“I don’t know about little, and neither do you.” I rolled my eyes as he approached me again, trapping me against the counter. “Don’t act like this wasn’t the best dick of your life,” he murmured into my ear as his hands moved to my ass. “You forgot or something?”
I bit my lip as I looked up, meeting his eyes. Garrett Brooks was, honestly, finer than fine. Once upon a time, he’d been everything to me, with his deep golden skin and curly hair and light eyes – Black 90s heartthrob material through and through, and he’d played me like a damn fool, just like on the sitcoms.
“No. I haven’t forgotten that you used to be the best dick of my life.”
“Wait, what?! I know you haven’t been—”
“This looks cozy.”
I looked up to find my – our – sixteen-year-old daughter, Madison, standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a huge grin on her face.
“Do not get any ideas little girl,” I warned her, already knowing what that look meant. She’d been on a not-so-secret campaign to get us back together, and still hadn’t quite gotten the message that it wasn’t happening.
It was never happening.
“What do you mean?” she shrugged, playing innocent as I pushed Garrett off me.
I shook my head. “Don’t play. Grab something to eat while I get ready, and then I’ll take you to school okay?”
“Oh, no worries mom,” she said, stopping beside her father, who was still looking thrown off by my statement. “Dad is taking me to breakfast, and… he’s letting me drive!”
My eyes went wide. “Letting you—your Mercedes?!” I asked, looking at Garrett.
“She has her permit, she’ll be fine.”
I opened my mouth, then immediately closed it again, swallowing a petty, unnecessary reminder that he’d never allowed me behind the wheel of one of his luxury “babies”, even after I’d had his damn baby.
But if he wanted to spoil his baby… it was no concern of mine.
Mads was a good kid. Great grades, good behavior, excellent work ethic on the girls’ rugby team at her school, and when she did have her episodes of teenaged angst, they were never directed at me.
She deserved something to brag about with her friends – some of whom were already pushing their own “G-Wagens” with their fresh new restricted driver’s licenses.
“Just be careful please?” I asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And wear your seatbelt.”
“Yes,” she squealed, practically bubbling with excitement. “I came to ask if I can borrow a pair of sunglasses?” My face must have registered confusion, because she amended, “The Gucci aviators.”
Oh.
Of course.
Why would she need to ask permission for the ones I’d grabbed at Target?
“I’m about to see you in a Mercedes wearing Gucci sunglasses on Instagram in about an hour, aren’t I?” I asked, bringing a sheepish grin to her face.
“Maybe?”
“Get the glasses girl,” I granted, shaking my head. “And they’d better find their way back to my room when you’re done with them.”
“Thank youuu!” she shrieked, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before she raced off. I smiled after her, sending up a silent thank-you of my own for the life I had, of which that little girl was a huge part.
“Okay so let’s talk about this,” Garrett spoke up, reminding me that he was there.
I groaned. “Can we not? There’s really nothing to say. Aren’t you dating some Instagram model or something right now?”
“She’s a sports reporter,” was his dry response, and I raised an eyebrow.
“Is she?”
“Yes, but that’s beside the point.”
My face wrinkled in confusion. “How?”
“We decided to cool things off.”
“She found out you were screwing somebody else, didn’t she?”
“What? No,” he insisted. “That’s really what you think of me?”
“Why would I think anything else?” I asked, then took the last swig of my water. “You’ve been a hoe since the eighties, and my silly ass married you. You really are great in bed though, I’ll give you that,” I told him, with a pat to his arm as I started off.
Instead of letting me go, he grabbed me, pulling me close to him. “I am a changed man, Sloane. Why don’t you give me a chance to show you that?”
“Because I am not your type anymore and you know it. You like twenty-year-old “sports reporters”, remember?”
He sucked his teeth. “Please. I’d pick your fine ass any day, and you know it. Coming in here all sweaty, with these little shorts on.” He leaned in, with his mouth to my ear. “If Mads wasn’t here I’d spread you open right here in this kitchen… lick all this sweat off you,” he told me, squeezing my ass for extra effect.
I laughed as I pushed him off, not wanting him to feel my hard nipples… or smell Nate on me. “I need to take a shower.”
“Is that an invitation?” he asked, already pulling his arm out of his shirt until we heard Madison’s footsteps coming down the stairs. I took that as my opportunity to escape, kissing my daughter goodbye before I headed up the stairs to my bedroom to get myself together.
I still had to get to that meeting.
As strongly as I’d proclaimed myself to not be nervous, my heartbeat was roaring in my ears.
Just be cool, Brooks.
Ha.
Much easier said than done, when I was the only woman in a room full of men whose decision today would determine the next step of my career.
Head coach, assistant head coach, offensive coordinator, offensive assistants, director of pro personnel, director of player personnel, general manager, assistant general manager, president, and owner. All were in attendance, and all were, currently, looking at me.
Waiting.
“So what do you say, Brooks?” Eli Richardson asked me, from the head of the table. “You ready to make Connecticut Kings history?”
