Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(14)

Of course, he’d been drunk as fuck. He never would have told me in the first place if he hadn’t emptied the bar of beer. But there was no doubt I’d liked hearing it, my dick perking up and taking notice because Garrett McRae was ridiculously fucking hot too.

I liked knowing he thought that about me. I’d liked hearing it even more.

My phone rang again. “Jesus.” I tossed a few Rush T-shirts onto the bed, peeked at my cell, and answered. “Text. It’s called texting,” I told Houston while trying to pretend I hadn’t been thinking about his brother and how adorable he’d been laid out flat on my bed before I’d forced him to the guest room. The fucker hadn’t even been embarrassed about it the next day.

“I usually do. But I just had lunch with Garrett and wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.” I sat on the edge of the bed. I’d only seen Garrett a couple of times since the draft and our night out. Before things were confirmed, I’d been a little nervous because his contract negotiations had taken longer than usual. I thought maybe he’d changed his mind, and I cared a whole lot more than I should. While partly it was because I didn’t want a guy on the team who didn’t want to be there, I understood where he was coming from. Hell, I still couldn’t believe I’d mentioned my dad that day. My first year in the league, every interview brought him up—they’d wanted to lay all his fuckups on the table, comparing me to him every step of the way, even though I didn’t make any of the dumb mistakes he did. No drugs, no ego too big for the locker room, no missed practices, no drama. Things had chilled out since, and I didn’t go around bringing him up, but hell, the last thing a guy should feel was disappointed on the night he got drafted to the NFL.

“You know how I’m worried something will go wrong?” Houston said. “That he’ll get himself in trouble?”

“Wait. You are?” I teased.

“Somehow you’re under the impression you’re funny.”

A soft chuckle rolled off my tongue. “I’m giving you shit. Yes, I’m aware.” And while how drunk he’d gotten the night we went out wasn’t a huge deal, it was another tally mark on the column that said Houston was right and Garrett needed to be careful.

“I was feeling some kind of somethin’ about him going to the Rush, but you know, it’s perfect because you’re there, and I was thinking you could keep an eye on him.”

Well, shit. I hadn’t expected that and wasn’t sure what I thought about it. “Garrett doesn’t strike me as someone who would be okay with that.”

“He wouldn’t know. I’m not telling you to go on some top-secret mission here. Just watch out for him, keep him in line, make sure that big-ass ego of his doesn’t get him in trouble.”

“This sounds like the beginning of every rom-com I’ve never been forced to watch.”

“You love that shit.”

“Shh. You said you wouldn’t tell anyone.” Who could you share your secrets with if not your best friend?

“So I should cancel the skywriter I booked?”

I sighed. “Let’s get back to my deep dark secrets later. What are you getting me into here, Houston? I’m the quarterback. It’s my job to watch out for everyone on the team.”

“I know. I’m not asking you to bend the rules for him. I have too much respect for both of you to do that. Just don’t let him be his own worst enemy.” When I didn’t reply, he added, “And you don’t have to worry about the rom-com thing. He’s my brother; that would just be weird. Plus, his name doesn’t start with the letter A.”

“You’re a dick, you know that?” Also, was this a good time to tell Houston his brother was fucking hot? That them being related didn’t make it so I didn’t think he was spank-bank material?

“But you love me.”

I did. He was the brother I never had, which sort of meant Garrett was too, only I liked to check out Garrett’s ass and I didn’t do that with Houston’s. “Fine. Babysit the little man. Got it.”





The Rush training facility was about forty minutes outside Denver, but our team had a rule about staying in a hotel for camp. It wasn’t mandatory because they couldn’t really do that, but it was strongly encouraged, and we all knew that meant keep your ass in the fucking hotel to be a team player. Because that was what it was all about—building camaraderie, growing bonds so we were like a family before the season started. It wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but I got it, especially for the rookies. We needed to get used to each other, get to know and trust each other.

I headed toward the entrance while shooting off a text to Garrett. How far out are you?

Who dis?

I rolled my eyes. He was such a fucking idiot. Your favorite person.

It was ridiculous how I watched my phone for his reply. I never knew what would come out of Garrett’s mouth next, and I liked that. Most people were predictable, and I guessed in some ways he was too, but not in others.

Santa? Is that you? I knew you were real! Can I sit on your lap?

A flash of a naked Garrett riding my dick flittered through my head, sending blood rushing for my cock. Not a good sign. I shoved those thoughts away and answered him. Get your ass here, slowpoke.