So when I heard the doorbell ring, I immediately went to the upstairs front window to see who was at the door, smart enough to send Posey down instead of the boys.
I’d had to hold Dallas back from bounding down the fucking stairs like the hormonal bull he was.
Not that I’m gonna be able to keep them away once Posey and I head home, but…never hurts to give them the warning and a stern talking-to.
I, of all people, have seen plenty of my friends and teammates get tied to a calculating woman with their sights set on being rich and living a cushy lifestyle, funded by her football-playing husband or boyfriend.
“Those girls aren’t going to give up now that they’ve started sniffing around,”I inform my brothers what they already know. It’s not like they were born yesterday. They watched our pops cheat on our mom with groupies and gold diggers, eager to become the next Mrs. Colter—thinking maybe he’d leave Mama if the pussy was good enough.
It wasn’t.
Not when he’d have to give up half of his football dynasty. No doubt in my mind that Pops would have had way more mistresses than he’d had if he hadn’t had to pay Mama fifty percent.
Well.
I wasn’t about to live the same life, always worrying about the press following me into hotel rooms, or women coming forward claiming to be pregnant with my child—and I’d be damned if I’d allow my brothers to follow that path, either.
Fuck that.
“We don’t know for sure they came over to…you know. Hit on your brothers.”Posey naïvely had tried to make light of it, gulping down her statement with a lump in her throat.
“You can’t even say it with conviction.”I’d laughed.
“Listen, we can’t be judging them because they came over wearing swimsuits.”She glanced around the room.“Maybe they were having a car wash. We don’t know.”
“They weren’t having a car wash. It ain’t warm enough for that, and besides, what was it they said they needed?”I reminded her with my brows raised.
“Um. They didn’t know how to connect the garden hose because they, um, wanted to water their lawn.”
Water their lawn, my ass.
It’s sweet that she wants to see the good in people, but the truth is—I often don’t.
Not anymore.
I drive through the night, an hour remaining to get home, only the sound of my audiobook playing to keep me company. Posey dozed off shortly after we said our goodbyes and climbed back into the truck. My brothers made a big show of hugging and slapping me on the back.
Once I’m back in Texas, I’ll be so fucking far away but guess the plane rides will be worth it.
“Promise I’ll come watch if you make it to the Rose Bowl.”
“Deal.”Dallas had thrust out his hand.“Promise I’ll make it if you make it to the Super Bowl.”
“Deal.”
Gonna miss those little bastards, but at least I’ll get to watch them on television. Zoom and shit when we have the time.
I glance over at Posey, softly snoring away, head against the window, mouth falling open from time to time.
Not that I’m staring or anything.
Thirty more minutes go by.
Then fifteen.
Then another fifteen until I’m pulling into her driveway and unbuckling my seat belt.
She lifts her head off the window, rubbing her temple.