Blitzed (The Alpha Ballers #3) (11 page)

By the time I was done making my rounds with the other players he was back and getting dressed in his street clothes. I tried not to stare as he wrapped a tight shirt around those corded muscles of his, and I tried not to remember how it had felt clinging to those muscles as he took me home on his motorcycle a few nights earlier.

I tried not to remember it, and I failed, hard. It was too difficult, especially when he stood there, facing away, getting dressed, covering that sexy body of his with the trappings of modern society.

“Good game,” I said, when I couldn’t stand it anymore. I was getting hot just watching him, and I had to say something.
 

Hud grunted and turned around, raising an eyebrow at me. “Yeah, it was, the whole team played their guts out today. It was a good win,” he added with typical Patriots modesty. I swear we put something in the water around here to make people downplay their accomplishments.

“Yeah, great team effort.” I took a step closer. “I meant you, though. Great game, Hud.” That last part was almost a whisper, but by how I saw him perk up, I knew he had heard me.

He turned all the way around. “It was just the first game, though, Mackenzie.” The way he said my name sounded formal and almost rehearsed, but then I remembered we weren’t alone, and this wasn’t a place we could be familiar. No one else knew that I had woken up in his bed a few mornings earlier, even if we hadn’t done anything together.

“I know, but it’s a good start.” The room got emptier as I looked around. “Listen,” I started, “about dinner.”

“Oh right, yeah, dinner.” He sounded tired and a little wary, but I pressed on.

“The first playoff game is over, so…” I trailed off.

Hud hesitated before answering. “Right. Let’s do this. When and where?”

CHAPTER 08 - HUDSON

One night later, after the Patriots had our customary one day off after a victory, Mack and I went out to dinner.
 

For the first time since I could remember, I was even a little bit nervous about having dinner with a woman. I walked around my house the entire day, did a light workout, watched a movie, and relaxed by cooking some food, and the entire time my dinner with Mack loomed in my head.

I really didn’t know why it worried me that much. I figured she just wanted to thank me again for saving her from her date a few nights ago, nothing more. Sure, she seemed to have a little bit of a crush on me, but there was no way that could go anywhere - not with how we more or less worked together.

Maybe the dinner was work related? Mack was pretty much the general manager of the Patriots, and my contract was nearing its end - if my previous contract negotiations had been any indication, it was around the right time when the team started making their first overtures toward getting a new deal done.

Could there be anything more? Nah, I shook my head, couldn’t be. Mackenzie Mayfield was a high society girl - she had college degrees and stuff, and she dated high finance types. Not football players, not meatheads like me. I had nothing I could offer her.

She was incredibly gorgeous, though. I couldn’t help but get turned on whenever she was around, it was almost automatic, and I hated it.

Despite all that, despite how much I wanted to tear her clothes off and ravage her all night, and every night, I had to treat this like a work thing. Nothing could come of it. I would play it cool, treat it like a contract negotiation, and go from there.

I’d be the perfect gentleman - if that were even possible around curves like that.

I cleaned up nice, knowing the restaurant where Mack had made reservations for us - crisp and pressed slacks and a collared shirt. For a guy who made a living wearing tight clothing and pads, it was weird to walk around in clothing that was so loose yet so formal.

Still, as I walked from the car to the front of the restaurant, and checked my watch to see that I was a few minutes early, I did notice some heads turning along the way. That was a nice feeling.

The restaurant itself was definitely more fancy and formal than I was used to - I was much more a burger and friends kinda guy - I liked it when the menus were in English. This was not one of those places.

Mack arrived a few minutes after me, and when she tapped me on the shoulder and I turned around and saw her in the slinky deep green dress she wore, my breath caught in my throat. A little voice in my head laughed at me, wondering why it was so easy for a girl to bother me when I dealt with giant men trying to separate my limbs from my body all day.

The truth was girls didn’t bother me. This girl, however, did, and I couldn’t explain it, and that was just one of the reasons this girl in particular mesmerized me. I didn’t need the distraction, right now least of all, but I couldn’t help it with Mack. She pulled me in like gravity and even if I wanted to resist, which I didn’t think twice about, I wouldn’t have been able to.

