Page 4 of Mr. Irrelevant
This is just my luck. The hottest girl in Cleveland is asking me out and I have to turn her down because she’s the owner’s fucking daughter. But how do I do it without hurting her feelings? Gripping the back of my neck nervously, I shift from one foot to the other as I attempt to come up with an answer that doesn’t make me sound like an asshole.
“I—” I say, licking my lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Livvy. You seem really sweet, and you’re obviously gorgeous, but?—”
Before I can even finish my sentence, a loud, howling laugh bursts from her lips, echoing through the parking lot. She bends at the waist, slapping her hand against her knee as if I just told the most hilarious joke she’s ever heard. Fully confused at what the hell is happening, I look around the empty space for a fucking clue, not finding one before sliding my eyes back to her cautiously. “Are you okay?”
She cackles for several more seconds, then stands straight, wiping a stray tear from under her eye and sucking in a tiny snort. “Oh my God, that was good. You’re funny, Maddox.”
“I—what?” I question. Is this girl on something? Because she just went from normal to batshit crazy in point-two seconds. I kind of felt safer when I thought she was going to jack my car.
Training her eyes on my face, her smile slowly fadesas her brows shoot up. “Oh no,” she says. “You were serious. You thought I was asking you on a date?”
My cheeks heat with embarrassment, and I pull at the collar of my hoodie because suddenly, I think I’m choking. How did I read her wrong? She literally asked what I was doing tonight…what else would I assume she meant? Then again, she’s a fucking knockout. She probably has a line ten miles long of people willing to go out with her. I doubt she needs to approach random men in poorly lit parking lots.
Way to make it awkward, Dane.
“Sorry,” I reply. “You just caught me off guard. To be honest, I have no idea what the fuck is going on, Livvy.”
She swallows, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. It exposes her slender neck, but before I can fixate on it, I whip my gaze back to hers, trying to be as professional as possible. This is my boss’ daughter, and after my on-field performances the past two weeks, I need to tread carefully with the entire Grant family. “I don’t date football players.” She pauses, her eyes flicking away for just a moment before returning to me. “I just…saw a few things today and have an idea. Will you meet me at the practice facility tonight? I know it’s a weird request, but please just trust me.”
I shouldn’t. She’s the last person I need to be caught hanging out with. But I can’t deny that her words have piqued my interest. What did she see today? And how will meeting her tonight change it? I know I can’t continue to just sit around and watch my career godown the drain. This is my one shot to prove to myself and everyone else that I belong here.
“Fine,” I say on a resigned exhale. “But if we get in trouble, I’m saying you kidnapped me.” I swear, I’m like one of those kids who touches a hot stove after you tell them not to, even though they know they’re going to get burned.
A soft giggle bubbles out of her, and I can’t help the subtle smirk that tugs at the corner of my mouth. “We won’t get in trouble,” she replies. “The groundskeeper leaves at ten, and there’s a hidden entrance at the back of the building. There aren’t any security cameras on the field, so nobody will even know we were there. I promise.”
I shove my hands into the pockets of my sweats, raising a brow. “Okay. I’m trusting you, Livvy.”
“Thank you, Maddox. You won’t regret it.”
FOUR
LIVVY
“This is a joke,right?Thisis your ‘hidden entrance’?” Maddox says, air-quoting the last two words as he stares at the small hole in the fence surrounding the practice facility. “There’s no fucking way I’m fitting in there. Also, this seems kind of…illegal.”
I tilt my head, staring at it as I consider the sentiment. “It’sdefinitelyillegal. But only if we get caught. Let’s go.” Drowning out his objections, I duck down, lifting the chain link fence and squeezing myself through before standing to my full height. I reach down, wrapping my fingers around the cool metal and yanking up to make room for him to follow.
“Great. Good talk,” he replies sarcastically as he lowers to his knees, taking several seconds to fit his wide shoulders into the minuscule amount of space I’m giving him. He crawls forward, grunting and muttering unintelligible grievances, but continues until he’s risingnext to me. “How the hell did I let you talk me into this? I didn’t ask for a single detail—just followed you into a dark, creepy field, and now I’m committing a felony because youhave an idea. At this point, I’m just crossing my fingers that I don’t end up chained to a radiator in your basement.”
