Blitzed (The Alpha Ballers #3)

by Lucy Snow

  I went right into the meeting. Everyone was there except Mack - she came in a couple minutes later, apologizing for being late.

  She’d cleaned up well, wearing a crisp business suit and looking super hot as always. I tried to disconnect the woman sitting in front of me from the one who had woken up in my bed this morning, and who had jumped into my arms and kissed me with a passion that I’d never experienced before.

  It wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t sure how successful I was.

  The meeting started, and the first and only order of business was discussion of new facilities. We were considering either remodeling the current facilities this offseason, or starting the process on getting new buildings designed and constructed for use in a couple years.

  The meeting didn’t take very long, and I wasn’t paying all that much attention besides planting my hand on the conference table and voicing the players’ loud concerns about the quality of food in the cafeteria, but every so often, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I noticed Mack looking at me. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking when she did, and I didn’t dare look at her directly to try and get a better view.

  The meeting ended soon after, and I stood up, eager to get back to my part of the complex. “Hudson, could you wait a second?” Mack called to me from behind just as I had gotten to the doorway. “I’ve got a question for you.”

  “Sure, Mackenzie,” I said, turning around. “What’s up?”

  Mack stood up from her seat at the table and held up a finger, asking for a second, before she walked behind me and closed the door. I turned to watch her and couldn’t help but enjoy how her outfit clung to her curves. The feeling of having those curves in my arms just a few hours ago came back, and I breathed deep, trying to stay in the moment and not succeeding.

  Mack pressed her back against the closed door. “I just wanted to say…”

  I turned to face her in full. “Mack, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll keep my mouth shut.” I figured she wanted to make sure that I was on the same page about Steve.

  “That’s not what I was going to ask you about, Hud.”

  “Alright, what is it?” She disengaged from the door and came up to me, close enough to be professional, but now I could smell her perfume, and it was tough to control myself. Maybe she was embarrassed by what had happened this morning and wanted to apologize for kissing me, not that I was complaining.

  “I was wondering if you would have dinner with me some time soon.” She looked down as she said it, then locked eyes with me, as if to drive the point home.

  “Dinner?” That I didn’t expect.

  “Yeah. My treat.”

  She must be doing this to say thank you for last night, or for taking care of her this morning, that was all I could come up with. I didn’t know what to say - this was totally unprofessional, and though we had definitely crossed that line this morning, I wasn’t sure what to do next.

  “Mack…”

  “Say you will, Hud.” She looked so eager and hopeful.

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  “Great!” She almost jumped up and down she was so happy.

  “But…”

  “Yeah?”

  “We gotta wait till after the wildcard game this weekend. I’ve got a lot going on and I gotta focus on work for a little while.”

  Mack rocked back and forth on her heels. “Totally understood, Hud, good idea.”

  “Is there anything else?” All I could think about was bending her over the conference room table, lifting up her skirt, and fucking her hard. If no one else had been in the building, I might have done just that.

  “Nope, that’s all.” She turned back to her stuff, gathering it up. “Oh, and I’ll see what I can do about the food.”

  “Thanks.”

  And then I was off, back to where I belonged, with the players.

  CHAPTER 07 - MACKENZIE

  Sunday came faster than I expected, but then again, the playoffs were a special time of year. Before I knew what hit me, I found myself on the morning of the wild card game, setting into my seats.

  All around me fans were arriving, and I loved that they showed up so early to cheer on their team, even a couple hours before the game began. I could easily sit in the owner’s box with my father and his celebrity friends, but that had never excited me.

  My solution was to sit in a different section each game. I wasn’t exactly in disguise, but with a heavy coat and hat on, and since I wasn’t famous, unlikely my father, it was easy for me to blend in with other Patriots fans and just enjoy the game as it should be enjoyed. All I needed was a big Patriots hoodie under an authentic Hudson Asher jersey, with my binoculars hanging around my neck. No one knew who I was!

  As game time got closer, the players took the field, then started stretching and doing warm ups. The Kansas City Chiefs came out first, to lusty boos from the assembled crowds. There were pockets of fans in red here and there, but almost everyone wore Patriots blue.

  The Chiefs were known for their running game, but this year their best running back, possibly the best back in the league, had gone down early with a season-ending injury. Still, instead of folding and writing the season off as a total loss, the team had rallied around their defense and mediocre passing offense and gotten them all the way to the playoffs. It was a wildcard berth, which meant an extra game, but we were in the same boat this year.

