Page 91 of Unrivaled

Grady’s first reaction wasno way. He didn’t need another permanent mark on his body.

But he wanted to try to fit in with this team. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his career bouncing from city to city because he didn’t have strong ties anywhere. He’d bought a house in anticipation of signing a contract extension. He could at least hear them out. “Tattoo what?”

“Roulette.”

Mitch took over the explanation. “See, Farouk here is the second-most-junior member of the team.”

If Grady remembered right, Farouk had signed with the Condors in the off season.

“And every time we have a new guy on a road trip, we make a bet.”

Naturally. “‘We’ meaning?”

“The new guy and the second-newest guy.”

At least Grady would only be subjected to this twice. “And what are the terms of the bet?”

Farouk grinned. “Okay, so, if I get more points than you on this road trip, you get a bad tattoo. If you get more points, I do.”

That was so stupid. No wonder the team loved it. Everybody loved a good story, and ugly tattoos made great ones. “Bad meaning crappy or bad meaning, like, ridiculous?”

Farouk rolled up his shirtsleeve to show off a well-crafted image of Baby Yoda drinking a bubble tea.

Grady snorted. “Okay. Before I agree to this… saying I lose—and I don’t intend to—do I get to choose my own dumb tattoo and where it’s going?”

Farouk and Mitch had a silent conversation. Mitch eventually answered, “Subject to approval as sufficiently stupid, yes.”

Fuck it. “Why not.” He and Farouk shook on it. “You’re going down, though.”

Farouk laughed at him. “We’ll see.”

Three minutes later, a WhatsApp message came through from Hedgie.

Grady almost didn’t open it. He couldn’t imagine it said anything he wanted to hear. But curiosity got the better of him, and eventually he opened it.

Max had no idea why you were mad at him. Whatever I said to you that pissed you off, it was a coincidence. He didn’t tell me shit.

Then:PS you’re a dick.

For a few heartbeats, Grady stared blankly at the messages. Then questions started to creep in. How did Hedgie know why Grady was mad, if Max hadn’t told him?

Baller, of course. He loved to meddle.

But did Grady trust the three of them?

And did it matter? At the end of the day, if he gave them the benefit of the doubt, then he and Max might still have a chance. That was worth the leap of faith. Grady might like his new team, might even like his new life, but he missed Max. He missed the person Max made him want to be.

Max had given him permission to be the kind of man who could make a bet about a stupid tattoo. But he also accepted Grady as a petty asshole who judged people for serving palm oil dessert and calling it ice cream.

Maybe Max was innocent and Grady had fucked up. If that was the case, he had to figure out how to fix it, if he could. How could he apologize?

But that wasn’t even the first question. The first question was how he could get Max to hear him out when they both knew he didn’t deserve it.

The Condors didn’t play Newark until the end of the regular season, three months from now. Grady would never forgive himself if he didn’t attempt to clear this up before then.

With nerveless fingers, he navigated to his contacts list and scrolled down to Shithead.

God, he’d been such an asshole. He made himself sick.

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