Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(80)

Everyone except Nance and one or two other guys cheered. Nance grabbed his shit and walked out, slamming the door behind him. It sucked, but I wasn’t surprised. I just hoped we could all find a way to play together next season.

Coach eyed Nance as he left, then turned to us. “I’ll talk to him in private,” he assured us, then lingered, arms crossed, as a few people came up to talk to us and offer their support.

And when G and I headed out, we headed out together and proud.

“You know we gotta win next season, right? Shut all the haters up?” Garrett asked.

“Fuck yeah. I’m not accepting any other possibility.”

“If Ramsey wills it so, then it will be.”

I looked at him and laughed. “What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Aww. My boyfriend is such a dork.” I grabbed him right there in the middle of the practice facility parking lot, pulled him into a hug, and kissed him. If someone saw, well, I hoped they enjoyed the show. We were hot as fuck together.

“You like doing that—calling me your boyfriend.”

“Eh, it’s all right.”

“Yeah, right. All I did was give you the look one time, and then I threw out the line, reeled you in, and now you’re in love with me. I’m even better than I thought.”

“Wait…didn’t you say you loved me for years or some shit?”

Garrett pushed me, and we laughed before hugging again. Goddamn, I was so happy. “I love you, G,” I told him, mouth close to his ear.

“I love you too.”





EPILOGUE





GARRETT





“Damn, that’s a lot of meat,” Houston said, then reached out and preemptively covered my mouth with one hand as he tossed the lighter onto the island, where Ramsey and I were in the midst of slathering sauce and seasonings onto trays of chicken, burgers, and ribs.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Houston must have understood my garbled response well enough because he relented, starting to lower his hand only to smack it over my mouth again when I opened it.

Ramsey and I both cracked up, and I shoved Houston’s hand away. “See, this is me not making a dumb meat joke.”

Ramsey eyed me sidelong, a smile playing over his lips. “It’s killing you, though, isn’t it?” He glanced over at Houston. “It’s killing him.”

I pressed my lips firmly together and shook my head.

“It’s definitely killing him.” Houston chuckled. “Your face is turning red from how hard you’re trying to hold back, G.”

My cheeks did feel a little hot. “Nope.” I poured some more barbecue sauce over my tray of chicken. “Just enjoying the simple domestic bliss of grilling for my friends.” I picked up the tray and carried it out to the deck.

Outside, a balmy breeze rushed over the back of my neck, carrying a lush green scent mixed with the tang of the pond below.

Renovations had been completed two weeks before training camp, the dingy carpet gone, everything repainted in the muted hues I loved at Ramsey’s place, new fixtures installed, the kitchen gutted and redone. But the deck was still my favorite spot, and I knew without a doubt I’d made the right decision. I’d been making a lot of those lately, and it felt good.

I set the tray down on the table beside the grill and glanced at Ramsey as he set another beside mine before holding out his phone. “Check it out. They got your good side.”

I studied the images on the screen of me and Ramsey at Lake Havasu. It’d been the last trip we’d taken before camp started. “This is a close-up of your hand on my ass.”

Ramsey grinned. “Like I said, your good side.”

I flipped him off with a laugh and scrolled through the rest of the photos. There were a couple more of us on the boat we’d rented, then of other celeb couples on various vacations. “Huh. We’re in pretty good company here.”

Ramsey shrugged. “I can’t help it that I’m such a badass QB.”

“Yeah, but whose ass did they zoom in on?” I smirked and handed his phone back, then grabbed the tongs and threw some chicken on the grill.

“Because my hand is on it.”

Laughter bubbled out of me, and I didn’t bother to jab back because I loved how, over the past months, he’d gotten more relaxed about us being out together. We’d never made a formal announcement, but we’d been papped hot and heavy in a club one night, and the reporters had come running. The Rush’s PR team had issued a statement of support, and the initial frenzy had died down after a couple of weeks. I imagined there’d be more to come once the season officially started, but I didn’t think it would be anything we couldn’t handle together.

Inside the house, I could hear some of the other guys arriving. Tucker’s booming voice, Houston’s laugh, Ellis bitching about something.

Ramsey nudged me as I closed the top on the grill. “What was the meat joke you were gonna make? I’ll listen to it.” He looked pointedly at the kielbasas. “It was gonna be a sausage joke, wasn’t it?”

“I’ll never tell.” I motioned with my tongs at the tray. “But I’d definitely prefer my sausage stuffing your mouth than lying sideways on a plate.”