If Piper ran the team, she would bench Monte Oliver and promote Levi to the starter. But she wasn’t in charge, nor was she an expert. If given a chance, she would rule with her heart, not her head—exactly why she wasn’t the one making the decisions.
As though aware of Piper’s thoughts, Levi spoke before she could give her opinion.
“I should go,” he said. “Dylan’s head is bobbing. Any second now, he’ll start to drool.”
Piper let out a snort of laughter at the image so graphically painted by Levi.
“Nudge him and everyone else out of the bar and toward their rooms,” she instructed.
“Roger that,” Levi agreed. “You know my policy when clearing out of any drinking establishment.”
“No man left behind,” Piper said, her voice in unison with his. “Have a safe flight.”
“Be careful on your drive home,” Levi told her. “I’ll call you as soon as our plane lands.”
After saying goodbye, Piper set her phone aside and stretched her arms over her head. What would her life be like without Levi? The thought was, well, unthinkable. Had their meeting been fate? Stupid luck? She couldn’t say. She didn’t care. She’d found him and that was all that mattered.
Piper had been ready to leave the wedding reception when her phone rang. Seeing the caller was her mother, she answered rather than put off the inevitable harping about how distressing it was to have a daughter who couldn’t find a man.
After standing up, she decided to treat herself to a drink before hitting the road. As she climbed onto the barstool, her gaze had landed on Levi’s handsome face, and the rest was history.
Though her mother hadn’t loved Levi the way Piper anticipated—everything about him rubbed Edina Engels wrong—the unswerving friendship they’d developed made her choice to stay rather than leave one of the best decisions of her life.
Slipping on her jacket, Piper locked her office door and walked down the hall toward the elevator, a small smile forming on her lips. Husbands—as her mother proved—were a dime a dozen. A man like Levi Reynolds—her personal, number one backup plan—was priceless.
CHAPTER TWO
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LEVI ADJUSTED HIS headset. The steady beat of mellow classic rock music entered his ears and soothed his mind while relaxing his body. He stretched his legs to their full length and let out a contented sigh and glanced out at the passing clouds.
Because Levi had played for other teams before signing with the Knights, he knew the difference between a first-class organization and one that treated its players with bargain-basement sensibilities. Like with everything else she did in life, the teams’ owner Riley Preston believed in going first class whenever possible.
The plane Riley meticulously picked out to carry the Seattle Knights’ to their road games was no exception.
More of a luxury hotel than a mere flying machine, every detail was designed to make the flight as enjoyable as possible. The softest blankets, the fluffiest pillows, and the kind of dining menu that would make a four-star restaurant weep with envy. The beverages were strictly non-alcoholic. However, no one could complain about the selection or quality.
A glass of sparkling water in one hand, the latest book by his favorite author in the other, Levi settled into his seat, anticipating an easy, no-hassle flight home. He was spoiled and wasn’t afraid to admit it. Though he could afford a first-class ticket when he flew commercial, nothing could beat the peaceful bliss of a private plane.
“Hey, man. Got a minute?”
Without waiting for an answer, Monte Oliver sprawled his lanky frame into the seat next to Levi’s.
“Sure.” Levi suppressed a sigh as he set aside his book. “What’s on your mind?”
“I need help picking out a new ride.” Monte pointed toward his phone where several pictures of sports cars were displayed. “What do you think? I like the red one, but black is classic.”
The first thing that popped into Levi’s mind was, what the fuck? The second? What the fuck? The Knights’ starting quarterback was floundering—as an athlete and as a leader of the team. Each week he digressed a bit more and the only person who seemed unaware of the problem was Monte.
Now, instead of coming to Levi for advice on how to fix his game, Monte was worried about which overpriced piece of a high-speed automobile to drop his money on? Holy shit. What the fuck? If a lack of self-awareness were an Olympic sport, the kid would take home the gold going away.
Monte’s main problem was he’d been blessed with too much natural talent. He’d coasted through high school and college, relying on his God-given abilities. Once he reached the NFL, he didn’t realize how difficult the game would be. At the professional level, everyone was elite and unless you continued to hone your skills, you were destined for a short, unspectacular career.
“You’re a good-looking man.”
Levi tried to pick his words carefully, to ease into the meat of the problem. With Monte, a little buttering up was always a good place to start. Unfortunately, the younger man chose to mistake an innocent compliment as a come on.
“Hey,” Monte said, scooting away. “I know you and Dylan have a special relationship, but I’m not into other guys.”
Exasperated, Levi looked around for something to pound his head against. Better yet, he needed a way to knock some sense into Monte because words weren’t strong enough to penetrate his thick skull. He didn’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thought about his sexuality. But, damn, he hated people who jumped to ill-informed conclusions.
Levi rolled his shoulders and counted to ten. He still wanted to use his fists to wipe the horrified look off Monte’s face, but he had the impulse under control.
“Trust me, you’re not my type,” Levi said with a sigh. “Let me get to the point. Instead of worrying about a new car, work to help the team. We lost. Again. Remember?”
“We?” Monte sneered. “Since when do you have anything to do with wins and losses?”
“Never,” Levi admitted without hesitation. “But I know the team needs you to step up your game. If you don’t want my help—”
“I don’t need your help, old man.” Anger flushing his cheeks, Monte jumped to his feet. “You’re a has-been. Nothing. A joke. I’m a star. Keep your advice to yourself and fuck off.”
“Delightful personality,” Dylan said as he arrived after spending the last hour flirting with a pretty, blonde flight attendant. Taking his seat, he watched Monte storm off down the aisle. “Stellar. Top-notch.”
“Everyone heard?” When Dylan nodded, Levi rubbed his temples. “Not good.”
“The guys are on your side.”
“Which is the problem,” Levi said, keeping his volume down so only Dylan could hear. “For better or worse, Monte is the starting quarterback, the leader. The team needs to have his back.”
“Except the jerk doesn’t lead, he alienates.” Dylan rarely spoke out against a teammate and then only to Levi. “What Monte needs is to ride the bench for a few games. Bench the bastard. Might knock some of the wind out of his pompous ass.”