Pass Interference (Connecticut Kings Book 6)

by Christina C Jones

  She leaned in, propping her elbows on the table. “Wait, don’t tell me yet. Let me guess what the but is… hmmm… with you… I think there’s probably someone else. Someone who is just waiting for you to choose them – and only them – over all the other beautiful women in the world. But you’re not ready to commit.”

  “You’re halfway there,” I chuckled. “Or maybe just a quarter. Hell, I don’t even know. I told you it was complicated. She’s doesn’t want to commit to me either though.”

  “Oh so that’s perfect then,” Leya gushed. “Assuming she’s fine with you dating other people?”

  I scoffed. “She actively encourages it.”

  “Sounds like my kinda woman. And… my kinda complicated.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “What does that mean?”

  “Sex pact,” she said, so matter-of-factly that it almost sounded like a completely normal thing.

  “Excuse me?”

  She took another long drink, then nodded. “You heard me right, Nate. I’m twenty-nine years old – I have a pact with my best friend that if we’re both single when we’re thirty, we will, for one night, fuck each other’s brains out. His ass is fine. I can’t mess around and get too involved with someone and end up missing my chance.”

  “I’m sorry… what?”

  “I mean… I guess there is the fact that I’ve secretly been in love with him since seventh grade. I’m hoping that if I blow his mind in bed, he’ll start seeing me differently. And he’ll fuck me again… and again… and then we’ll get married. But in the meantime… mama has needs. Which is where you come in.”

  I frowned. “Are you… are you serious right now?”

  “Hell no,” Leya laughed, finally breaking from her serious expression to shake her head. “I really had you going there for a minute, didn’t I?”

  “Uh, yeah, I’d say so,” I chuckled. “What the hell was that?”

  “Not gonna lie – I’m a little tipsy right now, and I just felt like being silly, but dude – do you know how many times I’ve told a variation of that story, just to get someone off my back? Why don’t you settle down, Leya, get a husband! Don’t you know you have limited time to have kids? Why don’t you find something serious? I feel so bad, you have everything except a family? Don’t you know life isn’t complete without that?” She waved a hand as if she was dismissing all of that, and finished her drink. “Don’t you know you can suck my dick, how about that?!” Her eyes got big, and locked with mine. “Oh my God – I do not have an actual dick, and I’ll even let you check. The dick I want to offer people who say such things to me is only metaphorical.”

  I laughed at that, clapping a hand to my chest as I sat back, shaking my head. “No worries – I have a twin sister with a similar mouth, and she works in the sports industry too. Trust me, I’ve heard her offer that nonexistent dick plenty of times.”

  “Okay so please tell her thank you on my behalf, for making me seem a little less… how did you so politely phrase it… mentally unstable. That was it.”

  “I will make sure to pass it along. But… yeah, people can get very… aggressive about the whole marriage and kids thing. It’s right for some people, and I have much respect for it, but… I’m just not built for it, I don’t think.”

  “Well I can drink to that,” she concurred, raising a glass that was… empty. “Oh, shit – I would drink to that, if there was anything here.”

  “Would you like another?” I asked, but she’d already started shaking her head before the question was fully off my lips.

  “No, two is my firm limit when I’m out alone with strange men.”

  I drew my head back. “Damn, I’m strange now?”

  “Let me rephrase,” she grinned. “My rule is that I do not partake in more than two alcoholic beverages when I am on dates with men who I am not intimately acquainted with yet, and that does not mean sex.”

  “So you’re saying that there are men who you date romantically, but there’s no sex… or there’s just no sex yet?”

  “Actually… the first. We simply enjoy each other’s company – not as friends, because there is a definite attraction, and romantic interest, but… no sex. Is that what you’d like to pursue with me?”

  “Hell no,” I answered immediately, laughing at that shit. I wasn’t at all opposed to female friends, by any means, but sexless dating was a fat ass no for me.

  Leya ran her tongue over her lips as they spread into a sly smirk. “Yet another thing I’d drink to.”

  “Shouldn’t have finished so fast.”

  “Funny, I’ve said those exact words before putting a man out of my bed. You’ve never heard those words before, have you? Because if so… we could probably save ourselves a little time.”

  I laughed. “No. Not at all. Never heard that complaint.”

  “Not even from your… complication?”

  “Never. Sex was never an issue.”

  “Then why not commit?”

  “Because it’s not what I see for my life,” I told her. “I thought we already established this part of the conversation?”

  “We have, it’s just… I actually believe you, when you say it,” she mused, in disbelief. “Most men… they claim they’re on the same page, claim they’re okay with dating. But what they really mean is that they want to date me, and four other women – conservatively – but want me – and the other women – to only date them.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, sounds familiar. I used to be that guy, until I realized… the “ideal” that I imagine has to be approached from equal footing. Either I’m free to entertain people, and so are you. Or we’re both only entertaining each other. And with the way I work, my social life, all that… hell, I may only want to see someone once every two weeks. But that doesn’t work for everyone.”

  “Exactly. I have to sit here lonely for three weeks while you’re away on business or whatever the hell? Why?”