With squared shoulders and my head held high, I nodded. “Yes sir.”
My words prompted a wide, warm smile across his face as he stood, rounding the table with his hand extended. “In that case… welcome to the team.”
I stood from my chair and shook his hand – sealing my fate. Of course I’d understood the gravity of this, how completely unheard of it was. But it wasn’t until I clasped hands with the owner of the professional football team that it really hit me.
I’d done it.
I’d become the woman that sixteen-year-old me had daydreamed about in front of the TV. She’d advocated for girls to be allowed on her high school team, and made it happen. She’d done it again a few years later, in college. A few years after that? She took her talents to the semi-pro leagues.
Once I was derailed by injuries, I went back to my college, where they gladly offered a position on their coaching staff. Since then, I’d been Coach Brooks, helping lead team after team to championship titles.
This jump to the NFL though… this was different.
This was new.
I’d always been a fan, from the moment my Daddy sat me on his knee while the game was on, so we both stayed out of Mama’s way, to give her some time to herself. I knew the players, knew the rules, knew the politics of it all.
And now… I was there.
I’d made it.
“Congratulations Brooks,” Kyle Underwood, the offensive coordinator said to me as he and the coaching assistants gathered around. “Heard things about you.”
“All good, I hope,” I told him, accepting the hand he offered.
“Absolutely. You’ve made a notable difference with the wide receivers at BSU, which is something to be proud of. With that said… this isn’t college football. This is the big leagues – arrogant, grown ass men with big egos and bigger salaries. You’re in for a challenge.”
I stood a little straighter. “Well, I’ve never been one to back down from those, so it’s fine by me. All I need to know is when we get
started.”
Underwood nodded. “That’s the type of attitude I like to hear. The draft is this Friday, and we’ll hold rookie camp to get the new recruits acclimated to the pro playbook. Study up between now and then. We’ll be watching.”
I held my tongue, fighting the urge to inform him that telling me to study was unnecessary – I’d be ready when I needed to be, no question. Instead, I nodded, and then after quick introductions and encouraging words from the rest of the room… the meeting was over.
Just like that.
“Ms. Brooks!” Eli called as I stepped out, and I waited for him at the door. “Walk with me for a moment,” he insisted, and I fell into step right beside him.
“What can I do for you?” I asked, biting back a fresh wave of nerves. “You’re not already having second thoughts, are you?”
He laughed. “No, not at all. But you might, after you hear what I have to say.”
I stopped moving, which prompted him to as well. “Please. Just tell me what you have to say.”
“Of course. As you know, there aren’t many women in the NFL, in any capacity. And the number of Black women is even lower.”
I nodded. “Yes, I do. I understand what a big deal my hiring is.”
“Right. And… as such… I’d like to capitalize on it. Cover stories, TV interviews, podcast appearances, the whole nine.”
My eyebrow went up. “So… you want to use me as a PR project for the team.”
“Yes,” he answered, with no hesitation, which I appreciated. It showed he respected me enough to not bullshit me. “My question is, will it be a problem?”
“Not at all,” I shrugged. “You see this face, don’t you? The camera loves me, and I love it back.”
“Sounds like there shouldn’t be any problems then,” Eli laughed. “The PR team will be in touch after the season starts.”
I nodded. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Eli extended his hand again, and I accepted, for one more shake. “Once again Ms. Brooks… welcome to the team.”
He left me there in the hallway, and I took a second to just look around, still in quiet awe that I’d made it this far. There had been – and still would be, inevitably – so much bullshit to contend with, but none of it had defeated me.
I was here.
And nothing could take it away from me.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Sloane Brooks, in the flesh.”
Unbidden, a smile came to my face at the sound of Nate’s voice – a smile I wiped off before anyone, Nate included, could see it. I turned to face him, and instantly got annoyed by how damn good he looked.
It really should be a crime.
“What brings you to my neck of the woods?” he asked, gesturing at the office space around him – the Kings’ organization corporate headquarters.
“Employment. They offered me the job today, and… I accepted.”
“Congratulations,” he said, looking genuinely proud as he extended his hand.
“Thank you,” I told him, returning the gesture. “I’m very excited about it.”
“Excited enough to feel like uh… celebrating?” he still hadn’t released my hand, and took the opportunity to give it a squeeze to make sure I didn’t miss the subtext of his words.
With a little sigh, I pulled my hand from his as I glanced around, making sure we were the only ones in the hall. “Actually… about that… you do know we can’t—”
“Don’t say it. Don’t say it,” Nate insisted, shaking his head. His lips were still curved, and there was a smile in his eyes, so I knew he was just playing.
Mostly.
“We had fun,” I said, getting closer to him, but staying far enough that it wasn’t overtly inappropriate if someone rounded the corner and saw us. “Didn’t we?”
Reluctantly, he nodded. “Yes, we did.”
“Okay. So now I set you free, to use everything I taught you on some pretty young thing, who you’re gonna give a pretty ring, and some pretty babies.”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “You already know how I feel about that.”
“And you already know how I feel about this.”
