#Heart (Hashtag #6)

by Cambria Hebert

  “Obviously, the possibility of that happening is there,” Anthony said. “We all know how this organization works. It’s all in who picks you up first.”

  And if two teams tried to pick me up at the same time, I would go to the highest bidder.

  In a way, it was kind of like a cattle auction.

  Except it was for men.

  “Gamble wants you. Head Coach Westfall wants you. They’re gonna draft you.” Romeo had so much confidence it was hard not to hope.

  “How much did you have to do with it?” I asked point blank.

  Romeo sat nearby and looked me in the eye. “You know damn well I went to bat for you. I made it no secret I want you on the field with me. But it wasn’t me who convinced them, B. It was your stats from last season. I might have brought you some attention, but your record speaks for itself.”

  Anthony nodded. “It’s true. Your stats are in line with some of the most anticipated players in the draft this year. You definitely belong.”

  “Any other teams interested?” I asked Anthony.

  “I haven’t heard much, but I know you’re being looked at.”

  Romeo stiffened. I glanced at him and his jaw was hard. I knew it was killing him that this wasn’t a done deal. It was clear just by looking at him that he hadn’t even considered I’d be drafted to another team, one in another state away from him and our family.

  “How many teams are ahead of the Knights in the draft order?” Romeo asked his father.

  “A few.” He hedged. “The Knights are somewhere in the midrange for draft picks, which is good. At least they aren’t in the bottom.”

  If they were in the bottom, then the higher the chance I’d be picked up by another team.

  Both Romeo and I fell silent, digesting the news.

  “Gamble’s doing everything he can to get you, Braeden. He’s a determined man. This isn’t something you really have any control over. We’re going to have to wait and see. Until then, you need to be training every day. You need to keep your nose clean, keep your reputation clean. Press is good, but only good press.”

  I nodded, and Romeo glanced at me. I knew he was thinking all the good press we planned on generating had been put on hold because of Ivy’s accident. I hadn’t wanted to go very far while she was recovering. I’d missed all his final games of the season last year. The plan was to be in the stands, to be seen with Romeo and the team out in public.

  That never happened.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if that was going to hurt me.

  “When are we going to know?” I asked, already dreading the wait.

  “Draft picks are at the end of April this year.”

  So I had almost two months to wait.

  Fuck me.

  “And until then?” I asked. Technically, I knew all this, but I just needed to hear him say it. It made it more real.

  “Until then, train your ass off. The player personnel staff is going to be watching you. They’ll be in contact with the head coach of the Wolves, with Alpha University, and with me since I’m your agent. Personnel will likely come and watch you train. They’re going to want to see you play, maybe even how you interact with your teammates.”

  “Technically, they aren’t my teammates anymore,” I said, the realization hitting me hard. Those guys had been my extended family for over three years. I glanced at Romeo. He nodded, and I saw the understanding in his eyes.

  I was getting a little taste of how he’d felt last year.

  “Yes, technically, you’ve ended your college career, but since the Wolves are where you’re coming from, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where the personnel starts.”

  I nodded, trying to wrap my head around it all.

  You knew you were growing up when your first reaction to something as epic as being drafted by the NFL wasn’t to go get wasted and party, but to plan, train, and go home and tell your girl.

  “It’s a lot. I know,” Anthony said. “Since things with Roman happened a little differently, this is sort of my first go with some of this as well. But I want you to know, son, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you go to a good team, the right team. And I’m going to make damn sure they pay you well. You might be a rookie, but you’re a damn good one.”

  “And you don’t have any broken bones,” Romeo cracked.

  “Guess that means I’ll get more money,” I taunted.

  Romeo laughed. “A rookie three-year contract? Yeah, you’ll make more than my one season let’s see if you can play paycheck.” Then he smirked and his eyes turned cocky. “But my new four-year contract with the Knights? No way in hell you’ll get what I am.”

  I looked at Anthony and lifted a brow. He chuckled. “I negotiate very well.”

  I knew Romeo had a newly signed four-year contract, but I never asked him how much he was making. Sure, I could probably look it up online, but I didn’t care. We’d never been about money and we never would be.

  But I had to admit now I was curious just how much he was getting paid.

  “I’m going to keep on this. Just because you’re draft eligible now doesn’t mean I sit back and wait,” Anthony said, drawing my thoughts away. “I’m going to work just as hard for you as I do for Roman.”

  I swallowed. “I really appreciate that. Thank you for doing this for me.”

  “You know we think of you like a son. We only want the best for you.”

  Usually, I would make a funny comment or a joke at a time like this. Something to take the edge off the feelings flooding my chest. But my sarcastic side failed me in that moment. I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything that might take away from the genuineness in his words.

  Anthony Anderson had been more a father to me my entire life than my actual father had been, so to hear him say those things…

  Well…

  Yeah.

  Thankfully, Romeo was there and he knew what needed to be said.

  “Geez, Dad, you don’t have to kiss his ass. You already have season tickets.”

  Anthony threw back his head and laughed. The hand gripping my heart let go, and I let out a shaky laugh.