  I sat back, staring at her. “Goddamn, we really are on the same page.”

  “It’s fate,” she laughed. “If Landon and Ty had never started their doomed to fail affair, you and I may have never crossed paths.”

  “But here we are.”

  She grinned. “Yes. Here we are. Or… we could be upstairs. In a room. Getting better acquainted?” she said, eyebrow raised.

  Of course I knew what she was saying, easily picked up on the innuendo, but…

  Shit.

  Barging in out of nowhere, thoughts of Sloane appeared.

  Had she made it home safe?

  Was she feeling okay after attending the party?

  Did she eat?

  Did she take her meds?

  And that’s why, when it came to Leya, I’d had to be transparent about the fact that shit was complicated – even when it seemed like she was perfectly on board with the same type of informal, unorthodox arrangement I wanted.

  The same type Sloane insisted wasn’t going to be enough.

  “Actually,” I spoke up, reaching for her hand. “I prefer to be better acquainted before we get that well acquainted. Just a personal preference.”

  A genuine smile reached all the way up to her eyes. “A preference I absolutely respect… and honestly admire.” She scooted closer to me in the booth. “It honestly makes me like you more. I love it when a man isn’t all easy, putting out on the first night like a whore,” she teased, and I chuckled.

  “That’s right. Gotta work for this dick.”

  She bit down on her lip as she looked at me. “You are just… I’m going to enjoy this.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Where were you this morning? I had to do my old lady shuffle all by myself. I should get a puppy, like the doctor suggested. – SB”

  “Wait now, what is this? Are you admitting to enjoying my company in the mornings? Oh my God. Wow.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ve grown accustomed. Not the same thing as “enjoying”. – SB”

  “Whatever you hav
e to tell yourself. To answer your question – had a late night, which practically forced a late morning.”

  “A late night… with Leya? – SB”

  For some reason, that text made me frown as I jogged up the steps to my childhood home, after spending an unreasonable fare to get all the way out here. Not because of Sloane’s insistence on pushing her Leya agenda, but because of what that text was missing.

  I waited a second before I approached the door, looking at my phone expecting a follow-up. I knew Sloane, knew how that big brain of hers worked, knew her humor and unfiltered mouth. Oh, you must have been laid up in Leya’s pussy all night, huh? Or Why are you texting me when there’s new booty beside you?

  Those were the kind of responses I would expect, after the perfect lead-in I’d given her to tease me about it.

  I shook my head.

  She’s probably just tired.

  “Yes, we had drinks. Just drinks.”

  I didn’t know why I felt the need to clarify that.

  Well… I did know, but still.

  Sloane had made her position clear, and I wasn’t typically in the business of trying to change a woman’s mind about shit. My concern for her – caring for her health, protecting her privacy, all of that… none of it was about getting an “in” with her, it was about a genuine desire to help a friend.

  I wanted her though.

  Wanted her badly.

  And if seeing that I was more than just some spoiled playboy was going to be the thing that turned the situation in my favor, well… my father didn’t raise a damn fool.

  “Ah. Drinks. I only barely remember the taste of wine… - SB”

  I chuckled at that, hearing it in her voice. Before I could respond though, the front door swung open and my father stepped out, with his bag of golf clubs on his shoulder.

  “Just the man I need to talk to,” he said, greeting me with a hug. “Walk with me, son.” He motioned to his Bentley, already pulled into the driveway. “You coming to join me on the course today?”

  I shook my head, following him down to the car. “No sir, not today. Just came to retrieve my car actually.”

  “That’s right,” he nodded. “You snuck out of here last night with Landon, and two beautiful young women.” Of course he knew. “So tell me about her. Or was this just some one-night thing?”

  I chuckled. “Definitely not that, but… also nothing to tell you about. It’s not serious.”

  “Perhaps it could be though,” he suggested. “You do know that one woman’s company is good for more than a week at a time?”

  Ah, fuck.

  “Here we go with this again, huh?” I asked. “Yes, of course, women are valuable beyond what’s between their legs. I’m aware.”

  My father chuckled, raising his hands. “Testy about the topic, are we?”

  I blew out a sigh. “Sorry. But yes. Everybody is in my ear about settling down, wife, children, blah, blah, blah. I’m not interested. Maybe that will change, maybe it won’t, but for now… can we talk about anything else?”

  My father met my gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Sure – let’s talk football. Sloane Brooks – I’ve heard a bit of feedback that she’s been reserved as of late. She works with your players. Have you seen anything, heard anything?”

  I think low energy is standard operating procedure after a goddamn heart attack.

  “It’s probably just because she’s not out on the field – that’s where she seems to thrive most. I mean… there’s not a lot for her to do right now, is there? These couple of weeks, they’re mostly working with the trainers, so maybe she’s just bored?”

  Of course I was omitting the whole three days in the hospital thing, but it wasn’t my business to tell – especially when I found out Sloane had opted against the team health insurance when she signed her job contract, choosing to continue paying for it herself, like she had since the early, unstable days of her semi-pro career. The Kings weren’t paying for it, so it wasn’t the Kings business, as long as she was performing the job she was hired for – her words.