I narrow my eyes in his direction, placing a hand on my hip. “You know, for someone who said he’d trust me, you have an awful lot of questions. Do you really think I’d bring you here if I thought it would end poorly? I need the Renegades to win games, and that starts with you. If, after tonight, you don’t want my help, I won’t bring it up again. But for now, I need you to give me a chance.”
His shoulders loosen, and he exhales a resigned breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s been a weird twenty-four hours. First, the game, then meeting you in the parking lot, and agreeing to come here five minutes later.” He looks up at me, his deep gray eyes showing so much vulnerability. “I need us to win, too. The fans deserve a team they can be proud of.”
He’s right, they do. The city of Cleveland has the most hardcore, loyal fans, and I’d love nothing more than to parade a Super Bowl trophy up and down the streets for them to celebrate. Of course, we have a long road ahead of us before that’ll ever happen. It’ll take years of building the perfect group of players and coaches, but we’ll get there. Men like Maddox Dane, who were born to encourage and lead, make the biggest impact on their teammates—he just needs a little push.He’s nervous and hesitant on the field, and it’s preventing him from showing the raw talent he has buried under all that inexperience. If I can help him get more comfortable in his own skills and give him a few tips along the way, it’ll make such a difference in the entire Renegades’ dynamic.
“Then let’s give them one,” I reply, lifting my chin confidently. His responding smile causes the tension in my body to release slightly as I turn away and lead him toward the practice field. It’s dimly lit, but the moon is bright, so we shouldn’t have a problem seeing. As we make our way toward the end of the tunnel, I stop, lift the top of one of the many storage hoppers lining the walls, and pull out a football.
“You seem to really know your way around the place,” he says, looking over at me with a grin. “I’m guessing this isn’t your first midnight B and E at this establishment.” I slide my gaze his way, narrowing my eyes.
“If you must know, no, it isn’t.” I almost tell him everything—that this is where I go when I need to justfeel. That the hustle and bustle of a busy stadium on Sunday is great, but sometimes I just need a walk along the yard lines, the smell of the grass flooding my senses as a reminder of what made me love the game in the first place. But I decide to keep it to myself. I barely even know Maddox, and unloading my disappointment over the fact that my childhood dreams didn’t pan out is the last thing I need to do. He definitely won’t let me help him if he thinks I’m just some spoiled little rich girlwho wishes she weren’t next in line to take over the team he plays for. “Sometimes I just need to go somewhere quiet,” is what I settle on.
“You’d love my hometown, then,” he replies as we exit the tunnel and continue walking down the sideline. “Fallbrook is a little blip on the map. For fun, you have two choices—either hang out at the river or play football. There’s no shortage of quiet nooks to hide in where nobody would ever find you.”
“Sounds nice.” I smile, keeping my eyes glued to the football in my hand as we turn at the thirty-yard line and head toward the center of the field. “So, since your options were limited, have you always played football?” I already know the answer, but I want to hear it anyway. He doesn’t need to be made aware of the fact that I know him—and every other player on the Renegades’ roster—better than he knows himself. Not in a creepy way, but I learned everything I could about the guys we drafted, because when it comes to running a team, it’s so much more than just stats and rankings. You can have the most talented players in the league, but if they’re shitty human beings and selfish teammates, you won’t get far before it all crashes down.
“Yep, pretty much,” he answers. “It’s a way of life where I’m from. I knew right away that I’d do whatever it took to go pro. I almost didn’t make the cut, but somehow, here I am. I’m not the most talented guy here, but somebody obviously sees something in me.” I slow down, stopping at the right hashmark and smiling to myself because, well,Isee it. It’s the reason he’s inCleveland right now…and why I brought him here tonight.
“You’re very talented,” I say, thinking carefully about my next words. He lacks the type of confidence that comes with in-game experience, but if I can make him more secure about his abilities, he’ll be less likely to fold under pressure.
