The Hearts We Break (The Alphaletes Book 3), page 9
“I mean, him and the rest of the team.”
“What?”
“Slate, man, open your eyes,” he says as he points to a group of at least six guys who are all watching Scar bend over the bench to grab something out of her bag.
Something inside has me ready to punch every single motherfucker out just for looking at her, while the other part of me wants to just scoop her up and get her the fuck out of here so no one can even try to look at her.
“Since when?” I snap as I gesture towards the dead men walking.
“Uh, since always,” Seb says with a raised brow. “She’s a gorgeous woman on an NFL team’s staff, who literally gets paid to put her hands on these horny fuckers’ bodies.”
“You make her sound like a goddamn prostitute,” I balk.
“Fuck, no,” Seb says with a shake of his head. “But everyone knows that apart from a small handful of us, no man would pass up an opportunity with Scarlett.”
I go to ask him more, why he never told me any of this, why I never saw it for myself, when he keeps talking.
“But Andrews? He’s had his eye on her from the moment she stepped through those doors. I wouldn’t put it past him to find out he got hurt on purpose just to spend one on one time with her. Dude is gone over her.”
“I don’t like that,” I scowl as I continue glaring at Andrews.
“Of course you don’t,” Seb scoffs.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’ve had Scarlett’s sole attention your entire life. You’re used to it, so when you see someone coming in and taking some of that, it pisses you off. You’re like a toddler learning how to share toys for the first time.”
“She’s not a toy, Seb,” I snap.
“It’s a simile, dumbass. Point is, women her age have had two, three, maybe even four serious boyfriends by now. Has she had even one?”
I pause at that before I shake my head slowly.
He shrugs. “She’s probably tired of being single, and Andrews is a nice enough guy. He really likes her, don’t sweat it. He’ll treat her right, otherwise, I’ll help you kick the shit out of him. Good?”
“I guess,” I mutter as Seb jogs off.
My eyes flick over to Scar and see that she is watching Andrews with a small smirk. I want to snap at her, ask her what the fuck she is doing smiling at another man when less than twenty four hours ago her lips were on mine, my tongue in her mouth. I almost do too as I feel my body take a step before I pause. Who was it again that stopped it all, though? Is this her way of punishing me? No. Scar doesn’t play mind games like that. If she’s into him, it’s because she likes him, at least mostly. For some reason, that thought makes me even angrier. I catch the moment Andrews sees her watching him because a wide smile spreads across his face before he winks at her and slips on his helmet.
I don’t fucking like this.
Slater
“Hike!” Smith calls out as the play begins.
Practice has been good. Actually, better than good. It’s turned out way better than I could have expected. I was fucking nervous that, despite the fact I’ve been able to run for weeks with no pain, the moment I suited up, stepped onto the turf for my coaches and team to see, that my body would fail me.
Thankfully, the first ball Smith tossed to me, my legs carried me the distance, my hands reached out at just the right time, and I was running the ball thirty-five yards. I could tell that when Burns tackled me, he was going easy on me. I appreciated him not trying to lay me the fuck out with my knee freshly recovered, but I can’t have my guys going easy. Especially not if we want to make it further than we did last season. I told him and the rest of our defense that, and from there, it was on.
I’m not at the level I was last season, but the first practice is always about working out the bugs. We’ve all been off for months, and even though we keep up a rigorous workout and nutrition schedule in the off-season, it isn’t the same as playing six days a week for months.
Though I don’t have quite the speed that I did before, I did pretty fucking good today. I’ve gained my scrimmage team some solid yardage and even grabbed an interception. Technically, it was an interception from my own team, since I snagged the ball that was intended for Andrews. He gave me a pissy look, but he knew better than to say anything about it. He’s still considered a rook, and though he is talented, he still knows his place.
I dip past Burns, though I feel him on my ass, ready to stay on me should Smith decide to throw the ball my way. Deciding to test my knee a bit, I jerk to the left and am thankful when I only feel a small twinge as I dodge the beefy defenseman beside me before I glance behind me towards Smith. His eyes quickly scan over his options before I see him land on Andrews.
Smith winds back his arm and delivers a bullet straight in the pathway of Andrews. It’s a beautiful pass, probably would be a nice clean catch, if I didn’t high tail it to snag it from him first. My fingers graze against the leather ball before I tuck it close to my body and run like hell.
When my feet cross over that end zone line, a euphoric feeling washes over me. The same feeling I get when I score a touchdown in an actual game. It’s a high I wish I never had to come down for, a high few ever feel but everyone wants.
A few of the guys around me clap my back in congrats but one offensive player in particular looks fucking pissed. Our wide receiver rips off his helmet as he comes barreling towards me. To my surprise, he doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of me. His fists grip the fabric of my practice jersey as he rams his chest into mine.
“What the fuck, Slater?” he snarls.
I push him off me as I roll my eyes and toss the football to the ground. I’m walking away from the little punk when Coach blows his whistle and starts making his way over to me.
“Santos! What the hell was that?”
“A touchdown, Coach,” I say dryly.
