Page 10 of Home Game

EMMETT

As we walked through the house, I couldn’t take my eyes away from Storm.

I’d been an asshole to him outside. I knew I had been, and it was uncomfortably different from how I usually treated anyone.

But from the moment I locked eyes with him, all I could sense was one giant, billowing red flag—like he had alarm bells, warning sirens, anddo not pass gowritten all over him.

Because Storm Rosling was clearly born to be a superstar.

He was one of the most attractive people I’d ever met in real life—the “Stormy Eyes” nickname lived up to the reality of him perfectly, and was ten times more arresting in real life than in pictures and videos. Gorgeous grey-blue eyes, glossy dark hair, a perfect body, and a look that could rip right through anybody in two seconds flat.

So I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Fixer Brothers were going to fight tooth and nail to have him on their show.

“This is one of my favorite parts of the house, and it really needs work,” Storm said now, showing us the big, recessed window in his dining room. It was cut out like an alcove, with awooden bench seat cut right into the window that jutted out over the back yard. “A little breakfast nook. The bench is wobbly as hell, and there’s water damage on the floor below. But it can be great.”

“We can fix it up beautifully,” Nathan assured him. “I love this nook, too.”

“I love traveling for football games, but coming home is always my favorite thing,” Storm said, looking over his kitchen. “I want it to be cozy and inviting andreal. Not too perfect and pristine like a museum.”

“My dad used to say, the best part of a vacation is coming home,” I said. “It’s always lucky if you feel that way.”

“Your dad must have been a good guy,” Storm said.

“He was.”

As we continued the tour, I knew that if Storm ended up on the TV show, he was probably going to be the most popular client they’d ever had.

…And then, inevitably, he was going to say or do one of his public bad-boy things again, ending up ruining the Fixer Brothers’ squeaky-clean reputation in the process. I could see the look in my boss’ eyes already, the inevitable disappointment if I lost the deal with Racks superstores because of some hotshot football player.

Cutmore wasn’t exactly a boss from hell, but he definitely didn’t like me. In fact, it seemed like Walter Cutmore was dead set on disliking me, ever since my dad had died.

But I was so goddamn close to making partner at the firm.

I knew I could do it, if everything just went right.

“I want to turn this into a banger forest party pad wonderland,” Storm was saying now, as he led us out into his backyard. “Pool with a swim-up bar. Built-in hot tub. Grill area. Some sort of nice gazebo that my friends can drink in, dance in, fuck in, hell, whatever they want.”

My skin prickled. He was planning on having thesebangerparties right next door to me?

The tour of his house only felt like a death sentence for my career. Storm was all charisma and charm to Shawn and Nathan. His house was the perfect fixer-upper mansion, ripe and ready to be renovated on TV.

When the meeting was over and the Fixer Brothers left a half hour later, I walked back over to my home feeling like a deflated balloon. Panic gnawed at my insides. What was I supposed to do? It was like I’d been given a complex calculus problem that I had no idea how to solve.

Here, Emmett: somehow make Storm Rosling into someone who isn’t a total marketing nightmare.

Try to save your career in the process.

Within five minutes of being home, I walked past the tall windows in my living room and saw a telltale ball of fluff in my backyard, playing around with Pepper. I marched out and picked up Oreo, who just lolled her tongue out at me, happy as a clam in my arms.

I wasn’t patching up another hole.

I took Oreo back out front and went straight to Storm’s front door, knocking on it three times before he came to swing it open.

“Thereyou are!” he said, reaching out to take her from my arms. He gave her a little kiss on top of her head. Oreo looked like a tiny guinea pig in Storm’s muscular arms.

It was wild, seeing someone so strong in real life. How sculpted he looked, from over a decade of hard work.

He set Oreo down and she curled right up next to his feet in the entryway. Relaxing.