  “Don’t be getting a big head over there.” Rome continued and got up to knock me on the shoulder. “I still make more money than you.”

  I gave him the finger.

  “So is that it for the meeting?” he asked.

  Anthony nodded. “I’ll be in touch very soon, Braeden, let you know what’s coming next.” He stood and handed me a sheet of paper, the front page of my early draft application (a copy), and stapled to the front was an approval letter from the NFL.

  “Thought you might want to keep this. Show your mother.”

  I wanted to show Ivy.

  On impulse, I hugged Romeo’s father. It was a quick, tight hug, and even though it was spur of the moment, he hugged me back like he wasn’t surprised.

  Before I pulled away, he whispered, “Proud of you,” in my ear.

  “C’mon,” Romeo said impatiently from the door. “If we don’t get out of here now, Mom’s gonna come in here and make pick out napkin colors or some shit.” He looked horrified.

  Anthony and I laughed.

  “We’ll see you both next week at the party,” Anthony said and shooed us away.

  I tossed the sweatshirts over my shoulder and wandered to the door. Romeo pressed a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet before he opened it.

  I thought about making a bunch of noise on purpose just to draw his mother’s attention. But then I realized she’d probably make me help pick shit out, too.

  Oh, hells no.

  That shit was for girls.

  We crept through the house in a way we hadn’t since we were sixteen and late for curfew. ‘Course, back then we always got caught. His mom had like super-human hearing, caught us every time. She’d sit us down in the kitchen and give us a stern lecture. Then we’d charm our way out of the punishment by promising to never do it again.

  Man, those
were the days.

  Outside, Romeo let out a huge sigh of relief and then charged me.

  Before I knew what the hell he was doing, he grabbed me around the hips and lifted me up in a victory hold like I’d scored a winning touchdown. He gave a happy shout and then set me back down and punched me in the shoulder. “Fuck yeah!”

  His excitement was contagious, and I grinned like a fool.

  “We’re going to the Superbowl this year. You and me.”

  “Rome…” I started. He heard the hesitation in my voice.

  “Don’t start that shit with me, man. It’s gonna happen. Gamble will come through.”

  I hoped so, but I didn’t have as much faith in the guy as Romeo did. I didn’t bother to say that out loud, though.

  “I’m gonna train with you. I know what Westfall and the coaches like to see. I know the ins and outs of the team. It’s an advantage you have, and we’re going to use it.”

  I nodded, looking at the hoodies and acceptance letter filling my hands.

  “It’s a good day, B. It’s okay to be happy.”

  “You been listening to motivational CDs in your car?” I cracked.

  Romeo guffawed. “Yeah, I got ‘em out of your glove box.”

  “The fuck you did.”

  “C’mon, let’s go have a beer and celebrate. It’s on me.” He glanced over his shoulder at the house like he expected his mom to come rushing out after us.

  “Well, if you’re paying…” I said. “And you can tell me about this party next week.”

  “Don’t sound so thrilled about my torture. As best man, you have to be there, too. Hell, she’s probably going to corner you and try and give you instructions on your speech.”

  “Best man,” I echoed.

  “Like you didn’t know.” Romeo scoffed.

  “Well, I mean when you didn’t ask…” I pretended to wipe my tears with the sleeve of the hoodie.

  “There you go acting like a woman. When I stop to get beer, I’ll get you some douche so you can clean out your lady parts.”

  “Dude, that’s nasty.”

  “There’s no one else I’d rather have standing up there with me,” he said, turning serious.

  “There’s no one else I’d let marry my sister.”

  Romeo rolled his eyes.

  “Of course I’ll be there, man. I’ll even write a speech.” Truth was I was looking forward to their wedding, and yeah, I’d known I’d be the one standing up there beside them.

  Just like when I get married, it would be him beside me.

  The mood I was in when I showed up here seemed so far away. It seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of life.

  Yeah, nothing was perfect, but damn if we didn’t have a lot.

  I was on my way to the NFL. Our family was happy and intact.

  No threats hung over our heads.

  Romeo and Rimmel were getting married.

  For right now, everything was great.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ivy

  Our eyes met, and my stomach clenched.

  Ew.

  I totally did not have the stomach for someone as awful as Missy today.

  I turned back around abruptly without saying a word. I had nothing to say to her. I truly wanted to wash my hands of that girl and pretend our “friendship” had been nothing but a bad dream.

  Rimmel’s eyes remained trained on Missy like she wasn’t going to let her out of her sight until she was gone. And that fierce, almost snarling look on her face stayed in place.

  I had a moment to realize the look I’d only ever seen her bring out on behalf of Braeden and Romeo was now a look she used for me as well. She was warning Missy off, trying to keep her away from me, because Rimmel understood how much her betrayal had hurt.

  Sure, Missy hadn’t done the things Zach did, but that didn’t make her any better than him. In some ways, Missy was worse than him. At least Zach never really masqueraded as my friend. He didn’t hang out with me under the guise that he liked me so he could syphon information from me and my friends to blast it all over the school gossip line.

