him. Maybe it could be something.”

I do not have those same delusions, but I figure the sooner I go and have a drink with him, the sooner Brogan will realize we’re not going to be getting naked. Ever.

The bar is not far from our apartment, so Alec drops me off on his way.

“Text me if you need anything and before you head home so I know you’re safe.” A slow grin spreads across his face. “Or if you aren’t coming home, let me know that too.”

“I’m coming home.”

“We’ll see.”

Rolling my eyes, I don’t bother arguing with him. I get out of the car and wave as Alec drives off. But there is a little spark of excitement as I walk up to the bar. I push it away, telling myself it has nothing to do with Brogan. Sure, he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever met, and yeah, the idea of kissing him isn’t exactly gross. But I’m not cut out for one-night stands. I like getting to know a person, going on dates, and all those beginning relationship milestones. Kisses turned into making out, then sex. Even if the relationship isn’t going the distance, I still like the buildup and tension before having sex. Even Luke and I had that and we were totally using each other for sex.

Noise blasts my ears as soon as I pull the door open. It’s packed in here. There are tables spread out around the space and the bar is in the middle along the back wall.

I step out of the doorway and move slowly toward the bar as I look around for Brogan. My nerves ramp up as I get farther into the crowded bar. I sidestep groups of people huddling together, talking and laughing, taking shots and holding drinks.

He’s here. I know he is. He texted and said as much about ten minutes ago while Alec and I were getting In-N-Out and chowing down in the parking lot. Nothing beats In-N-Out. Not even the free food and drinks at the game.

Stopping, I turn in a circle to look for him. I lift up onto my toes and get an extra inch to my height. And then I hear him. Or I hear a loud group of guys, and swivel around to find him in the center of them.

Brogan is standing at the bar with three guys who I assume are his teammates. I move forward, watching him.

He’s in jeans and a gray T-shirt that stretches across his broad chest and back.

If I had forgotten how good-looking he is—and I haven’t—I’d be struck with it all over again. He has this charm and aura about him. He gets better looking the longer you look at him. It’s his smile and this carefree approachability. He draws people in.

I know because I find myself walking toward him without ever making a conscious decision to do so.

Yes, I came here to meet up with him, but I think there was a small part of me that didn’t truly believe I’d go through with it even after I walked in and spotted him.

Just like the last time I saw him, it’s not easy to get to him. The area around the bar is filled with people and many have gravitated toward Brogan and his teammates.

I angle my body to squeeze past a group of girls forming a line, as if they’re the wall protecting any other females from getting to the hot football players. One of them shoots me a dirty look as I pass by.

My breathing picks up along with my heart rate as I get close enough that I can clearly hear his deep voice. His laughter is a big, boisterous noise that holds nothing back.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot someone else approaching him at the same time as me. The woman moves at a much faster pace than me. Boldly, she stalks right up to him. They exchange words. Him leaning down and her tipping her face up to speak only to him.

My steps falter. It feels like a bad time to go up to him, even if he did invite me, so I wait. Brogan nods his head and smiles as the woman stops talking, then Brogan leans over the bar to ask something of the bartender. It all happens quickly, but my anxiety spikes as I stand alone, uncertain of my next move.

The bartender hands over a shot of something to Brogan. I assume he’s just buying the woman a drink, but when he passes it over to her, she settles it between her cleavage. And then the guys all around him cheer and holler as she tips her chest up to him. He runs a hand along his jaw, that ever present playful grin on his face. I’m not sure he’s going to do it, but then she reaches up and grabs that gorgeous head of hair of his and buries his head in her breasts.

Judging by the hoots and laughter, he took the shot, but I march up to the bar, ignoring them completely. It’s funny in a what else did I expect from a guy who is getting panties sent to him kind of way. I knew this was his life but seeing it eight feet in front of me is a whole other thing. And I know that getting involved, even for one drink, is not for me.

“Can I get a shot of tequila?” I yell over the noise.

A large body knocks into me.

“Oh shit, sorry,” he says. His hands go to my waist as he steadies me. Those dark brown eyes meet mine and a slow smile spreads across his face. “London. You made it.”