  And… I couldn’t disagree.

  My father nodded. “Yes, possibly. We’ll see how things look for minicamp in a few weeks. You sure that new rookie hasn’t already worn her out?”

  “Amare?” I asked, then shook my head when he confirmed. “Nah. I haven’t gotten complaints from or about either of them, not since the first incident. They’re settling in, both of them.”

  At that, my father snorted. “A little too well, on Mr. Amare’s part. Speaking of who left the party with who, our rookie left with the wrong one.”

  My eyebrow lifted. “Who?”

  “Parker.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, tipping my head. I had not expected that, but still… “What’s the problem though? Parker and Rutledge are both adults, so…?”

  His eyes narrowed. “The last thing she needs is… corrupting.”

  “You mean further corrupting?” I corrected. “She’s a healthy, beautiful young woman, saddled to a dying man two decades older than her.”

  “I’m well aware.” His nostrils flared. He never liked being reminded of the fucked-up situation his friend had placed Parker in. “Which is why I’m trying to make sure she’s not going from one valley into another with this immature kid. You need to talk to him.”

  I shook my head. “All due respect, I’m not saying anything to him about who he takes home, as long as he’s not out here making babies like it’s a trend. They’re adults – unless you tell me you’re concerned he’s smacking her around or something, it is not my business. I was hired for a job – ensuring player success. Managing another man’s dick really isn’t part of it.”

  My father let out a deep sigh. The mutual respect between us ran thick, but it wasn’t going to influence me into unwarranted intervention in my player’s personal life – especially not on behalf of fucking Jimmy Wright.

  “You know… you’re right, son. This is a personal matter, and I shouldn’t ask you to get involved.” He extended a hand to me, and I took it, easily, because there was no beef – would never be any beef – between me and my father, not over something that wasn’t a family matter. Still gripping my hand, he pulled me in. “I still want you to settle down and start working on my grandchildren though.”

  “Come on, man!” I laughed, pulling back. “What’s up with you, are you hassling me about grandkids because my mother isn’t around to do it?”

  He shrugged. “Somebody has to!”

  We said our goodbyes and moved on, him to his Sunday afternoon golf, me to… nothing. I didn’t have plans. But as I climbed into my car, I remembered the text I hadn’t responded to yet, from Sloane.

  I pulled my phone out, intending to go straight to it, but was sidetracked by a different text.

  From Leya.

  It had been nearly two in the morning before we left the bar at Veil, separately. I’d been serious about my desire to know her better before we jumped right into sex. Maybe I wasn’t ready to “settle down” in the traditional sense, but my days of sleeping with women I barely knew were over.

  I liked Leya though.

  Well enough that her invitation to lunch was decidedly tempting.

  But… as I’d told her, my own definition of my situation with Sloane was… complicated. Maybe she didn’t think I was old enough, or mature enough, to fulfill what she was looking for, and again – I didn’t have any sort of goal to change her mind. The fact was that I enjoyed her, and wanted to be around her, so until that desire faded, any time I had a choice…

  I was going to choose Sloane.

  But I wasn’t a fool.

  Before I declined Leya’s invitation, I shot Sloane a text, offering to bring lunch to her. I was glad to get an almost immediate response that it was fine, since her daughter was expected to be out all day, with her friends.

  After I hit Leya back, I pulled out of the driveway, chuckling to myself at how annoyed I’d been about where Sloane lived at fi
rst. A good twenty minutes out of the city, gated subdivision, and enough space between houses to fit two more houses.

  I understood the value of that privacy now.

  Four years of sneaking around had taught me well enough to appreciate not seeing neighbors when you were coming in and out. And the fact that she was the one with space for us to handle our business without any real fear of detection gave me the opportunity to see her relaxed, and comfortable – she was home.

  Hell… I was comfortable there now too.

  Maybe a little too comfortable.

  I pushed all that aside though, focusing on the here and now. Even though I hated the circumstances, this was the most consistently I’d ever been able to spend time with Sloane, especially without sex even being involved.

  I’d be damn if I’d waste these moments waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Eight

  “Yes Johnson! Looking good!” I raised my hands high, clapping for my star wide receiver as he easily switched direction at the last minute to catch a pass. “Beautiful footwork!”

  I wasn’t just gassing him up – there was a reason Jordan Johnson was the face of the franchise, and it certainly wasn’t his good looks.

  He could catch the hell out of a football.

  Any football, apparently, and he was still moving with the same speed that had earned him his “The Flash” nickname. I grinned as he took off down the field – showing off, honestly, since it was the last day of mandatory minicamp. Everybody was relaxed, settling into the flow of being a team again coming from offseason.

  I just hoped they wouldn’t lose too much of this feeling before shit got real, in training camp.

  With minicamp, it was mostly about figuring out the bare bones of what these guys could do. They were in jerseys and shorts, helmets. Knee and elbow pads if necessary. Other than that, all the padding and stuff was put away, since the mandatory minicamp held a no live contact restriction. We could run drills, just to get everybody reacquainted with the essentials, but the last thing we needed was a player getting hurt before we even made it to July.