Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2)

by Christina C Jones

  She nodded. “So am I. I promise.”

  I lifted an eyebrow, stepping closer to draw her against me. “Wow. You promise to talk?”

  “You don’t have to sound that surprised,” she scolded. “I said I would talk, and I mean it. Later.”

  “Are you kicking me out of your room?”

  She smiled.

  “Yes. We have to get on that plane, remember?”

  “I would have punched his ass too.”

  I chuckled at my sister’s angry words as they blared from the speaker on my phone. They echoed through the bathroom, providing background noise for my preparations. It was time to face the music – or rather, the press – after my altercation with Samuels the night before.

  Because I hadn’t been fully briefed yet on what was happening, I was avoiding social media and dodging phone calls. Most phone calls, that was. One of the very few people I was cool with talking to right now was my sister.

  “Seriously,” she continued, as I moved into the bedroom, taking the phone with me. “As if I’d ever, ever let a man like him do such a thing to me. He dresses like a math teacher off the field, and has he seen somebody about those teeth? Looks like a yuck-bomb went off in his mouth. I thought money was supposed to make you look better.”

  She went on and on about the ills of Bobby Samuels, sprinkling other random nuggets of information into her rant as I dressed in the suit Nicki had brought from Connecticut for me. According to Jess, a poll on SportsOne network said my punch was “justified”, per the over four million people who’d voted. Bobby had been “memed” and mocked all over social media, and a video of the fight, set to I Ain’t Neva Scared had gone viral. Sports anchors and news people were divided nearly right down the middle, one side in condemnation, the other side in support of me.

  “Anyway though, how are you?” Jess asked, real concern filling her voice. “My phone has been going nuts, with people asking for a comment and all of that. It has to be like ten times worse for you.

  I shrugged, unable to help myself from grinning in the mirror as I adjusted my tie. “I’m not really worried about this shit, baby girl.”

  And that was true. If history was any indication, I would have to pay a fine, and maybe face a suspension. I was way too giddy about what had transpired between me and Nicki to let either of those options bring me down. I’d punched Samuels, I wasn’t sorry, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I owned my actions, and I’d take my licks for them if I had to, but I was ready - anxious, really – to get into the next thing.

  “Have you talked to Daddy?”

  Shit.

  Now that would bring down my mood.

  “Nah,” I answered, leaving out the fact that he’d left a voicemail I didn’t bother listening to. I just deleted the shit, instead of giving him the satisfaction of direct access to criticize me.

  A knock on the door pulled my attention away from the phone.

  “Jordan, are you ready?” Nicki’s voice was clear, and strong, carrying no evidence that we’d been up until the early hours of the morning, then gotten up to get at each other again.

  “Is that Cole?” Jess asked, sounding a little too interested. “I thought you said you were in your hotel room?”

  “I am in my hotel room,” I told Jess, then yelled, “Almost!” out to Nicki.

  “Are you in the room with her?!”

  Shit.

  Jess was adding a little too excited to her little too interested.

  “Chill, please.”

  “Oh my God, so you’re getting back together?!”

  I shook my head as I slipped my feet into my shoes. “Again, chill. I didn’t say all that.”

  “But your lack of answer implies it. What took you so long? Cole is fine, successful, she dresses her ass off – oooh, does she need an outfit for anything?! A Jessmyn Johnson original would totally magnify her flyness. Like, flyness squared. Like, flyness on a whole ‘nother—”

  “Bye Jess.”

  “Wait! Does she have a dress for the Kings’ “Royal Ball” event at the end of the month yet?!”

  “Bye Jess,” I repeated, picking the phone up from where I’d left it on the bed.

  “Seriously, wait!”

  My finger hovered over the button to end the call. “What is it baby girl? I’ve gotta get out of here.”

  “Thank you for defending my honor like that. I hope you don’t get in too much trouble.”

  “Don’t sweat it. I’ll be fine.”

  She sighed into the phone. “Yeah, but still. Thank you. And one more thing…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Cole and Jordan, sitting in the tree. K-I-S-S-I—”

  I laughed as I pressed the button to disconnect the call, then slipped the phone into my pocket. I found Nicki standing frozen in the living room, nothing moving except her fingers over the screen of her cell phone. She looked polished, in her slim gray pants, crisp white shirt, and blazer. Her hair was down, but pinned to one side so that it covered the marks I’d left on her neck. Big difference from how she’d looked when I left her room in the suite.

  She must have felt me watching her, because she looked up, and her eyes went wide. Her gaze raked over me, and she sucked in a breath before she shook her head, running her fingers through her hair as she moved into the kitchen.

  “You packed up your bag, right? Didn’t leave anything important?”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “The bag is right here in my hand. You just looked at me, Cole.”

  “Right. Well we should probably get moving. Thirty minutes to get to the hangar. The team sent the jet, so we can avoid the airport.”

  “Understood.” I nodded, but didn’t follow her to the door. “How do I look?” I asked.

  She glanced back from where she was standing at the counter, digging through her purse. “You know you look good.”

