Blitzed (The Alpha Ballers #3)

by Lucy Snow

  “I never noticed,” I said, a smile on my face. “I kinda liked it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  We shared a moment of comfortable silence, and I could tell as we looked at each other that we both wanted to rip each other’s clothes off and fuck right then and there, but the boundaries of society stopped us from doing so.

  Stupid society - cause of all our problems.

  “It’s OK, Mack. I understand,” I said, clearing my throat. “You asked a good question, an innocent one, and I guess I was looking for any reason to convince myself you were looking out for the team and not me.”

  Mack leaned over, and I could see the tips of her breasts swelling out from the collar of her shirt. “Hud, please understand me. I was looking out for the team.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “But please understand me further, you are a part of this team. You are one of the men I look out for. I wasn’t looking to jam you up, I just wanted to get to the truth, and I’m sorry I let my awkwardness get in the way of you knowing that.”

  I quickly nodded. “I understand, Mack. We’re all good.” I looked around to make sure no one was listening in, then I dropped my voice. “If the wall behind me wasn’t all windows I’d be kissing you right now.”

  Mack smiled as she straightened up and sat back down. “Hud, if that wall wasn’t all windows you’d be fucking me right now.”

  “Tease.”

  “You love it.”

  “Maybe.”

  Mack picked up some papers. “Despite how fun this is and how wet I’m getting just thinking about you bending me over this desk, we’ve both got things to do. In fact, I hear you’ve got a big football game coming up.”

  She looked at her papers while I just stood there with a smile on my face.

  “Do you mind letting me get some work done?” Mack asked, looking over the top of the papers. “I’ll bet you could find something else to do.”

  I saluted. “Yes, ma’am, right away.” And then I walked out of her office and back to the practice facility.

  Along the way, I caught TV turned to SportsCenter right as the league announced I was cleared to play.

  Today was a good day.

  CHAPTER 21 - MACKENZIE

  Today was a good day. Not only did Hud and I patch things up, which was huge, but we also found out that the league was clearing him of any wrongdoing in this brewing PED scandal. The lab had opened up its records and all their problems had been exposed to the harsh light of day.

  Hud was off the hook and he would play in the championship game. Just seeing the joy and light in his eyes in my office had made the expense worth it, not even taking into account how much we needed him. I loved seeing that sexy face of his light up. I wanted to see it as much as possible.

  Things were looking up.

  I had a full day going, and when it was over, I gratefully drove home and holed up in my apartment. Off went the work outfit, on went the comfy sweatpants, too-big T-shirt, and my hair went up into a simple ponytail. And the wine came out. None of that fancy stuff, I just wanted to relax.

  I was just settling back down on the couch and flipping through trashy TV channels while pouring my first glass when my phone buzzed on the table.

  I picked it up and saw Hud had messaged me. “I’m coming over,” was all it said.

  Instantly I jumped up from the couch, almost knocking my wine over, and just barely saving myself from having to clean up a nasty stain. I ran to my bedroom, embarrassed that Hud should see me dressed like this, but knowing at the same time that was foolish.

  I wasn’t in the mood to argue with myself and a minute later emerged wearing a relaxed skirt and top. Not too dressy for lounging around the house, but better for having company than faded sweats that said PATRIOTS on the ass. I laughed to myself as I sat back down and took a sip of the wine, still surprised at the image I wanted to project for Hud for some reason.

  I watched TV for a few minutes, trying to calm my nerves, suddenly nervous that he was coming. My phone buzzed again, and I thought it was him again, but when I picked it up, it was an email.

  Hud wouldn’t send an email, so I was about to put the phone down and leave it till the morning when the subject line caught my eye. It said, “Asher and Mayfield.”

  My heart sank as I opened it up. It wasn’t from any address I recognized. All it was was a bunch of images.

  Images of Hud and I. Kissing. Touching. Taken from far away, clearly a high powered camera, probably something a professional would own.

  I kept scrolling down, getting more numb as each image came up. While we had all our clothing on, clearly someone had been following us and taking pictures.

  At the bottom was a one line of text: “You don’t want this getting out, do you?”

  Nothing else, no demand, nothing. This was just a warning.

  I threw my phone back down on the table, and cried. I didn’t know what to do. What kind of mess had I gotten myself into?

