Page 41 of Power Play

Ron comes galloping down the hall to Tim’s office, where he looks at me, then looks at Thad, then back to Tim.

He claps his hands together, too.

“Look atthis!”he says. “The two local superstars here together. We weren’t sure if you’d still be here, Thad, by the time Levi got here. But damn are we glad you are. You two can get acquainted before we actually film the segment. Do y’all know each other? Thad, this is—”

“Levi Buck,” he says, walking across the room and sticking a large hand out in my direction. I’m bigger than most people I come in contact with. I’m 6’3”, 220 pounds. But with Thad, we’re eye to eye. He might have ten-plus years of youth on me, but I have four years of pent-up hatred that I am confident would give me quite the edge. While we stare at each other, everything seems to freeze for the shortest flash of a moment. His eyes are light, happy, carefree. He doesn’t remember me. He has no idea that I know what he’s done.

And he has no idea how badly I want to break his fucking arm. But I take in a deep breath, picturing Lo’s face. Remembering the promise I’ve made her.

Twice.

“It is so nice to meet you,” he says as I slowly raise my hand to his. “I hear you’re good friends with Tyson Calway.”

Just the mention of the Calway name makes my jaw twitch.

I want to beat his fucking brains out.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, “we’ve been best friends since middle school. I hear you’re one of Coach Calway’s biggest prodigies,” I say as our hands let go. I watch his head tilt slightly to the side. I said it like a compliment, but it was also meant as a little dig. It’s not a secret that he’s probably the best football player to come out of Crooked Creek. But Coach Calway has a long history of producing Division One athletes. A few have walked onto a pro field over the last three decades. Thad will be the first to be drafted, but I want to make it clear that I know there were many before him. And there will be many after him. If anyone should get to remind him that he’s notcompletelyspecial, I’m glad it’s me.

But he holds his hands up and smiles, feigning some kind of bullshit modesty.

“I am just lucky he got his hands on me,” he says. “The man is a football genius.”

I nod.

“That he is,” I say. There’s an awkward silence, then I turn to Ron and Tim. “So, should we talk through this segment?”

Ron claps his hands together again—he seems to do that a lot—and he and Tim lead us to the big leather couches at the corner of the massive office, where we sit down and start talking out what it will look like.

I’m trying hard to listen, but my mind keeps drifting to this beautiful fucking vision of me holding him down, turning that pretty little face into a pulp. He has the all-American-boy thing down pat. He nods and smiles, his teeth are whiter than a fucking Ken doll, and his big blue eyes and blond hair make him look like he was created by some of the artificial intelligence shit. He keeps throwing compliments at Tim, and Tim is eating it the fuckup. I want to gag.

I nod in time so that it looks like I’m really into it. I answer a couple of questions here and there. But mostly, I’m just sitting here, stewing, trying to figure out some way—anyway—that I could fix this situation for Lo without completely going against the one thing she begged me not to do. Without fucking up so bad that I lose her.

Because losing her isn’t an option.

And just as Tim says he likes what we have, I have an idea.

We stand to shake hands, and I thank them for their time. One of the front-desk girls comes out to show us the way back to the garage, and Thad and I walk shoulder to shoulder. Before we walk out into the garage, I turn to him.

“This is probably a dumb question, being that you’re about to start your professional sports career, but do you have plans right now, Thad?” I ask him. His eyebrows jump with surprise. I smile. “I’d like to take you out for a few drinks. You know, to celebrate. Maybe give you some pointers on how to make the smooth transition fromkid from Crooked Creektointernational celebrity.” I shrug and give him my biggest, warmest smile. He smiles back like a stupid fucking kid.

“That would be awesome,” he says. “I’ll cancel whatever else I have. Thank you so much, Levi.”

I nod, leading him to my car.

“Of course,” I say.

A few minutes later, we’re pulling into the side lot of this club I’ve been to with the team a few times when we’d be in town. It’s called DaMillo’s. The front is a bar, and the back is a gentleman’s club—but only for those who know. One of the guys on the team got word from one of the Drifters' players. He knew the owner, and he promised discretion from his girls.

It’s funny, though. Since I’ve been back this time, since Lo, I haven’t even thought of it. I haven’t even thought of another woman, period. I haven’t looked at another woman as anything other than another human being walking this Earth. Because my eyes, my heart, my fucking soul…they’re all spoken for.

I park and knock on the side door, just like we did the last time we came. A man opens it, looks at me, and smiles.

“You’re Levi Buck, right?” he asks. I smile and nod. He opens the door for us to come in and shows us back down the hallway to where I recognize the entrance of the strip club to be. “Can I get you boys a table?” he asks. I shake my head. “Actually, we will take a room.”

Thad’s eyes grow wide, and a childish smile sprouts on his face. I hate his fucking face. I hate his dumbass smile. But he has to think I’m like him. That I’m into the same shit he’s into. He has to trust me.

The bouncer leads us to a door and knocks once. When no one answers, he opens it and shows us in. There are two leather loveseats and a small table. In front of us is a small stage boxed in on three sides with a pole in the middle.

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