All I had to do was make sure that I didn’t get in too deep. I had obligations to my brothers and the fans of the Patriots around the world, and now wasn’t the time to lose focus because of a girl. There would be time enough for that in the offseason - even if the girl wasn’t Mack, even if she was the only one I wanted.

Mack came up to me, managing to walk in crazy high heels, which always mystified me, and gave me a deep and long hug. “Hey, Hud, I’m so glad to see you,” she whispered into my ear. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a while.”

“Me too, Mack,” I whispered back, feeling her heat against me and automatically thinking about taking her somewhere private and doing disastrously dirty things with her. Down, Hud, down. This certainly wasn’t the place, and probably wasn’t the time for that. Play it cool, man, see what’s going on first, before you start getting any ideas.

She held my arm as we went into the restaurant and waited for our table. Mack had made a reservation, so the wait was only a few seconds, before the host guided us to the table, cozily hidden away in the back.

We sat down and perused the menu. Just as I suspected, very little English here. I sighed softly, and started reading it, hoping to find a dish that I recognized, even if I couldn’t pronounce the name.

Mack seemed right at home in the fancy place, and as I peered over my menu and watched how the soft light of the restaurant’s dining room glittered off her subtle jewelry and incandescent skin I marveled at how well she both fit in this world and looked sexy as hell wearing a Patriots hoodie and binoculars, sitting in the stands cheering on her team.

There was more to Mackenzie Mayfield than I had initially thought. Sure, she was definitely a rich girl, but I didn’t get any hint of being spoiled or haughty or condescending about it.

“What’re you going to have?” Mack asked, closing her menu and setting it down. “I think I’m going with the carbonara.” She grinned, devilishly. “Gotta celebrate the win somehow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I smiled, glancing back at the menu. “I think I’m going with the…hold on for a second. I’m not used to menus like this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, most of the places I go have numbers on them. And sometimes pictures.”

Mack looked at me like she’d never heard of such a thing. “That would make things easier,” she whispered, completely genuinely.
 

I closed my menu and set it on the table. “I’ll have the steak. Simple enough.”

“Great. A drink?”

The waiter appeared and took our drink orders, and Mack and I settled back into an oddly comfortable silence, looking at each other from across the table. At first I tried not to check out the cleavage her slinky dress presented, but after a minute or so, I threw caution to the wind - she knew how she looked, and she knew I would look too. Why fight it any longer than I had to?

We talked at first about the game and what we’d done to win. None of this was new - each of us had attended post game meetings and gone over the keys to victory and takeaways we could use against our next opponent, the Pittsburgh Steelers, next weekend.

I didn’t really want to talk about football, in fact. That was what I did all day, pretty much every day, and though most people didn’t know it, there was more to me than the football field.

“You’ve been on the Patriots your entire career, Hud,” Mack said, out of nowhere, after we had made our dinner orders.

I nodded, sipping my drink. “You’re right. Patriots for life. That was your father’s doing.”

“You were one of his first draft picks as an owner; he’s been very proud of your career.”

That warmed me up even more than the booze. “He’s been an inspiration to me, and I’ve tried to play hard every year as a way to thank him for taking a chance on me.”

“I know he appreciates it.” We both looked into our glasses for a moment, the tension in the air suddenly a lot higher for what felt like no reason at all. “What do you want to do after football?” The way she said it sounded so formal, I instantly went on guard.

So that was it after all. This wasn’t a social dinner, this was Mack trying to figure out my contract situation in advance. For a second I wanted to excuse myself, go to the restroom and call my agent, get his advice, and then duck out so we could regroup and figure out our strategy going forward.

As soon as the idea came to my head I dismissed it. Even if Mack had brought me here to release me just as the playoffs got underway, there was no way I was leaving this table before her. Not when she looked like that. Not when just seeing her turned me on so much.

But that didn’t mean I was going to let the team take advantage of me. She was trying to see how ready for retirement I was. In professional football years I was practically a dinosaur at 32, and the last couple seasons hadn’t been my best.

