Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Truer words have never been spoken, and that’s when I realize I’m falling for the guy.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
“Yes, well, if I had friends on the West Coast, they’d be sitting here instead of Rick,” Mr. Huntington says.
I have to get out of this office before I do something I regret—like confess my true feelings for Noah to the man who wants me to leave and the other who could break my career in half. I storm out, trying to keep hold of any type of composure, but I only make it to the lobby when black spots cloud my vision and I have to stop.
My hands go to my knees, and my head slumps.
“Mr. Jackson, are you okay?” the receptionist asks.
I wave her off but don’t stand back upright yet. If only I could just … breathe.
“You did the right thing.” Rick’s voice is the thing that brings me out of it.
I stand tall—totally faking any resemblance to confidence. “How could you have put your team on the line like that? It’s clear you don’t want to sign me.” My chest rises and falls, and this guy can’t even give me the respect to look me in the eye.
“You know in movies where the bad guy does the good guy a favor and says ‘Just repay it when the time comes’?”
“Yeah?”
“The time has come for me to pay my debt, but I’m glad you have the morals of a saint. Not many would’ve turned down a multi-million-dollar contract like that.”
“Well, relax. I’m not interested in a deal where I’m sure to keep my bank account stuffed but the bench warmed.”
The Cougars’ tight end bench is deep, but the lack of playing time would’ve been worth staying with Noah if the offer was real, but it’s not. Rick would sign me in name only, and I’d have to give up Noah for it. Then Rick would either cut me or not find any field time for me.
Rick extends his hand for me to shake. “I thought … when he tried to set this up, I thought it was you using your connections to get a contract. I … I’m sorry I misjudged you.” He looks away again, breaking eye contact, and I already know I won’t like what he has to say next. “I’ve already sent the offer to your agent. Noah was adamant you would’ve taken it, so it was sent before we even had the meeting.”
I scoff. “He wasn’t adamant. My agent will encourage me to take New York because it’s more money. Mr. Huntington is trying to push me into a corner.”
“Move to Chicago.”
“How did you know about Chicago?”
“Football’s a small world.”
Yet, he didn’t tell Noah’s dad about it, and I have to wonder why.
“And if you want my advice, don’t take your boyfriend into account. The Warriors are in need of someone like you.”
So is Noah, I can’t help thinking. From the beginning, I’ve been awed by him and his disregard for the shitty things in life. He owns it and his attitude. But that doesn’t mean he’s not hurting on the inside.
All I want to do is make Noah happy, even though he doesn’t want me to do that. And it’ll never happen with his dad breathing down our necks. Little does he know, I’m leaving Noah anyway. That was our deal. It doesn’t matter if I want more. I won’t become another Aron to him. I won’t go back on my word.
Maybe it’s time this thing ended earlier than we planned.
Damn it.
I storm out of Noah’s dad’s offices and hit the call button on my phone.
“Damon King.”
“Emergency meeting. Now.”
“Can you come to OTS?”
“Nope. But you can meet me at a bar.”
“It’s the middle of the day. Does this have anything to do with the offer from the Cougars?”
My long strides stop in the middle of the street. “You’ve already seen it.”
“It’s a great offer. We’re going to urge you to take it.”
“No fucking way am I touching that contract.”
“Matt, what aren’t you telling me? How did you know about the contract?”
“Come meet me.”
“Do not walk into a bar in the middle of the day. The tabloids will go crazy. Where are you?”
I glance around at my surroundings, still unfamiliar with this city. “Midtown.”
“There’s an Italian restaurant two blocks away from OTS. Walk there, get a table, and order a drink. And some lunch. I’m on my way.”
Damon finds me with two scotches under my belt and an untouched chicken salad in front of me.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“I’m taking the Warriors’ deal.”
He pauses. “New York is more money. Like a shit ton more money.”
“It’s also more competition for field time. The Warriors need me. The Cougars don’t.”
“That’s a valid argument, but the money more than makes up for it, so that’s not why you’re saying no to this offer. Did something happen with Noah? Are you fighting or—”