Five hours on a plane gives you plenty of time to think and plan.
My plan was easy.
Start living life.
I’m not sure what that looks like exactly, but finding my tribe is at the top of my list. Having fun and enjoying my senior year are both right under that. Breaking the news to my father that I don’t want to dance anymore is on there somewhere, but I’m dreading checking off that box.
Getting a boyfriend wasn’t on my list, but looking around at the hotties in this room, that may have to change. Murphy is a ginger giant, reminding me of Prince Harry, if he was a tiny bit taller with muscles the size of my head and mossy green eyes. Sebastian is rocking the tall, dark, and handsome thing. He is leaner than Murphy, but he towers over Cooper and Brady.
But of course, it’s the quarterback, Brady, who’s got my attention. With his warm brown hair, a little too long, whiskey-colored eyes, a mix between brown and gold, and, from what I can see, the body of Captain America, he is the epitome of my type. And, his hands are enormous.
HUGE.
I desperately want to know what those calloused fingers would feel like on my skin. I have never had such an intense, immediate reaction to a guy before.
As a rule, I have always stayed away from Cooper’s teammates. It has never been worth the hassle of the hissy fit he will inevitably throw if someone gets near the fragile flower he thinks I am. No one is good enough for me in his mind. I hate it.
When I glance across the kitchen island, a slow smile spreads across Brady’s handsome face. Cooper is in the other room calling in our takeout. Murphy and Sebastian both just headed into the family room to turn on the pregame for Dad’s game tonight. The guys move around each other with an ease that shows the comfort level they have with one another.
There is just something about this guy sitting across from me that is drawing me in. Leaning forward, Brady asks, “So do you watch your dad’s games? Or does that fall under the ‘I hate football’ category?”
“Seeing them all in their element is always fun.” I tilt my head and smile the way the press manager taught me when dad’s team went to the Super Bowl three years ago. The answer is the same, too. I’m from a family of legends, and my job is to look good for the media coverage. “Do you love it, QB, or is it something you do because you’re good at it?”
This time when Brady smiles at me, it’s crooked and sexy. This is his real smile, not the practiced one for everyone else.
This smile is a danger to my heart.
“Wow. You think you’ve me figured out already. How about I love it, and I’m good at it. Being on that field, controlling it; it’s a high I’ve never felt anywhere else. The fact that I’m pretty good at it and might be able to turn something I love into a career is definitely a bonus.”
“Good. My dad always said the best players play because they love it.”
“Sounds like a smart guy. Your turn. What’s your story, Natalie?”
I think about that question for a moment. What is my story? “You know, I don’t know if anyone’s asked me that before. I’m trying to figure out my story. Right now, I am Superbowl winning coach Joe’s Sinclair’s daughter. Occasionally, I’m Heisman runner up Declan Sinclair’s sister. I have always been Cooper Sinclair’s twin. And if my mom had her way, I’d be Prima Ballerina Natalie Sinclair.”
“Is that who you want to be?”
Shaking my head, no, I answer, “Take a girl to dinner before you interrogate her, QB.” I smile up at him through my eyelashes, hoping he’ll take the bait, but no such luck. It’s as if he shakes himself out of the conversation we were just in, and a wall goes up between us.
“You heard your brother, Nat. You are a no-go area. Come one.” He takes my hand, and I swear to God, electricity spikes through my entire arm. “Let’s go see what the guys are doing in the other room.”
The guys decide on no party tonight. Instead, the pizza is delivered, and we watch Dad’s final preseason game, sprawled out all over a giant, dark brown, buttery soft leather sectional. It’s shaped like an enormous U with reclining chairs on each end and a matching leather ottoman with a square tray sitting in the center. This furniture seems to be made for giants, not normal-sized men.
Brady is on one end, and Murphy is on the other. Cooper is in the middle, and Sebastian is on the floor.
