“Yeah, when she rolled out of my bed this morning.” If Linc had any interest in Alexa, I needed to shut that shit down right now. She was mine.
“Bastard,” he muttered. “It’s like some kind of gift. No matter who the woman is she’s going to end up right where you want her.”
I grinned, thinking of all the places Alexa had been in my bed. Hot as shit didn’t begin to describe her perfect ass and tits.
“You gotta tell me how that happened.”
Yeah, I was the kind of guy who fucked and told, especially if there was competition. I was a territorial bastard.
“I saw her after the concert. We started talking. I gave her my number and she came over.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Simple as that.”
“Simple as that? She’s the damn sweetheart of country music. And you fucked her.” He groaned. “I should have gone with you.”
“Why? So you could have had a chance?”
I laughed so hard I snorted.
“It could happen.” Linc was pissed.
“I only need to say two words: Laney Peppercorn.”
“Shit. Not Laney again.” He turned into the Warrior corporate office drive.
“What? You hate that she chose the little brother over the big brother for prom. You can’t stand it,” I teased. I was feeling extra punchy this morning. It was the combination of sleep deprivation, incredible sex, and being pissed at management.
“You always bring up Laney fucking Peppercorn. You know she’s married now and has three kids, Luke.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So. She’s not part of this equation. Always with the Laney Peppercorn thing. Damn it.”
He threw the gear in park and stared ahead at the offices attached to the far end of the stadium. The concrete was stained with black streaks. I heard him mutter Laney’s name again. I liked to rile him up about her. Every once in a while I’d throw in she was the first girl I’d ever slept with, but that just rubbed salt in the wound. He’d been hung up on her for his entire senior year and never had the balls to ask her out.
That wasn’t me. I’d always had balls too big for my own good. Fuck. I got what I wanted because I went after it. In high school it was Laney Peppercorn. Last night it was Alexa Wilde. God, she was worth every second of missed sleep.
Linc reached for his briefcase. I guessed he thought it made him look more official—less like my brother, and more like the manager of the AFA’s highest-rated quarterback.
I eyed the corporate offices.
Somewhere in there, Charlie was waiting for us. Waiting to save my career with a life-altering public relations campaign. I wanted to punch something just thinking about it. He didn’t know me. He didn’t know how I lived my life. And I’d be willing to put a thousand grand on the table when we walked in, betting he didn’t know a fucking thing about football.
“Let’s get this over with,” I grumbled.
We both stepped from the truck and made our way to the McCade offices.
“Just let me do the talking,” Linc advised. “Don’t piss this guy off in the first five minutes.”
“This is fucking bullshit.” I tapped the elevator button.
“Yeah, but it’s the bullshit I handle, so keep your mouth shut. This is what you pay me to do.”
We stepped inside the elevator and counted the numbers to the top floor. I didn’t know if McCade thought he could actually impress someone in this shithole. Scheduling the meeting here was a statement. I got the message. This was a corporate issue. Not something for the locker room or the field. There weren’t enough touchdowns I could throw to get me out of the meeting. This was legal and human resources. This was the bastard’s only way to muscle me into anything.
The doors retracted and we walked down the hall to the conference room. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The corridor had the same effect as walking down a school hallway.
“I didn’t get that girl pregnant,” I clenched my teeth. If all hell broke loose when we walked in that room, Linc needed to know why. McCade might think he could push me around, but I wasn’t taking the fall for something I didn’t do.
Fatherhood wasn’t going down on my list of sins.