Page 41 of The Play

Had he been? Well, kind of. Deacon hadn’t seemed nearly as into it as Nate was—which made sense.

“Sort of,” Grant said.

“So you got jealous. Confronted him. Oh, this is hot,” Darcy said.

He hated to burst her bubble.

“Actually,” Grant said, hesitating. “It wasn’t like that. He sort of . . .ran off. To the bathroom. When he saw me. And I followed him, to make sure he was okay. I didn’t really want to talk about um . . .the other night, but he did, so I reminded him of all the reasons why we couldn’t do anything about it, and then I kissed him.”

“You told him why you couldn’t kiss him and then you . . .kissed him?” Darcy’s jaw fell open.

Grant nodded, reluctantly.

Stated like that, it sounded even less romantic than it had been in Grant’s head. God, why had he done that?

Because he hadn’t believed he’d have another chance.

Because he’d intended to make sure he didn’t have another chance.

But now, he was left feeling . . .glad, but also disappointed. Happy, but also filled with regret.

It wasn’t great.

It wasn’t the epic star-crossed kind of love story Grant had hoped, for all those years, that he and Deacon might find someday.

“God, no wonder you can’t sleep,” Darcy said.

“Thanks,” he retorted.

She leaned over the takeout containers, rooting around for a wing, chewing away on it happily. “You could always fix it.”

“I don’t think so,” Grant said. “I was supposed to be doing the opposite of kissing him. So kissing him again sounds like . . .”

Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever freaking had.

“Sounds like a plan,” Darcy finished for him triumphantly.

“It would be a huge mistake,” Grant said firmly. Hoping he’d manage to convince both her and himself.

His phone rang before Darcy could continue trying to convince him, thank God. Glancing down at the screen, he realized it was Nicole, the head of PR for the Condors, calling.

He picked up. “Hey, Nic, everything alright?” Usually they spent Sundays together, but on a non-game Sunday, there would be no real reason for her to be calling him. Except for bad reasons.

His stomach sank, and he set his cider down on the coffee table.

“I just got a head’s-up that there’s about to be a breaking story,” Nicole said, and she sounded about as concerned as Grant suddenly felt. “I can’t get much out of my contact, but the rumor is, it’s Rex.”

“What?” That wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. He’d expected that someone had seen him at the Pirate’s Booty. Not seen him in the bathroom with Deacon—because he’d known the bathroom was empty when they’d kissed. But maybe someone had seen . . .something.

But that wasn’t it at all. No, this was going to be a different kind of pain in his ass.

“Yes. I’m sorry to have to say this thing with Rex is probably going to blow up. It seems he has an axe to grind with the Condors.” Nicole sighed.

Rex James had been a corner on the Condors. He’d made it through both Deacon and Grant’s stringent vetting process for keeping players and staff. Grant had been a little hesitant—a few times he’d believed Rex was only telling him what he wanted to hear, not the truth, but he’d also needed to field a complete team of players, and Rex was a decent enough corner.

But then Rex had gotten injured, and right on the heels of that, under the influence of pain meds in the hospital, he’d inadvertently revealed that he’d been betting on NFL games.

His own games.

---