“Yep. Here I am,” I say cheerily, stepping out of his hold. His busty friend is nowhere to be seen. “Just in time to see your no-hands shot-taking abilities.”

His mouth draws into a line. He has a great mouth with full lips and straight, white teeth. “I’m sorry about that. She came up to me and⁠—”

“Don’t care.” I hold up a hand so he doesn’t try to continue. “Look, it’s fine. Actually, no. It’s not fine. I don’t know why I said that.” A frenzied laugh escapes from my lips. “What kind of guy asks a girl to meet him for a drink and then decides to do a few body shots while he waits?”

I give him a full second to answer, but he must not know what to say. There really is nothing to say. I shouldn’t have come and we both know it.

“God, you really are good. You got me a little with the whole halftime call bit. Do you do that often? It’s perfect. Don’t change a thing.”

The bartender sets my shot in front of me.

“Thanks,” I say, then tip my head toward Brogan. “This is on him.”

I toss the drink back, ignoring the burn all the way down my throat. The liquor coats my insides with a rush of warmth. I will not cough and ruin this. “Thanks for the drink. We’re absolutely even now.”

I turn on my heel to head for the exit, brushing past him. I hear him calling my name, but I’m small and weave through people quickly to put distance between us. I finally cough and blow out a breath that feels like fire. Tequila was a bad choice. I’m full of those tonight.

I’m almost to the door when a familiar head of perfectly gelled hair walks through it. I’m so surprised to see him that it actually takes a few seconds for my brain to catch up. I suck in a breath as Chris stops and scans the bar, much like I had when I walked in.

I sidestep to hide behind a group of guys, peeking out to make sure I haven’t been spotted. And then I see her. Chris’s girlfriend.

She’s nearly as tall as him, with long blonde hair and perfect features. She has that bored, beautiful expression on her face, the kind that fills the pages of magazines. My stomach twists and I feel an odd sense of jealousy even though I’d never want Chris back in a million years. It still hurts to see him moved on with this gorgeous woman when I haven’t.

Admitting it sucks. The end of our relationship devastated me and though I’ve healed the hurt and realized I’m better off, I haven’t taken the next steps out of fear. I never want to feel the way I did then ever again.

I must stare at him too long from my hiding spot because Chris’s gaze flicks in my direction and we lock eyes. I squeak and duck fast behind the group, knocking into one guy who gives me a peculiar look when he sees me hunkering down and using him as a shield.

“Sorry,” I mutter, and then stick my head out again hoping Chris didn’t really see me. We lock eyes again. Dammit.

His brow is furrowed as he speaks to his girlfriend and then they walk in my direction. Oh no. No, no, no.

Of all the bars, Chris just had to be at this one tonight.

Panicked, I look around the bar. Brogan is five feet to my right, scanning over the crowd for me. And Chris is getting closer.

“I swear I saw her,” I hear him saying.

I consider sprinting past both of them out the door, but I’m not confident I won’t trip and fall or add some other humiliating bit to this night. I glance back at Brogan and groan.

Fuck my life.

I pick the lesser of two evils, moving to my right and making myself visible to Brogan. His expression relaxes when he spots me and he hurries over.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “That sucked. You’re right about all of it. I shouldn’t have done it. She asked me to buy her a drink, I didn’t think she was going to shove my face into her boobs.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s fine.” I sidestep him and then move behind him, putting his massive body between me and the last place I saw Chris.

“What is going on?” He lifts his hands to his sides and tries to turn, but I clutch his shirt. His back is muscular and his waist trim. He smells like cedar and something else…citrus maybe.

“Nothing. Just, uh, could you walk toward the door.” Maybe I can still get out of here without speaking to my ex. I have nothing nice to say and I promised Sierra I wouldn’t kill him.

“I can’t quite hear you.” He tries again to turn.

I open my mouth to repeat myself, but then it happens.

“Lo?” The deep voice from behind me sends ice down my spine. Since I haven’t mastered my disappearing act, I let go of Brogan and turn slowly.