  They matched up well against us, their stalwart defense against our high powered offense. While the Patriots won by scoring a ton of points and not worrying too much about how many we gave up, the Chiefs won by stifling the other team’s offense then putting up just enough points to prevail.

  It was gonna be a good game, and as I looked up at the sun breaking through the clouds, maybe a warmer day than I expected too. That did not work in our favor - the Patriots enjoyed a bit of an advantage in colder weather, because most teams couldn’t brave the elements as well as we could. If it was a warm day after all, that bonus wouldn’t be on our side as much.

  The fans next to me showed up and we joked about the weather before starting to talk about how the teams matched up. Of course we all thought the Patriots were going to win, and there were many high fives and thumbs up handed around.

  I loved sitting with the fans - it was nice to just be a football fan and get into the spirit of the crowds. Of course I loved the intricacies and depth of the game itself, but sometimes it was great to just sit in a stadium of tens of thousands of rowdy fans and just yell your head off as your team took the other guys apart.

  After a little more fanfare, the game started, and we settled into our seats, yelling and joking around while we ate, drank, and watched our Patriots take on the Kansas City Chiefs.

  The Patriots offense didn’t have a good first half - a few consecutive three-and-outs meant our defense was on the field a little more than I would have liked, but at least then I got to see Hud play. Even from all this distance, I watched him on the sidelines, thrilled each time he grabbed his helmet and jogged onto the field. His helmet had a green sticker on the back - he was the one player on defense whose helmet had a speaker in it so the coaching staff could speak to him, call out defenses, tell them formations based on what the staff saw the opposing offense was trying.

  Even then, I knew, given Hud’s experience and intelligence, the coaching staff had given him wide latitude to improvise if he saw a particular read he didn’t like, an offensive player trying something a little off-book. And most of the time, Hud’s hunches were right, and he was able to direct his guys around and get them ready, leading the offense to reset itself in a hurry to try and move back to a more conventional play.

  It was a really good way to keep other teams off balance, and it had been a huge part in getting us this far, especially after missing out on our star quarterback’s presence for much of the regular season. It wasn’t often that a team was able to resurrect a season after a bad start like that coupled with a key player going down for multiple w
eeks.

  Sure, we were only a wildcard team as a result, but at least we had a seat at the playoffs table. That was as much as we could hope for.

  Just before halftime, the Patriots offense led by Lance Parker and Drake Rollins stormed back out on the field. They got there because a couple minutes earlier, Hud had charged right at the Chiefs’ running back and delivered a bone-crunching hit, making him cough up the football. Hud had scooped it up, cradling it in his huge arms and carrying it almost lovingly as far as he could go before the bewildered Chiefs offense collected itself and pulled him down.

  My entire adopted section had jumped to its feet, cheering lustily at the turnover. Lance and Drake came out with their 9 friends, looking grim and glancing up at the scoreboard. We were down, but if we could score before the half at least we would be in a good position to strike in the second half.

  And score we did. This time the Chiefs defense managed to lock Drake down pretty hard, but it took an extra guy to do so, leaving another receiver the perfect opportunity to make a quick catch and run into the end zone.

  As they jogged off the field, Drake and Lance took off their helmets. Through my binoculars, I watched Drake, eager to see his reaction to drawing attention away from the play rather than being the guy who scored, as he was used to.

  To my surprise, Drake was all smiles as he and Lance left the field. I nodded to myself, giving myself a virtual pat on the back for marching into Coach Armstrong’s office months ago and demanding he signed this undrafted rookie free agent whom no one wanted because of his ‘character concerns.’

  Well, those ‘character concerns’ had been a mirage. Sure, Drake Rollins started out and still was rough around the edges, but it was pretty obvious that he was already one of the best receivers in the league, and we had gotten him for nothing. I made a mental note to figure out with my team when exactly we should start talks with him on a long term contract - him and Lance Parker too.

  I wanted them both to be Patriots for a long time.

  The second half went far better for us than the first. Buoyed by that late score in the 2nd quarter, the Patriots came rushing out of the locker room after the half and totally bowled the Chiefs over. When the offense wasn’t on the field lighting it up, Hudson Asher was leading the defense, keeping the Chiefs locked down hard.