“Don’t be a fucking smartass. Why in the hell have you deliberately stolen a ball from your own teammate twice in one goddamn practice?”
I don’t know what he expects me to say or what he wants to hear, so I stay silent as he rages.
“You want to be a big man, prove that you still got it? This ain’t my first rodeo, Santos. Selfish bullshit like that will get you benched faster than you can blink. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I say, knowing there isn’t anything I could say right now to pacify him.
He must know I’m not at all sorry because he just grumbles something under his breath and stomps off towards the other coaches.
“We’re done for the day!” Aberton snaps. “See you all tomorrow.”
Seb makes his way over to me, a raised eyebrow pointed towards me as we start walking to the locker rooms.
“Well you certainly made a scene for your first practice back.”
“I wasn’t trying to make a scene. I just knew I was faster than that slow motherfucker,” I shrug as I begin pulling off my practice gear.
“Right. And you feeling the need to prove yourself doesn’t have anything to do with the dick move you pulled not once but twice?” Seb asks with a deadpan look.
I don’t say anything as I finish getting changed into my street clothes. Unfortunately, Seb gets changed just as quickly as I do and follows me out of the locker room and into the hallway.
“I’m serious, man. I get it. You need to show that you haven’t lost it, and you did. You didn’t have to do Andrews dirty like that just to prove your point.”
I think Seb is still talking. Unfortunately, all I can focus on is the fact that Andrews is talking to Scar, again. He’s crowding her against the hallway, a hungry smile spread across his douchebag face and the part that pisses me off the most? She’s smiling up at him like she likes his attention, like she likes him invading her space.
“Huh, maybe I was wrong,” Seb says, shaking me from my thoughts as I turn to face him.
“What?”
“Maybe you didn’t fuck Andrews over to prove that you hadn’t lost your touch. Maybe you were trying to make sure that you didn’t lose something else.”
I narrow my eyes at Seb before shaking my head and crossing the distance across the hall.
“Hey, Scar. You ready?”
Andrews gives me an irritated glare and opens his mouth like he’s about to start talking shit. Oh, I fucking wish he would. Last player that went to blows with another was Mikey and our old QB two seasons ago. Though Chad deserved it, Mikey was suspended for it. I know the risks for punching Andrews’ stupid fucking face. For some reason, the consequences don’t look too bad compared to the satisfying feeling I know I’d have at putting him in his place.
Before he can say whatever stupid shit he is about to spit, Scar looks at me and cocks her head to the side as her brows furrow.
“Are we going somewhere?”
I nod. “Let’s go grab some dinner.”
She nods her agreement before giving Andrews an apologetic smile.
“Apparently even off the field, he’s impatient,” she says, obviously throwing a dig at my behavior at practice today.
Andrews snorts at that and nods. “No shit. I’ll text you.”
“Okay,” she says as he turns and walks into the locker room.
We walk over to my car before I unlock it and open the door for her. We can always make our way back here once we are done to grab her car.
When I fire up the car, I only make it to the first stoplight before she speaks.
“So, what the hell was up with the stuff you pulled today?”
I flick my eyes to her before turning back to face the road and shrugging.
“Just being aggressive.”
“That’s code for being a jerk, right?”
I let out a dry laugh as I run a hand through my hair and nod.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
I can feel her eyes on me but I’m smart enough not to look. Nothing good comes from me looking into Scar’s eyes. She’s either going to see right through me or the thoughts I’ve been trying like hell to bury lately are going to flare to life, and I’ll probably do something stupid. Like devour her fucking whole and not stop this time.
No, the road in front of me is the safest place to keep my eyes.
“So are you just going to ignore me?” she asks impatiently.
“Trying to,” I tease.
She lets out a short huff before settling back into her seat. I cruise the familiar streets before pulling up to one of Scar’s favorite food spots in the city.
“Dicks? You trying to butter me up for something?” she smiles as she slips out of the car and goes to stand in line at the drive-in.
I’ve never been a huge fan of the place. I mean, it’s nothing special. Just some basic burgers pre-assembled and french fries. But I’m not sure you can call yourself a true Seattleite if you haven’t at least tried Dick’s Drive-In once.
“You better not be getting anything for yourself,” she says with a raised brow.
I roll my eyes as we step up to the counter.
“I’ve got my meal prep at home. I just couldn’t resist the temptation of watching you stuff your face with dollar burgers.”
“They’re good,” she defends as she places her order.
Chuckling, I slide some cash to the teenager working the register before he hands Scar her grease bag. We head back to my car, and she smiles happily as she pops the first fry into her mouth. I can’t help but smile at her. I swear she is so fucking easy to please.
“What?” she asks as she finishes chewing her bite.
I scoff as I shake my head. “The way you light up over a five-dollar dinner is just wild sometimes.”
“Hey, this is the closest I’ve gotten to any kind of dick in a while, let me enjoy it.”
A sarcastic chuckle escapes me before I can stop it.
“Yeah, don’t think that will be the case for much longer,” I mumble.
“What?” she asks with furrowed brows.
