Page 1 of Always My Comfort

Prologue

JAXON

10 YearsAgo

“Touchdown! Ladies and gents, did you see that? Jaxon Dexter scored the first touchdown of the game, following right in the footsteps of his brothers! You better keep your eye on him, scouts! Football runs in his veins.”

The crowd screamed, waving cowbells in the air, their hoots and hollers echoing around the small field. My teammates tackled me, and the turf scratched my skin, but I couldn’t feel it. Not with their loud voices booming with praise.

The cheerleaders were waving their poms and cheering, all of them screaming my name.

At this moment, I was the king.

I was Jaxon Dexter, the younger brother of Archer, Dante, and Gage Dexter, all known as royalty on this field. I had a legacy to live up to, and I hated it.

“Dexter! Dexter! Dexter!” my teammates screamed, helping me to my feet. I stole a look into the crowd at the men who would decide if I would live the same legacy as my brothers—the scouts.

Archer, my oldest brother of four years, had gotten a full ride to a school with one of the best football programs. Just as he was about to hit NFL status, he sustained an injury, ending his football career.

Dante, older than me by three years, had followed in his footsteps, but he had made the league. His name held power and stature, a god I had to somehow live up to.

And then, there was Gage. Only two years separated us, but sometimes, it felt like a lifetime with how strained our relationship was at times. He also graduated with a full ride to college because of his talent, but he hated the game just like me, and he was the first Dexter to quit football.

And I was going to be the second.

Our dad had wanted us all to be in the league. He taught us the rules of the game before we even started elementary school. Archer had followed along his path, the perfect prodigal son… until he wasn’t. And Dad was so bitterly disappointed.

Mom had been the soft place to fall when Dad yelled at us for not running fast enough or throwing far enough. She was there with fresh lemonade and a smile so big that everything else melted away.

Dante attempted to please Dad. He had made it to the league; his name was always on the tips of everyone’s tongues in town. Dad was proud. Dante was now the favorite son, while Archer hid away in his room, denying seeing any of us and refusing help. My oldest brother had lost all hope.

The sport we had been groomed to love was something we were all starting to hate. Gage hated the game when he graduated from high school two years ago. He tried to keep it hidden from Arch and Dante, but I knew. We’d often talk about the possibility of a different life.

A row above the scouts sat my father. He was wearing a shirt with my jersey number on it, a big grin cracking his weathered face. This made him happy.

Us following in his footsteps made him smile like nothing I had ever seen before, and I wanted nothing more than to make him proud of me, just like he was of my older brothers.

I scored another touchdown by the end of the second quarter, and then, it was finally halftime. Dad was waiting for me outside the locker room, arms crossed over his chest lips, curled into a grin.

“You did good, son.” He clapped his hand onto my shoulder pads and yanked me in for a hug.

“Thanks, Dad.” I swept my wet hair off my forehead and looked out back toward the bright lights.

“Go refuel. The scouts are impressed. You should see an offer from them soon. Try to score another one before the game ends.” I nodded and headed into the locker room, where the water boy handed me a Gatorade.

“Good job out there, Dexter. You might just be the best Dexter I’ve had on my field,” Coach complimented. Red crept up my neck. Archer had been a king on the field; I couldn’t imagine throwing him off his throne, nor did I want to. Football had been everything to him, and now, it was gone. “Keep up the good work and bring us to the championships!” He slapped my back and then moved on to the next player.

I sat alone for the next few minutes, trying to regroup my thoughts. My phone buzzed on the bench next to me, and Archer’s face flashed on the screen.

I put the cold phone to my sticky face. “Surprised to hear from you,” I muttered, looking at my grass-stained cleats.

“You’re doin’ a good job out there, but your head isn’t in it. You could be better. I know you, Jax. You’re better than Dante and I put together.”

Arch had always known the inner workings of my mind before even I did. But voicing my thoughts on a game that was too important to my family felt damn near impossible.

“Just tired Arch. Tired of carryin’ the whole team,” I whispered so none of the other guys could hear me.

“You just need to impress the scouts. Doesn’t matter if the team loses. So long as you look good and score points, they’ll be interested.”

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