Mack wanted to see if she could get me on a team friendly deal to end my career and come off their books so they could sign some rookie to take my spot at way less money.

“I mean, obviously you’ve given it some thought,” Mack started, seeing that I hadn’t yet spoken after her question.

“You’re right, I have,” I replied.

“And?”

“Right now I’m focused on the playoffs, and making sure we win the title,” I replied flatly. I knew that there was a test in there somewhere.

Mack laughed, a beautiful sound that I only wanted to hear more of. “Of course that’s the answer you have to give.” She leaned in closer, and my eyes flicked to her chest; I tried not to get hard and failed immediately. “But what do you really want to do once it’s over?”

This definitely wasn’t a social call anymore. Mackenzie Mayfield may have had a weird way of going about things, but it was clear to me that this was all business right now. I sat up straighter, trying to banish all thoughts of kissing her and unwrapping that sexy body and tried to get into business mode all at the same time.

It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was downright impossible.

She had me cornered, though. What else could I do? “I have given it some thought.”

“And?”

“I want to work with kids, I think.”

Mack’s eyes went wide. “Really?” she asked, incredulously. “Tell me more.”

CHAPTER 09 - MACKENZIE

“Yeah, I realized a few years back that aside from playing football, the most fun I’ve had as a Patriot was all the community service work we do in the offseason and on off-days. I think I’d like to keep doing stuff like that.”

Wow, I hadn’t counted on that. I figured Hud would want to go hunting or fishing all the time, maybe work on those bikes of his. I certainly knew from going over the team contracts that he’d made enough money even not counting endorsements that he wouldn’t have to work for the rest of his life if he didn’t want to, and at 32, that was a lot of life left to go.

I nodded, and I could feel my eyes get bigger. “That sounds like a great idea. I didn’t know the players liked those events so much.”

Hud leaned in. “A lot of us got our first taste at better lives through events like that, Mack, when we were kids.”
 

I blinked as I understood, and nodded, clearing my throat. “Yeah, that makes sense.” I had never known anything other than an easy home life. By the time I was born my parents had already been successful in business and I could barely remember them ever fighting together. “You went to an event like that as a kid?”

Hud nodded, and I could tell he was replaying the memories from long ago in his head. “Yeah, it was a charity football summer camp. I had never held a football before. I had wanted to choose something else, but by the time they called my name, football was the only thing left.” He looked around. “We didn’t have much, growing up, so it was a big deal that I could go to one of these camps for free.”

My jaw hit the floor, and I tried to scoop it back up again. “That was the first time you had played football? You weren’t into sports as a kid?”

Hud smiled. “Nope, not even for a minute. Sure, I was always a big kid.”

“And? That seems like just the right type for sports.”

“Yeah, but I was always stronger than everyone else too. And I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I learned pretty quickly that since I was bigger than everyone else, if I horsed around like they all did someone might end up getting hurt, and I didn’t want that.”

I sat back, speechless. I had Hudson Asher all wrong this entire time - whatever jock stereotypes I had attached to him because of his size and demeanor in the locker room with his buddies was totally wrong.

“You didn’t want to hurt anyone?”

Hud shook his head. “Nope. I was a really gentle kid. Then that camp came along, and I gave football a try,” he nodded to the larger dining room. “And here I am.” He smiled.
 

“And here you are,” I whispered back. “I had no idea, Hud.” I knew I was incredibly lucky in my upbringing, but to hear that Hud had come from so little and made so much of himself warmed my heart.

Hud shrugged. “No big deal, Mack, you’ve got 53 players on the roster, you can’t know everyone’s life story.”

I nodded. “You’re right.”

Our food arrived just then and we dove in, eating with relish and not talking much. Every so often I snuck glances over at Hud on the other side of the table, and each time he would lock eyes with me and smile, and each smile would make my stomach do summersaults.

Other books

Blind Spot by Terri Persons
Charis by Francis, Mary
Institute by James M. Cain
McNally's Caper by Lawrence Sanders
Silk and Champagne by Brennan, M.M.
Formerly Fingerman by Joe Nelms