  “So that’s why you’re so flustered?” I teased, dropping the bag to approach her. Before she could duck away, I had my arms around her waist, pulling her back against me. She whined as I pressed my lips to her neck.

  “Jordan, please,” she whimpered, but made no move to get away as I sucked her skin.

  “Please what?” I asked, cupping her between the legs.

  She didn’t get a chance to answer.

  A knock sounded at the door, and she suddenly sprang away from me, smoothing her clothes and hair. We both let out deep breaths, but hers was shaky as she moved to the door without looking back at me.

  Shaking my head, I picked up my bag and put it on the counter as I ran through a mental check of what all I had with me, and if I’d put it in my bag or not.

  “Dadd—I mean, Eli?! What are you doing here?”

  If it wasn’t for me knowing what had just been happening, I wouldn’t have been able to tell that she was nervous. Her voice was calm and professional – except for that moment when she first opened the door, she didn’t even seem surprised to see him.

  She stepped back so Eli could enter. Mentally, I checked myself. There was no way he’d just randomly shown up in New Orleans to see Nicki. He was here for me.

  “Well, we had to get the jet down here anyway, and you know I have a soft spot in my heart for this city. Figured I’d make the trip down. Have a little talk with Mr. Johnson.”

  Shit.

  I knew this was about the fight, but why did I feel like he’d caught me on somebody’s couch with his daughter?

  Elijah Richardson was a tall man – damn near my height, and just as wide. He was close to his NFL shape. If he decided to kick my ass– I definitely would want to, if I owned a team and one of my players had done what I just spent the night doing to his daughter– I might actually have a slight problem.

  But Eli wasn’t like that – or hadn’t been. He’d been thrilled about me and Nicki together back then. Heartbroken when we broke up, and thrilled all over again when I joined the Kings. That was then, though. And this was now.

  Who knew if things were different?
>
  “Are you flying back with us?” Nicki asked, sounding a bit too happy at the prospect. This was just the excuse she needed to avoid a conversation with me.

  Eli nodded. “That’s the plan.”

  “Well let’s go then!”

  I suppressed a smile.

  She was happy as hell to get a reprieve from the talk we needed to have, and I was anxious as hell about the one I was about to have with her father.

  “I would have punched his ass too,” Eli said conspiratorially, leaning toward me from his seat across from me on the jet. Nicki was further up, taking phone call after phone call while I listened to her father. “That’s just between me and you though.”

  I nodded, and looked right at him, so he wouldn’t think I wasn’t paying attention. “Of course.”

  “You’re a good kid, Jordan. You know I watch you guys, right? You, Bailey, Sanchez… every one of you that I see myself mirrored in, in some way. And I’m watching you make your mistakes, watching you learn and grow from them. Sanchez still has a lot of time. Bailey turned his shit around, and look where he is now. But you… I have to admit I was worried about you, son.”

  I grinned at the term of endearment. Eli called everybody on the team “son”, but I’d gotten that title back when we met through Nicki.

  “The women, the partying… the fighting… not a good look for someone who wants to have a long career in football. You know as well as I do, the world has an obsession with imaginary morals in the NFL, while you’re worshipped for the same sins. But I’m here to tell you – it’s temporary. You only get respected for that for a little while. Eventually you have start getting them to talk about the good things you want associated with your name.”

  “I understand that, sir.”

  Eli chuckled. “I know you do. Chloe McKenna only works with people who are serious about what they’re doing. Have you talked to her about this yet?”

  “No sir. We’re supposed to talk when I get back to Connecticut, before the press conference.”

  “Good,” Eli nodded. “That means she’s working. If she’d called you already, it would be to fire you. She’s going to handle the media for you, and you’ll be just fine.”

  I cringed. “That’s the media. What about the NFL?”

  Eli clasped his hands together, giving a hard sigh as he sat back. “Well, you did fight a man on live TV, well after the game was over. As justified as many of us feel like you are, we can’t let it go unchecked. I’ve gotten enough flack for “favoritism” as it is.”

  “So what I am I looking at here?”

  “A fine. And a one game suspension.”

  “Suspension?” I said as I jumped up, louder than intended, causing Nicki to glance up and narrow her eyes at me from her seat. I didn’t know why I was surprised – I had somewhat expected it. But after the way the conversation seemed to be going, it caught me off guard.

  “Yes.” Eli shook his head as I sat down. “We can’t set the precedent that this is okay. One game, and then you’re back on the field. Okay?”

  Not like I have a choice.

  I shrugged. “Gotta accept the repercussions of my actions.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.”

  “Excuse me, guys?” We looked up to see Nicki standing over us, phone in her hand. “Whenever you’re done, I need to run through a few talking points with Jordan, just so that you’re already briefed when you see Chloe. Is that okay?”

  I made sure to make eye contact with her before I answered. “Anything you need.”

  Her eyes bored into mine for a second before she averted her gaze, nodding at her father before she turned to go back to her seat.

  “You know she looks out for you, right?” Eli asked, his words spoken deliberately, as if he was being careful of the ones he chose. “Advocates for you, won’t let anybody speak ill of you when she’s around. Very protective.”