These guys are hilarious, and I can see why Cooper gets along so well with them. They give as good as they get. There is a ton of laughter tonight, and I haven’t had this much fun in months. I eat pizza and wings, drink a soda, and don’t even feel guilty about the number that will be higher on the scale tomorrow, because I won’t be putting on my ballet leotard again.
It’s been so fun watching the guys tease Cooper. He needs that. As a high school football player who is the son of a famous coach, everyone kisses his ass. These guys do the opposite, and I love it.
Eventually, the game ends, Dad’s team winning by two touchdowns. “Little Sinclair.” I look up at Murphy, whose eyes are already laughing. Then he throws a football at my head. “Think fast!”
“Son of a bitch” Cooper dives for the ball like it’s a bomb, and I laugh, then catch it.
“Come on, Cooper. Chill. I didn’t throw it hard.” He’s belly laughing now. “She’s got good reflexes.”
Cooper growls. “That’s because dudes have been throwing her around on stage for years.”
Well. That got everyone’s attention. “Spill, little Sinclair. What’s he talking about?”
“Seriously? Little Sinclair?” I try for an evil glare, but everyone laughs harder.
From his spot next to me, Brady sighs, “Nat, you’re the size of Tinker Bell. Cooper has got to be a foot taller than you. We all are. You are Little Sinclair. You can’t blame him.”
“You familiar with that particular fairy Brady?” I cock an eyebrow at him.
Brady sits up. “I sure am. My sister went trick or treating dressed as her for three years in a row.” He seems to lower his voice at the end of his statement.
Then Murphy starts laughing. “Yeah and QB over here had to go as Peter Pan to make his sister and Mom happy. Picture Brady in green tights.” Murphy is laughing so hard he doesn’t see the pillow getting thrown at his face until it smacks him in the nose. “Suck it up, Brady boy. When we were ten years old, I got to be a cool Optimus Prime, and you wore tights.”
Brady mumbles something that sounds like, “I had a bow and arrow.”
“Man, I would have paid to see that.” Cooper hasn’t stopped laughing yet.
Sebastian seems to be the quiet one of the group. I have barely heard him speak tonight. He’s soft-spoken when he does choose to say something, but he has been quick to laugh and seems to have a smile on his face most of the night. I have a feeling he is the silent but deadly type. You never see him coming.
I make a mental note not to piss him off.
Of course, he’s the one to question what my brother just said. “Seriously, Natalie. What’s Cooper talking about? Why do guys throw you around a stage?”
“I’m a ballet dancer.” I leave it because I don’t want to start discussing things I am not ready to get into with my brother just yet.
“You any good?” Murphy has a devious look on his face, and I can’t help but smile.
Before I get to answer, Cooper does. “She’s a ballet dancer, not a stripper, man, stop your gross thoughts before you go there. And she’s great, man.”
God, I missed my brother.
“They call them lifts, Coop. Guys don’t throw me around the stage. I jump. They lift.” I shake my head before standing up.
“I’ll lift you if you need somebody to help you out there, Little Sinclair.” No sooner does Murphy utter those words and wink before he gets two pillows to the face, and I think Brady might have actually growled.
God, that was hot.
Standing up, I look at the guys. “Wow. You are a violent bunch.”
Everyone turns my way and just stares at me like I am cr
azy.
“Okay, then. My flight was at the crack of dawn this morning, and I am completely exhausted. Jet lag is a real thing. It was great to meet you guys. Thanks for making today suck a little less. I’m going to bed. Will you all be here in the morning?”
“Nope. We have practice at seven tomorrow and then again at three. I’ll be home tomorrow night. I’m guessing Dad is going to try for dinner as soon as he can since you’re here now. Either way, there are a few parties we can crash tomorrow night.”
“Sounds good, Coop. Good night, guys.” I start to walk away, but I swear I can feel someone staring at me. I peek over my shoulder quickly to see if I’m crazy. I’m not.
Brady is watching me walk away, and judging by the look on his face, he likes what he sees.
Hmm. Is he interested? I can work with this. I may put an extra sway in my step as I walk away.
Game on.