  What could I do next? Those pictures would get out there and my career would be ruined. I would lose my job, everything I worked so hard for, all because I let a silly crush on a player get out of hand.

  Just then, the door knocked, and I looked up at it, bewildered.

  Shit. Hud was here. In just the space of a couple minutes all the giddiness coursing through me while I waited for him was gone, turned to ash and replaced by dread.

  I couldn’t see him, I had to end this, I had to save what I could. Thoughts of my father and how disappointed he’d be in me when he found it flashed into my head as I stood up, while Hud kept knocking on the door.

  I got to the door and opened it, sticking my head out.

  Hud stood there, smiling, carrying a bag. “I brought food!” he said, holding up the bag. I could smell burgers in there, and they smelled delicious. “We gotta celebrate.”

  “Oh, hey, Hud,” I said, my voice sounding timid and sad. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Hud stood up, surprised. “Is everything OK?”

  “No, it’s not, but it’s nothing you can do.”

  “What? Tell me, Mack, what’s going on?”

  “I-I can’t,” I started, haltingly. “I got to thinking, and I think what we’re doing is a mistake.” I had to work hard to get the next part out, and I couldn’t meet Hud’s steely gaze. “I don’t think you should come inside.”

  “Is someone else in there?”

  “N-No!” How could he think that? Who did he think I was? I couldn’t tell him the truth, not yet. Maybe some other time when this had all blown over, or I could at least figure out what whoever had taken those pictures of us wanted. “I just don’t think this is a good idea anymore.”

  Hud dropped his arm holding the bag of food to his side, and stood there like a statue, his face unreadable. I looked down, not knowing what to say.

  Finally, Hud broke the silence. “OK, Mack, I don’t understand, but if you want me to leave, I’ll go.”

  “Thank you, I think that’s for the best.”

  “That makes one of us.” Hud turned around and walked toward the elevators without looking back at me. It broke my heart to watch him go like that, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  I closed the door and leaned against it, sliding to the floor and crying my eyes out.

  This was supposed to have been a great night in together, celebrating a huge win and Hud’s PED clearance. And now none of that was nearly as important as the fact that Hud was on the other side of that door and getting farther away by the moment and I was stuck here, unable to go after him.

  I missed him already - I thought back to just a few minutes ago when I had gotten his message that he was coming over and how happy that had made me, how great it felt for the two of us to be back on the right track.

  And now we’d been derailed again. For good, this time.

  And I couldn’t fix it even though I wanted to.

  My career was on the li
ne though - I had fought this hard to get into sports, and had fought uphill battles left and right because I was the owner’s kid and because I was a woman, and now all of that might disappear because someone had taken pictures of Hudson and I.

  I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t remember ever going to bed that night. I certainly didn’t get any sleep.

  CHAPTER 22 - HUDSON

  I had no idea what the fuck had just happened, but instead of enjoying a quiet night of celebration with Mack at her place I was barreling down the road on my bike heading home, food getting cold in my saddlebags.

  What the fuck. Now she decided things weren’t going to work out between us? Wasn’t it a little late for that?

  Maybe this was all a game to her in the first place? Maybe she was just looking to sleep with a pro football player after all, and she made the mistake of looking to a player on her own team for it, and I just happened to be the lucky guy? And now she got cold feet? Stranger things have happened before.

  As I got home and parked, reheating some of the food in my kitchen so I could get something good out of this evening, I tried not to think about it. I had hoped for a relaxing night in, but now all I had were questions.

  Questions that weren’t nearly as important as the game I had coming up in just under two weeks. If Mack wanted to figure herself out, she picked the right time to do it, because now I could concentrate on football instead of whatever was going on with her.

  After I ate I undressed and went quickly to bed. I stared up at the ceiling for a long time before I fell asleep, and the one thought that rolled around my head was that I had not expected to be seeing this ceiling again tonight.

  When the sun came up I got out of bed and made breakfast, getting ready quickly and going to the facility. I wanted to get Mack out of my head as much as possible, and for me, that meant football, in large quantities.

  The next few days passed by really quickly. I didn’t get a chance to see Mack around the facility; we were both really busy with our own preparations for the championship game. Frankly, that was fine with me, after what had happened outside her door, I wasn’t in a hurry to see her again so fast.