I shrug casually, though a knot begins forming inside my chest that makes me feel anything but casual.
“Just saying, Andrews seems to have his eyes on you.”
She swallows another bite before nodding.
“We are actually going out this weekend.”
“I heard,” I clip out shortly.
Scar frowns as she sets her bag on the ground.
“Do you not want me to go out with him?”
For a moment, I’m not sure what to say. What do I say to that? Fuck, of course I don’t want her to go out with the guy. First off, out of all the guys on the team he is probably the least compatible for Scar. He’s young, flashy with his money, and pretty fucking full of himself, and that’s coming from me. He’s a nice enough guy but definitely not who I would pick for Scar. Then again, who would I pick for Scar? No one fucking deserves her. She’s too perfect for anyone and everyone.
Even me.
“Just want you to be careful is all,” I shrug. “If he breaks your heart, I’ll have to beat his ass.”
Scar scoffs before smiling.
“Please, you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“For you, I would.”
Her smile slowly drops until she is just staring at me, her eyes flicking over my face quickly as if she were looking for something. I’m tempted to ask her what it is, but she must not find it because her eyes drop back down to her food as she continues eating wordlessly.
“Why him?” I ask after a few moments.
She turns to her head as if she were considering the question as she finishes her bite.
“I don’t know. He’s the first guy to ask in a while, I guess.”
I frown at that, causing her to throw her hands up.
“I know, that sounds bad. I don’t mean it like that. I just mean, before I wasn’t really in a good mental place for dating or relationships, so I always turned guys down. Recently I’ve realized though, I’m not getting any younger and me shutting every guy down before I can even learn their middle name isn’t helping me any. One day, I want to get married, have children, all of that, you know? I want the kind of love that my parents had, the kind that yours do. I want to be the reason someone can’t breathe yet be the same reason their heart beats.”
She looks away from me quickly, her eyes on the floorboard as her cheeks begin to flame.
“Corny, I know,” she whispers with a self-deprecating laugh.
I shake my head as I reach over and place my hand over hers.
“Not at all. You deserve that kind of love, Bubbles. Any man would be lucky to make you their whole world.”
Her eyes peek up to watch me as she turns her head. “You mean that?”
Swallowing over my slowly tightening throat I nod.
“I do.”
A sweet smile slips across her face as she nods.
“I love you, Slate.”
My chest tightens at the soft lilt of her voice, or maybe it was her words. Either way, I squeeze her hand a little tighter as I give her the best smile I can muster as I nod.
“Love you too, Bubbles.”
Slater
Scar’s date is tonight. I don’t know why I can’t get that thought out of my head. I called her this afternoon, to see if she wanted to hang out or something when she reminded me that she couldn’t because she had her date.
I didn’t forget, just hoped she’d pick hanging out with me over Andrews, I guess. It sounds selfish and maybe even a little spoiled, but for twenty years, it’s always been Scar and me. We’ve done everything together. She was always there for me and was always down to do whatever I had in mind.
Now that I really think about it, though, how much must that have sucked? Not that Scar is the type to complain because she wouldn’t ever. But what has our friendship really been like for her? Hanging back to watch me chase tail, or more recently, my wife? Then after I was done with them, we would hang out and watch whatever I threw on or go wherever I pointed my car.
She has always been down for anything that I just assumed she was this laid back, easy going woman. What if that isn’t the case, though? What if she did all of that just to appease me? A sickening feeling begins settling inside my stomach at the thought of that. I don’t like that thought at all.
Tipping back my whiskey, I take a large sip before setting it back down onto the bar top. I don’t usually like to go out, especially downtown. It’s usually too crowded, not enough security, and way too many Crusader fans that want to talk my ear off about football. Not that I don’t love them or what I do, but sometimes, I just want some quiet.
Seb and I found this place just on the outskirts last year. They never really took off in a big tourist way, but since that’s the case, a lot of local celebrities have taken a liking to it, and it’s become almost an unofficial hangout of ours.
I called Seb to see if he wanted to come grab a drink tonight, but he’s having a family night with Erica and the kids. Obviously, Mikey and Trev aren’t options since they both live out of state. I’m not really too close with any of the other guys on the team, and my best friend is currently on a date. That only left one person that I knew I could call and would show up for a drink, no questions asked.
“Slaterrr! What’s up, man?” Ezra calls out across the bar as he makes his way over to me and claps my back.
“Not much. Glad you weren’t busy. We haven’t hung out in forever.”
“Yeah, well that’s what happens when you become a superstar and forget all the little people,” he laughs as he flags down the bartender and orders a beer.
I frown at that and turn to him. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”
He smiles and shakes his head.
“Nah, just fucking with you. We are all busy. Aaron and I are slowly trying to take the reins from Dad so he can actually retire one day. You’ve got your career. Shit. The only one of us who never stopped seeing you regularly is Scarlett.”
“Yeah, don’t know where I’d be without her.”
Ezra nods as he takes a sip of his drink.
“So, what’s new with you? Besides work stuff?” I ask.