  I swallowed hard as I scanned his face, searching for the hidden question in his words. “Yeah… Nicole is very good at her job.”

  Eli grinned. “Of course. Good at her job.” He was quiet for several moments, then said, “You know, I really hate that you kids never did work out your differences back in college. Doesn’t always work out though, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Ah, well,” Eli shrugged. “I guess I should just be happy now that you two are able to maintain professionalism while working together in such a close manner. Don’t have to worry about any trouble.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Eli… are you warning me to stay away from your daughter?”

  Eli’s head jerked back, in genuine surprise. “Should I be?”

  “No sir, not at all,” I said, with confidence. If things went my way, I wouldn’t be a regret in Nicki’s life. I’d be a high point, and there wasn’t any need to warn against that.

  “How is Jordan feeling about being free after his arrest in New Orleans, after the Kings’ game against the Saints?”

  Chloe gave what I was quickly learning to be her signature smirk. “He’s feeling like anyone would – free. Next question? You, right there. Gray jacket.”

  “Jordan Johnson has a long history of fighting, on and off the field, enough that it’s considered normal behavior for him. Is the NFL really the place for a person with a propensity towards violence?”

  “Are you seriously asking me if a sport where men run around in protective armor and slam each other to the ground for custody of the inflated flesh of an animal is a place for a “violent” person? You can’t be. Next question, blue sweater.”

  “Some people are saying that—”

  “Is it “some people”, or is it you?”

  The man asking the question turned almost as red as his hair as he sputtered. “W-well, me-me, I guess.”

  “Then be clear. What is your query?”

  “Does Jordan’s release from jail, and the dropping of all charges, send the message that professional athletes are above the law?”

  “Absolutely not. Jordan Johnson and the Connecticut Kings have the utmost respect for the law and its officers and agencies, but NOPD was out of bounds with this arrest. Adrenaline and emotions were high, directly after a football game. The players have argued, fought, everything, because it is considered a normal part of the event, and they are still on the field. We break them up, we give them a fine, and we move on. No one is arrested. These things are handled efficiently by the NFL. There was no need for NOPD to get involved.”

  “So why do you think they did?”

  “No comment, next question. Moustache, what’s your question?”

  I just stood back, not saying anything while Chloe fielded questions from the reporters. She was my publicist – she had the answers, and it was a unanimous decision that they were best delivered by her.

  It saved me from potentially cursing somebody out.

  Margo and Nicki were off to the side, observing. I forced myself not to look in their direction, even though I was curious. The moment Nicki and I walked into the room together for a briefing, Margo had looked back and forth between us, and then let her mouth spread into a grin that hadn’t left her face.

  How much does she know?

  What, if anything, had Nicki said to her friends about me? Would they be on my side, or would they lead her away from rekindling something with me? I was much more interested in that than this press conference.

  “If I can ask a question directly of Jordan, was it a deliberate decision to have all of your interests handed over to a team of women? Your new manager and publicist, your liaison with the front office of the Kings. All women. What’s the story behind that?”

  “Why does there have to be a story behind it?” I said, forgetting to look to Chloe for confirmation before I spoke. “There’s no deep, profound meaning to it. The people around me know their sh—stuff. Bottom line. Next question?”

  “Outside of your criminal charges, which have since been dropped, what repercussions are you fa
cing for your actions at last night’s game?”

  “I have to pay a fine, and unfortunately, I won’t be playing in our next game.”

  “Last night was a tough game, with your team still being in transition. Trent Bailey just came back to the starting line-up, and now you’re out for the next game. Do you feel like you’re letting your team down?”

  That question hit me right in the gut. I swallowed hard for a second, thinking about how it felt for me when Trent got himself locked up. It wasn’t even that I was mad at him about the shit, but I was disappointed, and honestly scared about what that meant for the team, and for me. And now, I’d lived what it meant. The strain to fill the void left by a vital teammate, the profound disappointment of loss after loss, the constant worry, wondering what’s going to happen…

  It was tough.

  “Yes,” I said, with a slow nod. “I do feel like I’m letting them down. I allowed myself to take the situation further than it needed to go, and I shouldn’t have. I should have been better. I will be better. The Kings, and our fans, deserve that.”

  “The Kings have a bye this week, and you’re suspended for the game after that. What are you going to do with your time off?”

  “I’m not going to consider it time off. We still have practice, there are still weights to be lifted, games to review. I’m always thinking about how I can improve myself, and this time won’t be any different. November sixth, the Rams better be ready for me, cause I plan on reminding the world why they call me The Flash when I hit the field again. Watch out.”

  “And on that particular note,” Chloe said, taking over, “That’s all for today’s press conference. Thank you.”

  Chloe gently nudged me away from the podium and I followed her directive to leave the stage. Nicki was waiting, but Margo was already on the phone, giving me a thumbs up as I approached.

  “You did great,” Nicki said carefully, in her “professional” voice. “I don’t think we’ll have any problem getting this to blow over smoothly.”

  I moved closer to her – closer than I probably should, but we were away from view of anyone except security and staff. “Thank you. Do I get a little reward or something?” I asked, gently tugging a tendril of her hair.