Shameless Game: A Why Choose Pro Football Romance (Shameless Sport) by Kelly Finley

Author:Kelly Finley [Finley, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kelly Finley Publishing
Published: 2024-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“I’m ready for the butt ball.”

BEAU

Coach took it easy on us at first.

Camp started with slant routes. Colt and I can run those diagonal drills blindfolded. The same goes with Goodwin, Martinez, and Smith. The whole offensive line was in the zone.

Then we ran post and corner routes, and my completions looked good.

But today, Coach wants to run go routes. Is he testing me and my shoulder? Definitely. But I want to know, too—do I still have a golden arm?

Colt goes deep, working on his speed while I drop back, waiting, knowing he usually takes five seconds before I go for yards, thirty yards each time.

For a while, all’s good.

Our coaches are pleased. “Hawke!” They shout because that’s what he is. Colt flies down the field, able to glance, attaching his eyes to the ball like a hawk, tracking his prey until it’s in his grasp like talons.

We’re in the zone. We’re perfect. We’re in love. We’re happy, but I’m sore by the end of the day. My shoulder is tight.

Diggs, our athletic trainer, has me wearing ice packs like a frozen T-shirt during our afternoon offensive team meeting.

Colt sits next to me. We’re freshly showered. But I catch him eyeing my shoulder while our offensive coordinator reviews our drills.

“Good job.” Coach Purnell watches the screen on our playbacks. “Ball security is job security,” he praises Colt and Smith, who crushed it today.

But Colt nudges my foot, jutting his chin like, “You okay?”

I grin, shaking it off. I won’t admit to him or myself that I’m not, that I’ll suck it up all season. As long as I can pass, I’ll take the pain. I’m not going on Injury Reserve. Ever.

When we’re dismissed for the day, we head to the parking lot, tossing our bags in my Ford Super Duty cab. But then Jasper and Perry, two of our defensive linemen, spot us leaving together.

“What’s up, Bronson?” Perry calls out. “You Hawke’s chauffeur?”

“Yeah,” Colt answers, jerking his passenger door open. “And he’s my butler, too.”

Jasper looks confused, and so does Perry.

Colt and I have made it over a week at camp without questions, but it’s time to test the waters.

Let’s see if we can sell this.

I shout, “I’m letting the asshole bunk with me while he plays HGTV designer on his fancy-ass Buckhead house.”

“Man?” Jasper sizes up Colt. “You ain’t got enough green to rent?”

“Why should I?” But Hawke’s a pro smartass, too. “When I can crash at Bronson’s rent-free? He’s got a chef, a maid, and a view of my favorite eighteenth hole. I ain’t ever leaving. I’ll just keep flipping houses for millions.”

“The fuck you say.” I play along. “You got five months before I toss your shit to the curb.”

“Who was your Buckhead agent?” Jasper starts chewing the fat with Colt about Atlanta’s highest-end real-estate investments, while I hope Colt never finishes his remodel.

These past two weeks with him and Blair in my home have me smiling all the damn time.

I don’t know why I was so afraid.

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