Gossip Game (Baltimore Blaze Football Romance Book 5) by Tracy Solheim

Author:Tracy Solheim [Solheim, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sun Home Productions
Published: 2024-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

“Does that blowhard ever shut up?” Blaze tight end, Brody Janik, murmured to no one in particular. “I can’t believe that asshole Kincaid has the balls to spew the lie that our loss was on you.”

Sitting beside him at the bar in Devlin’s, Noah assumed his teammate’s question was rhetorical and didn’t bother answering. As if Devlin’s cantankerous opinions weren’t enough, Brody, the senior member of the team’s receiving corps had crashed tonight’s dinner. Noah wasn’t sure if the tight end’s presence added anything to the painful postmortem of Sunday’s game. Still, he appreciated the support.

It had been four days since they’d lost to their division rivals, thanks to multiple dropped passes and the three interceptions Noah had thrown. It was as if he was living last season’s nightmare all over again. Except this year, there was a horde of young girls and women wearing his jersey and screaming his name. Even though it was an away game.

Of course, the Pittsburgh players and fans didn’t appreciate that fact one bit. And they’d let him know with their taunts and boos. The entire game had been a shitshow.

“None of those picks were his fault,” Brody yelled at the television mounted above the bar. “I would have had one of those balls had I not been mauled by the cornerback. But did the zebras call it? Hell, no!”

Devlin slid a bowl of pretzels to the tight end. “Here, eat these. Your erratic blood sugar is making you cranky.”

“If I’m cranky, it’s because this dickhead is badmouthing my QB for no good reason.” Brody chucked a pretzel at the flat screen.

Devlin signaled to the bartender. “Change the channel to the Food Network before Kincaid causes everyone in the place to lose their appetite.”

“You got it, boss.” The bartender hunted for the remote. Not fast enough for the occupants of the bar to miss Bucky Kincaid’s cockamamie theories, however.

“Of course, everyone in the world knows what is throwing Noah Dudson off his game.” Kincaid smirked for the camera. “The guy can’t perform—” Kincaid faked a cough “—without his woman cheering him on.”

“Oh no, he didn’t,” Brody growled.

The bartender pointed the remote at the television.

“Don’t,” Noah snapped. He wanted to hear what the twit said before he had to read about it every time he picked up his phone.

“Ignore him, Hudson,” Devlin said. “The guy is just tossing out click-bait.”

Noah held up his hand. As much as he’d love to, no way was he ignoring this. Devlin sighed wearily as he shook his head.

Kincaid babbled on. “Which begs the question, where in the world is Princess Charlotte? I mean, she paid twenty-five thousand bucks to possess the Blaze quarterback. Every piece of him.” The idiot winked at the screen. “Some would argue she overpaid.” Kincaid raised his hand. “Of course, she probably has shoes that cost more than that. Either way, if these two really are an item, shouldn’t she be in the stadium watching him play? Or has she given up on him just

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