  In the end we won by 14. It didn’t seem like much, but in the playoffs, winning without taking a serious injury was all you really wanted.

  As the fans in my section started to leave, I hugged my new friends I’d made to my left and right, saying my goodbyes. As I filed out, down to the lower floor to get to the field and then the locker room to celebrate our first playoff win in a long time, I texted my assistant. The fans I’d sat with were long time Patriots fans, owning those tickets for more than 15 years. It had occurred to me during the game to comp their season tickets for next year, and my assistant responded almost instantly that it had been done.

  I headed down to the field, shaking hands with staff members along the way. The weather had cooled down significantly, and I shivered in my giant hoodie as I walked across the field, looking up and all around at the rapidly emptying stadium. ESPN was set up in one corner doing post-game - I made sure and avoid their sweeping cameras - even if I enjoyed dressing like this and being a regular fan for once, it wouldn’t do for some producer to recognize me and chase me around for an interview.

  I did see Lily off to one side doing an interview with a staff member. I always had time to talk to her, so I waited till she was done then I tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Mackenzie!” Lily said, clearly surprised at how I looked. “Where have you been?”

  I laughed, then pointed to the section I’d been in, way up in the cheap seats. “Up there. It’s definitely more fun watching the games up there.” I smiled again. “Also, no cameras on me.”

  Lily chuckled. “Oh, come on, cameras aren’t that bad, are they?” She leaned in. “Can we get an interview? The fans would love to see you dressed up like that.”

  “Oh, please, Lily, not right now.” I said, looking down, then back at her. “You really think so?”

  “Are you kidding?” She added, softer. “Mackenzie, you’re probably going to be the general manager of the team soon, and people around here already act like you are. Your father owns the team. Of course they’d love to see you act like a regular fan just like them.”

  “Ummm, OK,” I said, flustered, but seeing her point. “Let’s do it. Just, please, go easy on me.” I threw up my hands. “I’m a little discombobulated right now - we just won our first playoff game in forever!” The last part came out as a shout.

  Lily smiled and pointed to her camera man. I tried to compose myself, and we went ahead with the interview. I tried to be as relaxed and as much like a regular fan as I could, and I thought I pulled it off well!

  After it was over I gave Lily a hug and walked into the locker room. As I made my way there, I thought about Lily and Drake. Of course I had heard about the rumors of those two sneaking around the facility during the preseason, and though I couldn’t really show it at the time, Drake’s celebration and declaration of love during the last preseason game had warmed my heart to no end.

  I was thrilled for the both of them - watching my father over the last few months try and deal with the loss of my mother after so many years of love and companionship had really opened me up to those things - I wanted to celebrate it wherever I could.

  And maybe even find it for myself?

  Just then I got to the locker room and stepped inside. There were some chuckles from the players at my outfit, complete with binoculars, but by now most of the players were used to me sitting with the regular fans.

  I walked straight up to Coach Armstrong and congratulated him on a good game, turning around and addressing the entire team next, congratulating them on their victory and trying to spur them on to next week and the divisional round. Three wins left and they would be champions, remembered forever.

  After I was done talking to the whole team I went around and talked to Lance and Drake, lauding their offensive performance and Drake in particular for letting some other receivers take some of the glory after the Chiefs decided to double up on him. He took it all in stride, and I could see that he had really matured in the last few months. Definitely Patriots material, that Drake Rollins.

  Lance Parker was all smiles too, and I could tell he was eager to get out of the locker room as soon as possible and find Charlotte. Those two were nearly inseparable, and while I had checked over the employee handbook regarding on the job relationships, I couldn’t find it in me to be anything but thrilled for the both of them - they were clearly in love, and if I had heard the rumors correctly, expecting a child soon!

  It was a little weird that given my position I couldn’t really be as buddy buddy with these players and staff members as I might have liked - they all seemed like really interesting people and I would have loved to get to know them on a more personal level, but even I, with my sometimes-weird ideas of how to run a business, couldn’t cross that line so easily.

  I saved Hudson Asher for last. As soon as I had come into the room I knew his eyes had been on me - I could feel them anywhere. But I had pushed through, even though he gave me goosebumps just being there. I knew his post-game routine - a shower, time in the ice water tank, another shower, steam room, and then getting dressed for any media stuff.

  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.