3
Natalie
A muffled sound wakes me up and takes me a minute to register what it is. I think it was a door shutting. Reaching over, I grab my phone off of my nightstand to check the time. I’ve only been in bed for a few hours. My body hasn’t processed the West Coast/East Coast time difference yet, and I feel like I barely slept at all. I stretch out and look around my room again. There is a faint streetlight filtering in through the curtains.
Judging by the way my father had this room decorated, he must think I am still in my fairy princess phase.
The space is gorgeous and would be a little princess’s dream, but I’ve outgrown my belief in those types of fairy tales. The walls are a light dove grey with elegant, white dupioni silk curtains edged in pale pink stitching stretching from the floor to ceiling on all six windows. The bed is a beautiful, king-sized, white canopy bed with gauzy, white fabric hanging from the canopy's top. An oversized white comforter that reminds me of a cloud and pale pink pillows top it off. Lucky for me, it is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept on.
The dresser is an oversized white dresser with an ornate white mirror. There is a pale pink vanity that is fit for a queen with a small vanity stool topped with grey faux fur. Even the area rug is pale pink, white, and dove grey with hints of baby blue. It’s pretty, and I would have loved it when I was ten.
I make a mental note to get room darkening curtains or shades.
Sleep is going to be an issue tonight. After tossing and turning, I decided to head down to the kitchen for something to drink and to hunt for melatonin. Mom always has a bottle near the cold medicine and Ibuprofen in the kitchen, and I’m hoping that’s a habit Dad adopted, too. There is a muted light coming from the family room, and it looks like the guys are passed out on the couches. I pad lightly into the kitchen, not wanting to wake anyone up, but then have to muffle a scream.
Sebastian is sitting at the counter, watching me.
“Jesus Christ, Sebastian. You scared me half to death.”
“Sorry, Natalie. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m a shit sleeper. I was just getting a drink. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
“You know, I think that’s the most you’ve said to me all night.” He looks incredibly uncomfortable right now, like I’ve caught him doing something wrong.
“I learned a long time ago that Murphy would talk enough for all of us.”
Sebastian seems like the type of guy that would get more out of watching a conversation and people’s reactions to it than being an active participant in it.
“I think I understand that.” Sebastian lifts a cup to his mouth, and I’m not surprised. “Is that chocolate milk?” My dad is always talking about what a good recovery drink low-fat chocolate milk is after a workout. He was always trying to get me to drink it. Maybe one day he’ll remember that I don’t like to drink milk.
Dipping his head to cover what I’m guessing is embarrassment, he answers, “Yeah, it’s chocolate milk. There is always some in this fridge. I should probably feel bad because Cooper never drinks it. I think it might just be me. Your dad mentioned a while ago that we should all be drinking low-fat chocolate milk in the summer, especially. Said the sodium in it would help with cramps too. I still feel like a little kid when I’m drinking it.”
“That’s funny. My dad loves chocolate milk, but it has to be the store-bought kind, not the kind you mix yourself. You guys spend that much time here? That’s got to be nice for Cooper. I was worried that senior year would suck being the new kid. It seems like Cooper has found himself a crew.”
“Not just Cooper. We’ve got your back too. You may not know us yet, but we feel like we already know you. Cooper talks about you all the time. It feels like we know you already. He couldn’t wait for you to get here. Kept saying it was wrong having you across the country. Pretty sure it was driving him nuts to have this house to himself.”
“Thanks, Sebastian. I appreciate it.” I hear someone else moving around and turn to see who.
Brady’s walking into the kitchen with low slung blue basketball shorts hanging off his hips and no shirt.
Oh. My. God. His body is incredible. It’s dark in the kitchen, but I swear I just counted eight freaking abs, and he has a light dusting of hair leading down to that elusive V that turns girls like me stupid. I’ve seen men built like this before, but none of them have made my entire body feel like it’s on fire like it does now. I’m hot everywhere, and suddenly, I am very aware that I am sitting here in a cami and booty shorts. My hair is down and probably looking like a rat’s nest after tossing and turning in bed, and I have no makeup on. Not to mention, I don’t even have a bra on. I’m not usually too worried about what I’m wearing, as I’m used to being in very little for dance. My boobs are on the smaller side, but right now, I just know that both these guys can see my nipples poking through this top.