We’d had this discussion, when I first offered my name for the position. Nate and his sister Cole shared the Director of Player Success position in the Kings’ front office. Since Cole was engaged to one of the players – Jordan “The Flash” Johnson, superstar wide receiver – on the offensive side, she worked with the defense, leaving the offense to Nate.
Which was where our conflict came in.
I didn’t think, for even a moment, that Nate would try to use our relationship to influence the way I coached, or treated the players. What I did worry about was the appearance of impropriety. I had to consider the impact on the team, on the players, on my reputation if I ever wanted to get hired anywhere else, or survive past my first season with the Kings.
Imagine being a woman, getting your dream job in the NFL, only for it all be messed up because you were sleeping with the team owner’s much-younger-than-you son. It was a PR nightmare just waiting to happen, and I could already see the headline.
“Connecticut’s Cougar Coach caught cuddling CEO’s child!”
I’d never live it down.
“We’re going to have a great season,” I told him, patting his hand – a completely underwhelming gesture, but the best I could do considering our current surroundings.
“Indeed.” He gave me a little nod, then turned away to continue towards his destination. “Congratulations again.”
There was an unexpected twinge in my chest as I watched him walk away, missing some of his usual swagger. I knew his feelings for me had developed beyond our little affair, into what had to be a minor crush. Nate was only thirty years old, while my last birthday had put me at forty-three.
He had to know there was no future between us… right?
Instead of prolonging the conversation with a reply, I turned the opposite way, to leave. My day wasn’t done yet – groceries, getting Madison’s uniforms from the dry cleaner. I was still a mother, still had a household to run, despite my renewed status as “Coach Brooks”. Even at college level, coaching had been a strenuous job – mentally, emotionally, and physically, so I could imagine how my workload was about to increase, dealing with a professional team.
Finding balance had been hard enough already. But when it came to fulfilling dreams, sacrifices were part of the game. Everything got pared down, and simplified, so football was what you lived and breathed. Anything else was a distraction, and you had to make hard decisions, deciding what was and wasn’t important enough to give your attention.
You had to choose.
Necessary distractions – family, health – I would just have to work around. Unnecessary? Those had to go, because I wasn’t letting anything keep me from not only doing good at this job, but dominating.
Too bad those unnecessary distractions included Nate.
Two.
2014
“You are wearing the hell out of that dress.”
I glanced to my left, following the sound of the male voice that had interrupted my conversation with Zora. An immediate grin came to my lips at the sight of what may as well have been a babyface – a very handsome one, but still young.
A face I recognized.
“Nathan Richardson. Finally got the balls to approach me in person, huh?”
He smirked, taking my words as an invitation to move closer, close enough to feel his body heat in the crowded room. “Finally got the opportunity. Been had the balls.”
“Is that right?”
“Absolutely.”
As a server went past with a tray of champagne, he flagged her down, grabbing two glasses. One for me, and one for Zora, before he grabbed a third for himself, giving me a chance to really take him in. Tall and deep brown, wide shoulders, strong features. I met Zora’s eyes, long enough for her to shoot me a sly look before she walked off, finding someone else to occupy her t
ime while she left me alone with this… kid.
“Are you even old enough to drink that?” I asked, watching as he took a sip from his glass.
That boyish grin spread over his face again. “Yes ma’am,” he teased. “Twenty-six years old… a grown ass man.”
“Oh that’s adorable that you think so,” I told him, taking my own sip. “Twenty-six is far from grown.”
“Grown enough to make you soak your panties… if you’re wearing any.”
He spoke those words right into my ear, and damn if I didn’t feel it right between my legs. His little fine ass was trouble.
“Last week, you posted a picture of me on social media,” I started, meeting his eyes. “You said you used to have posters of me up on your wall as a teenager… right?”
He ran his tongue over his lips. “Right.”
“What did you used to do in your room at night with the door locked… lotion by the bed…”
He leaned in a little more. “Used to do? You must not have seen the pictures from your Sports Illustrated spread yet?”
I laughed, backing away from him to put some distance between us. “I’ve seen them. I look good, huh?”
“You are bad as hell,” he insisted, getting close again. “I thought I made my admiration perfectly clear.”
“Admiration, or obsession?”
“Does it matter?”
I nodded. “Absolutely. What would it look like for me to have an infatuated, horny teenager sniffing around, hoping for a whiff of my pussy?”
“I told you already Ms. Brooks… I’m far from a teenager.”
“So you say.”
“So you can see for yourself.” A tingle of pleasure raced up my spine as he touched me, slipping a hotel keycard into my hand. “What happens in Vegas… right?”
He walked away after that, leaving me standing there with the wet panties he’d threatened. He hadn’t even been gone long enough for me to process it when Zora came back, grinning.
“That is quite the young tender Ms. Brooks,” she gushed. “What was that about?”
I flashed the keycard at her, knowing she’d recognize the logo since this little shindig was at her family’s hotel. “Something that is not about to happen.”
Pass Interference (Connecticut Kings Book 6) Page 2