  The time away did us well - it certainly worked out great for me, because I was able to shut everything else out of my mind and prepare to play the Seattle Seahawks for all the glory in the football world.

  As the next weekend ended, it was time for us to fly out to the site of the big game - Santa Clara, California. It had been a while since I’d been this far west - all of our games this year had been in Denver or east of it. Getting off the plane and walking down the steps, I wondered how well I’d be able to play in this kind of warm weather. I preferred the tundras of New England already.

  We spent the week alternating between practice and media availabilities. It was one after the other, and it very quickly became a blur. The only way I knew what was going on was whether I was wearing pads or not.

  Of course all the questions coming my way were about PEDs and the scandal that had blown wide open after the Patriots’ investigator had uncovered some pretty shady shit going on at the lab the league used. The commissioner had taken some pretty heavy flak for it, and there was a lot of talk that he would be fired by the owners soon after this season was over.

  The guy was incredibly incompetent at everything surrounding player conduct, but he was good at making the owners a crazy amount of money. There were a lot of people in the know, though, who made it clear that football was so popular that no matter who was in charge of the ship it would stay afloat for a little while longer. Which made everyone ask the question: couldn’t we get someone better?

  I tried to downplay all the questions as they came my way, but it wasn’t easy. When people asked whether the commissioner had a vendetta against the Patriots, I said as little as possible and kept it moving toward football-related questions. That’s really all I wanted to talk about anyway, about the Seahawks great rushing attack and their quarterback who was as elusive as they came.

  But, of course, all the media wanted to talk about was whether I took a banned substance, or whether Coach Armstrong was gonna let me play the full game now that I was out from under the scandal. I answered all the questions truthfully and the best I could, but needless to say, my week of press conferences weren’t all that fun.

  We still had a few days before the game, and the Patriots held a team event in downtown Palo Alto - we rented out a nice restaurant and all of us ate and partied there, a little send off before we buckled down once again for the home stretch before the game on Sunday.

  I hung out with Drake and Lance - neither of them had their girlfriends with them, which was rare. We had a couple drinks and shot the shit, building each other up for the coming few days of practice and the game itself. All three of us were a bit overwhelmed by the spectacle of it all - each of us had been watching the championship game on TV for our entire lives, but to actually be playing in it this year - it was a trip and a half.

  It quickly became almost like a middle school dance, the players on one side amongst themselves and all the rest of the staff on the other side. We joked about it, but it was true - the players weren’t interacting with anyone else, like we had a secret that we all didn’t want to tell anyone.

  Finally things thinned out as people went back to their hotels to get a good start on the next day. I found myself at the bar getting one last drink when I turned around and Mack was standing next to me, looking away, wearing a dark purple dress that clung to every curve.

  She was so ravishing, even from behind, I couldn’t stand it. I cleared my throat and Mack turned around.

  “Hey, Mack,” I said, figuring that was the best way to go.

  “Hi, Hudson,” Mack said, clearly wary. “Those press conferences have been pretty rough on you this week, yeah?”

  “Yeah. Nothing I couldn’t handle, though. I kinda wish they’d ask me about football rather than, well, you know.”

  “You’re the flavor of the week, the biggest story going into the game. These two teams have been at the top of the power rankings since the beginning of the season. Yeah, we took some time out when Parker got hurt earlier this year, but no one is too surprised that the Patriots and the Seahawks are meeting in the big game. But you, you’re something new.”

  “Yeah.” I smiled a little at that.

  “You’re a scandal, you’re an unknown quantity.” Mack’s eyes flashed and she raised her hands, moving them like there was smoke all around me. “You’re a loose cannon, the guy who might have done some nasty shit to get where you are, and now you’ve been cleared to play because the incompetent commissioner used a dodgy lab to do his testing?!” Mack laughed. “Those are the only kinds of questions you’ll get for a while.”

  “Factually correct, Mack, but just so you know, I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Mack put her hand against my chest and pressed it against me. “Factually correct is the best kind of correct, Hudson Asher,” she said, a smile on her face.

  “You make a good point.”

  “I always do.”

  I looked around and saw that no one was around us, so I took the opportunity to try and clear things up. “Mack,” I started, making sure my voice was low enough to let her know I meant business, “I wanted to apologize for whatever I did that caused what happened outside your apartment the other night. I don’t quite know what it was, but if I did something, I want to say I’m sorry for it.”