Page 103 of Irresistibly Risky

“Coach,” I greet him.

“I suspected there was something between you and my daughter when you blew into my office today and looked like you were ready to tear me apart for upsetting her. Then when I saw you two talking on the field and later running off claiming a family emergency, I knew my hunch was right. What I didn’t know when I followed you home is that you’re the father of my grandson.” His gaze pointedly drops to the two boxes in my hands, and he clearly overheard me on the phone with Callan. I called Mason my son not even a minute ago.

“Since we’re showing our hands, you should know that I know about you too. Everything.”

He squints at me, wondering what I’m getting at, suggesting that there is more beyond him simply being Wynter’s father, which he just admitted to when he referred to Mason as his grandson. I was posturing, riding on my own hunch after my conversation with Gary that day by the pool.

But his expression tells me I’m dead on with that.

“What exactly is it that you think you know about me?”

All I offer him in return is a smirk.

“Tell me how you got to be the father because as far as I know, Wynter never stepped foot in Boston before she moved up here.”

“Honestly Joe, it’s none of your business, nor is my relationship with Wynter. You haven’t earned any details from her, so you sure as hell haven’t earned any from me.”

“She’s living with you?”

I shrug and watch as his nostrils flare and his jaw tics. It’s his tell. I may always lose at poker to Aurelia, but I’ve played football long enough to know how to read an opponent.

“She’s too good for you,” he barks.

I laugh because that’s about the least insulting thing this man could say to me. “I know.”

“She’s with you because of the kid. Not because she cares about you. Wynter hates football players.”

“The way I see it, Coach, she only hates one.”

He takes a step forward, trying to get into my personal space. He’s a big guy. Tall and broad and, at one time, a hell of a quarterback. Only I’ve got two inches and about thirty pounds of muscle on him. I might be fucking up my career in all kinds of ways, but he needs to know he doesn’t intimidate me.

“What happens when I trade you at the end of the season?” he asks coolly. “No matter the outcome of the surgery, I was getting rid of you anyway. You’re worth a lot for a trade and Leo can easily be the future of this team. Not you. What happens then? You think she’ll move with you?” He makes a tsking noise as he shakes his head. “Her career is far more important to her than you will ever be. I know your kind, Reyes. I was you. And while I might not have done right by my daughter in the past, I won’t allow her to make the same mistakes her mother did.”

He just confirmed what I had already suspected. I’ll never play for the Boston Rebels again. The pain that comes with that discovery is nothing short of a slice through the heart. My team, my town, my family. They’re all here.

“By mistake you mean marrying a lying, cheating, child-abandoning asshole?” I take a step this time, getting right up in his face and using my height and size to my advantage. “You think you know me? Why? Because I was a rock star for a while and now, I play professional football? Because I fucked around a bit before I met Wynter?” I glare down at him. “You’re a fool. You know nothing about me, and nothing about Wynter. You think intentionally trying to tear her family apart will help you win her favor? It won’t. I know exactly what you’re attempting to do with her and let me save you the time. She’s not interested in having anything to do with you. Wynter, unlike you, is loyal. She is loving. She wants what’s best for our son. She is my fucking north star, and I will always find my way home to her and our son. Always.”

I shoulder past him, making sure I bump him as I go. At this point, it doesn’t matter. I’m gone from the team in his eyes, and he’s the coach with the power to make it happen. I’m simply the ball player. One with limited options if I want to continue to play.

“Nice to know you’re so worried about my son that you didn’t even ask if he’s okay or why I’m purchasing fever medicine for him. Asshole.”

I walk up to the register, pay for the medicine, and then walk home to my family, fuming and burning with a rage so deep I’m positive there is no end to it. I’m not an angry man. It’s not who I am. Until you fuck with me. Until you fuck with my people.

Then I’m ruthless.

Joe Cardone might mistake my easy smiles and quick laughs for being stupid. For being a pushover. For not being all that serious. But he’s got another think coming his way.

I pull up Lenox’s number the second the elevator doors close behind me because there is no way I’d dare text him this. He picks up on the second ring with a grunt.

“I need intel on Cardone. Get me everything you can.”

I can practically hear him smiling when he says, “I was wondering when you’d ask. You sure you want to go down this road, and how deep are we talking?”

I start to pace around the small metal box as it climbs floors. “As deep as you can go. He’s fighting dirty, and I plan to fight even dirtier.”

“I’m on it.”

“Good. Thanks, man, I owe you.”

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