I should have thought it through before I came downstairs.
Shit.
4
Brady
I was already having a hard time sleeping tonight. Thoughts of a small pixie kept drifting through my head. No doubt Natalie is beautiful, but after spending a few hours with her, it was obvious she was so much more. She had this sarcastic sense of humor that I wasn’t expecting. It was fun to watch her come out of her shell. Her answers to our questions got less rehearsed and more real. It made me want to get to know her better. I also caught myself a few times getting annoyed when Murphy would go out of his way to touch her. He wasn’t being a creep, but Murph is an overly affectionate, flirty fucker, and it bugged the hell out of me.
I didn’t want it to bug me.
I don’t date.
I don’t do relationships.
Relationships get complicated and complicated screws with my goals.
My goal this year is to win the state championship that slipped through our grips last year. I’ve already signed my letter of intent for Kroydon University and have a full scholarship and promise of the starting quarterback position waiting for me. Pissing off my new tight end before we’ve played a single game is not a goal of mine, and I’m pretty sure that Cooper would lose his shit if I told him that I wanted to date his sister.
Even with telling myself this, I can’t stop myself from getting up when I hear a distinctly feminine voice floating in from the kitchen. Looking around the room, I see Murphy asleep on the couch, still snoring, and no Bash on the other side of the room. I guess he’s in the kitchen with Natalie. I might be an asshole because I’m trying to convince myself that I can’t date Natalie Sinclair, but I sure as hell know that I don’t want one of my best friends to take the choice from me.
Walking into the kitchen, I see Natalie and Bash sitting at the island. She’s wearing the tiniest little shorts and a white tank top. Her golden blonde locks are messy and falling down around her shoulders, framing that gorgeous make up free face. I momentarily picture waking up next to this girl before quickly forcing myself to shake the image from my head. “Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?”
“Nah, man. I was just grabbing a drink. I�
��m going to try to crash for a little longer before we have to get up for practice. Night, Nat.” Sebastian rinses his glass and heads back to the couches.
Coming to a stop next to the refrigerator, I lean back against the counter and cross my ankles. “Couldn’t sleep?”
She shakes her head, no. “Nope. Not even a little. I’m not the greatest sleeper to start with, add in the time change and an overactive mind, and I never had a chance. How are you all sleeping on those couches? You guys are huge. It can’t be comfortable.”
“It’s not too bad. Cooper’s up in his room. It’s just the three of us down here tonight. Murphy fucking snores, though. Probably why Bash and I can’t sleep. We’ve been crashing at each other’s houses all summer, which is kinda funny since we all only live five to ten minutes away.” I open the fridge and pull out a bottle of water. “Want one?”
She nods her head again. “Yes, please. I was about to look for Melatonin when I found Sebastian.” Natalie walks over to the cabinet to the left of the sink. From this angle, I can see her stretch onto her toes. Her calf muscles are tightening, her tiny little tank is lifting, showing off those sexy dimples above her tight little ass. Even with her arms stretched high, she is never going to be able to reach the shelf with the vitamins on it.
I walk up behind her to see if she needs any help. My hands itch to touch her skin as the citrusy smell of her hair invades my senses. Leaning down, I whisper, “Can you reach that shelf, Little Sinclair?”
Natalie spins around and lets out a squeak. Her hands go to my chest to steady herself, and the warmth of her body puts me on high alert. It would be so easy to lean down and kiss this girl. I have to remind myself why that’s a bad idea.
Natalie is trying to get her breathing back under control, but I can see that she is as affected as I am. Sighing, her next words come out breathy and unsure. “Come on, QB. It’s Nat or Natalie. None of this Little Sinclair stuff.”
All In (The Kings of Kroydon Hills Book 1) Page 2