“I don’t want to overstep,” Gaige rushed to explain. “If you need anything. Advice. If you just need to vent. Call me. Anytime, day or night.”
“Same goes for us,” Sean said, nodding toward Logan. “We’ll leave the QB stuff between you and Gaige. However, anything else football related, we’re your men.”
Levi was humbled. He was certain at some point he’d take advantage of the help they so graciously offered. Probably sooner than later.
“Thanks.” Levi shook Gaige’s hand. Sean and Logan were next. “Really. I’m grateful.”
“Knights for life,” Sean said with a wink. “We bleed blue and gold.”
“Go. Get some rest.” Taking Logan’s arm, Darcy led him to the door. “You have more to celebrate tonight than just Piper’s birthday.”
Piper. In all the excitement, their plans for the evening had completely slipped his mind. He looked at his watch. Damn, where had the day gone?
“I should call her,” Levi said, reaching for his phone. Darcy stopped him.
“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I spoke with Piper a few hours ago. She knows.”
“Everything?” Levi asked. Darcy nodded.
“Sorry,” she said. “In a perfect world, I would have waited and let you share the good news. But when she called to get an update on the Monte Oliver situation, I saw no reason not to tell her that you were the Knights’ new starting quarterback.”
Though Levi knew that Piper was bound to hear the news long before he could tell her, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. How often did a man get the chance to tell one of his best friends that all his dreams were about to come true?
Levi chuckled. Piper being Piper, her reaction when she saw him would be epic—whether she found out from him or someone else. She would put his good fortune before her birthday. The cake, the celebration would all become about him.
While Levi appreciated Piper’s ability to make him feel like the center of the world, there was no way he would let her forget how special the day she came into the world was to him.
Levi exited Darcy’s office, his brain waves rocketing a mile a minute. In the next six days, he had to prepare his body and his mind to play football at the highest level. No time for self-doubts, churning stomachs, or wobbly legs. He couldn’t fail. Too many people were now counting on him not to drop the ball—so to speak. Himself included.
Lifting his head, squaring his shoulders, what Levi found in the hallway stopped him in his tracks. Lining the walls on each side, were the entire Seattle Knights’ team. All fifty-three. Shoulder to shoulder, one arm raised, hands gripping facemasks, helmets forming a canopy.
“Three cheers for our starting QB.” They shouted in unison. “Hip, hip, hooray. Hip, hip, hooray. Hip, hip hooray.”
Not certain whether he wanted—needed—to laugh or cry, Levi did neither. He simply stared, looking from grinning face to grinning face. He suspected the grin on his lips was equally as goofy.
As he walked along the unexpected procession, he slapped hands with each player.
When Levi reached the end of the line, Dylan pulled him into a bear hug.
“I told you so,” his friend said.
“Just couldn’t resist rubbing it in, could you,” Levi asked when he was finally allowed to stand on his own feet again.
“Nope.” Dylan planted a kiss on Levi’s cheek.
“And that,” Levi said with a shake of his head as he wiped the wet from his face, “is why people think we’re gay.”
Unconcerned as always, Dylan slung an arm over Levi’s shoulders.
“In the next life, let’s be lovers.” He paused. “On the other hand, I like pussy, not dick. Can’t imagine swinging the other way. Not even for you. Sorry. Let’s just be friends.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Levi laughed. “Asshole.”
“But you love me,” Dylan said with complete confidence. He let out a whoop. “And now, we get to play football. Together. Finally.”
Together. Finally. Levi felt another jolt of shock hit his body. Less like a ton of bricks this time and more like a sledgehammer, the impact still rattled him right down to his bones.
Levi Reynolds, starting quarterback for the Seattle Knights. He shook his head. Holy Shit.
CHAPTER SIX
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PIPER LIT A candle. She leaned close and breathed in. The scent of lavender filled the air. She breathed deeper. Deeper. And waited. And waited. When nothing happened, she read the packaging and the claims that by now she should be floating away on a cloud of happy tranquility. Instead, her nerves felt just as wired as before.
Annoyed with what turned out to be one more example of false advertising, Piper dropkicked the box over the sofa and into the far corner.
“Foo,” she said to the empty room. “Double foo.”
Recently, Piper decided to stop using curse words as a crutch. Quietly, silently, with no witnesses in case she failed, she’d made the self-imposed pledge. She was a college-educated woman with a curious and agile mind. Rather than falling back on the same old crude—though admittedly satisfying—ways of expressing her anger and frustration, she needed a more sophisticated, even erudite, solution.
So far, foo was the best alternative she’d found. To say the word didn’t carry the same heft as shit, damn, and fuck was an understatement.
Entertained by her wandering musings, Piper crossed to the kitchen. Outside of an arthouse movie or a Jane Austen novel, who used the word erudite? She did, she thought with a snort as she turned on the electric kettle and removed a brass box from the cupboard. She opened the lid and perused the contents.
Herbal tea. Taking a packet of Mandarin Memories, Piper dipped the bag into her cup of hot water, her lip curling in derision at what she knew, like the lavender-scented candle, would turn out to be all promise and no follow-through.
If the tea came close to the taste of a mandarin, Piper vowed to eat her favorite pair of running shoes. She took a sip. Nope, she decided. Not even close. Her footwear—and her stomach were safe for another day.
Holding the drink in one hand, she leaned against the counter. Lord, she longed for a good old-fashioned cup of caffeine.
Restless, Piper checked her phone for the umpteenth time. Nothing. No texts. No missed calls. Just a blank screen, mocking her growing desperation. She tapped her fingers, tapped her toes. She forced herself not to look at the clock. And failed miserably.
Ten o’clock? Where the heck was he?
Realistically, Piper understood that she was low on the priority list of the man who had just been named the Seattle Knights’ starting quarterback. But come on. Give a girl a break. She’d suffered with him, commiserated, railed at the injustice when he remained steadfastly calm.
Piper even shed a few tears—just a few. In private because she knew how Levi fell apart whenever she cried in earnest.
After all the years of getting pushed aside in favor of the latest next-great future superstar, Levi Reynolds’ time had finally arrived.