Page 113 of Their Greatest Strength

“Oh, it’s in the game. I can’t have her embarrassed to be married to me.”

He scoffs. “That’s the spirit.”

I kiss my palm before blowing it at the stands. Blakely doesn’t react at first, but when Nate gives her a shove, she rolls her eyes and blows one back. I’m a big enough goof to make a show of jumping to snatch it out of the air.

“Christ,” Coach blows out, stalking to the group of players awaiting his orders.

He acts like he hates the showboating stuff. I know he’s just projecting.

Nate waves at me, and the guys beside him laugh, making a show of judging him. The one seated right beside Nate, wearing a Hayes jersey, leans over to say something to him, and it snuffs the excitement from his eyes.

My hackles rise, a hot streak of protectiveness climbing my spine. I make my way to the bench and kick Jaxon’s foot. He looks up from the tablet in his hands and lifts his brows.

“What’s up?”

“I need you to help me with something.”

He finishes going over the plays on the tablet and passes it off. “You name it.”

We walk away from the bench, and I give him a rundown of the guys beside Nate before explaining what I want him to do. His following grin drips with mischief as he snatches the blanket he was using earlier from the bench and brings it over.

When he uncaps a black marker and starts scribbling his signature on the blanket, I don’t ask where he got it from, not caring for the specifics.

“Make it out for Nate, a future MVP. He’s a massive Pythons fan and one of the only wide receivers I’ve ever met that can keep up with me,” I tell him, raising my voice over the noise in the stadium.

Jax glances up at Nate and gives him a wave before continuing to write on the blanket.

“Shouldn’t you sign it too, Bateman? Or maybe not since you already live with the kid. Considering he’s your brother-in-law, I’d expect he has unlimited access to your signature.”

The two men blanch at the information being dumped in their lap, and the one who whispered to Nate even goes so far as to lean away from him. As if that would take back what I saw him doing.

I focus solely on that guy, speaking loud enough for everyone around him to hear. “Nate’s my buddy. He can have anything hewants signed at any time. I’ve already let him sort through my old jerseys and take any that he wants. He’s family, and I’d do anything for my family.”

Jax finishes with the blanket and heads to the edge of the stands, waving for Nate to come toward the railing. The kid jumps out of his seat and pushes past the guys before rushing down the stairs.

He leans against the railing and beams at us with stars in his eyes. “Hi, Jaxon! Hi, Jamie!”

“Hey, man. This is for you. Feel free to rub it all over those assholes’ faces. I’m sure it’s got some of my sweat in the fabric,” Jax says, stretching an arm above his head to hand off the blanket.

We’ve drawn a crowd now, and security has started our way on the field. In the stands, a couple of people in orange jackets push past the fans taking this opportunity to snap pictures and hang their stuff over the railing for us to sign.

I take a picture with one of the younger fans and steal Jax’s marker to sign the baseball cap he hangs over the railing. Coach is blowing his whistle, trying to grab our attention again as more and more fans start coming toward us, realizing what we’re doing.

Nate has gone back to his seat, and I make sure he sees me lift a hand and give him a thumbs-up before Jax and I go back to the bench.

Coach scowls as we walk toward him but doesn’t scold us. Instead, he shoves the tablet back in Jax’s arms and points at the bench.

I sit beside Jax and bump his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“It’s like you said, anything for family.”

I’ve never minded nightclubs.Obviously, being a professional athlete helps with the small nuisances like waiting in lines, but still. The music, strobing lights, and lack of personal space don’t bother me.

Altitude is a club that the team goes to more often than any other. The VIP section is big enough to fit all of us, and the security is impressively vigilant. With Blakely beside me tonight, the last point is the most important.

She’s a goddamn sight in a tight black dress and her worn-down flats. Her brown hair is curled, hanging free down her back. I’ve been tempted more than once already tonight to bury my hands in it.

Red lip gloss gleams on her mouth when she spins to face me, her back pressing against the railing we were using to watch the crowds on the lower level. She bats her long black lashes, and I grip the railing on either side of her before leaning in, trapping her with my body.

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