  With Zach, a girl knew what she was getting.

  A girl like Missy?

  Well, she was sort of like a piñata.

  After so many hits, she cracked open and the real contents of her nasty soul spilled out.

  My stomach churned and I pressed a hand to it.

  Rimmel turned away from her and toward me. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, taking a breath. “I think the combination of being tired and stressed and…” I motioned over my shoulder with my head. “Has been quite enough for me today.”

  “You going home before work?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  She pulled out her cell and her fingers flew over the screen. “Romeo was going to come get me, but I’ll just ride with you. Come on. Let’s go.”

  I stood and reached for the juice. I had no desire to drink the latte I had yet to sip.

  I tossed it in a nearby trashcan and pulled on my coat. Rimmel already had her coat on and was carrying the scarf she couldn’t wear in her hand. It made me laugh beneath my breath.

  I made it to the door before Rim, so I held it open and let her go ahead of me. Outside, my attention went directly to the fat, white flakes of snow that fell haphazardly from the sky. The wind was bitter and it made me long for a pair of my Uggs.

  “Can’t you take a hint?” Rimmel’s voice brought me up short.

  As the door swung closed behind us, Missy stepped into the walkway blocking our path. She glanced at me warily before turning her full gray gaze on Rimmel.

  “I hear congratulations are in order on your engagement,” she said.

  “I’m pretty sure you already gave them. You know, when you posted about it for the entire school,” Rim said without missing a beat.

  Missy glanced around, making sure no one heard and would realize who she really was.

  “So you’re having an engagement party next week?” she asked.

  Okay, clearly she was digging around for information. Would this girl ever stop?

  “Yep. And you’re not invited,” Rimmel said. “If you’ll excuse us, I hate the cold.”

  Rimmel and I started forward at once, and Missy had no choice but to back away.

  When we were past, Missy called out my name. I stopped and looked over my shoulder. Our eyes met, and I made sure she saw exactly how much this little conversation meant to me.

  Which was nothing.

  Her eyes widened just a fraction, and I thought she might turn away.

  She didn’t.

  In just a few quick steps, she was in front of us again. The white snow coated her dark hair like a hat, and it made me mad to realize I thought she looked pretty standing out here in it.

  “Look, I’ve wanted to come by. I tried to come to the hospital.”

  “You aren’t welcome at our home,” I said, matter-of-fact.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I know… and Braeden…” Her voice faltered. Just hearing her say his name made me dizzy with anger.

  Braeden was mine.

  The end.

  Clearly, my inner cavewoman was making sure she was heard because the thoughts I was having were downright possessive.

  B would be proud.

  “I just wanted to apologize to you. Like, for real. I’m so sorry for the part I played in what happened.”

  Something inside me snapped (it was probably that bitchy cavewoman I had living in there). I guess all that nothing I felt for her had its limits.

  “Which part was that?” I growled. “The part you played in me being raped? Or the part when you covered it up, then used it to slut shame me in front of the entire school?”

  Missy’s face paled.

  I held up my hand. “Oh, maybe it was when you went to a psych ward and got a caged, sick animal all riled up so he could come after me and try to kill me.”

  I felt my hands shake as I stared at her. How I ever
thought she was my friend was such a mystery to me.

  “So tell me, Missy. Which one of those things are you most sorry for?”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and I laughed. “Your tears, your very existence stopped affecting me the day I stared down the nose of a gun and listened to a psycho lay out plans for how he was going to murder me and then go back for the man I love.”

  She gasped like I’d shocked her.

  I gasped back, mocking her. “Oh.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “Could it be? Something little miss-know-it-all doesn’t know?”

  I glanced at Rimmel, and she shrugged dramatically.

  “That’s right. Your little pit bull was going to kill Braeden. You know, the guy you claimed to love?”

  “Ivy,” Missy said, her voice hollow and raw.

  “Save it, okay?” There isn’t anything on this earth that would ever make me listen to what she had to say. I was done.

  Beyond done.

  I’d thought I’d washed my hands of her before. The nothing I felt when I thought of her had been finite.

  But I guess deep down, I’d needed to rage at her, if only a little.

  I had, and now I just felt drained.

  “Let’s go,” I said to Rimmel. We turned and walked away together, leaving Missy standing there alone.

  I never looked back to see if she followed us. I knew she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t dare.

  “You were a real badass back there,” I said to Rimmel, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Me?” she said innocently.

  I laughed. “If looks could kill…”

  “If looks could kill, that one would have been gone a long time ago,” Rimmel said bitterly.

  I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye as we walked up the sidewalk toward my car. “I didn’t realize you despised her so much.”

  Rimmel stopped and stared at me slack jawed. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

  “Of course I knew you were mad and hurt by her. But I guess I never realized she would bring out the lioness in you.”

  Rimmel started walking again and hooked her arm through mine. “She hurt all of us. You most of all. I guess Romeo and B have rubbed off on me a bit, because in my book, someone who hurts my family—my sister—like Missy has, I have no mercy for her.”