Page 14 of Broken Saint

“Fucking right,” Kane says proudly. “She can play with them whenever she wants to.”

“How’s it going with the season starting?” Luca asks, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

“It’s tough,” Kane confesses. “Last year was hard with a newborn, but I didn’t know any better. Having that time off with them, hanging with my boy...” He shakes his head, a sappy smile playing on his lips. “It was amazing. Watching him grow, learn.” Lifting his hand, he rubs at his chest as if thoughts of his son make his heart ache.

As someone who doesn’t want a serious connection to anyone, it’s a bizarre concept to understand.

He’s the first one of our group to have a kid. Sure, there are older players on the team who have families—a couple of them have taken Kane under their wing, offering up advice from their years of experience. Luca wants it; I can see it in his eyes. And I can’t help but wonder how things will look for us and our friendship when that happens.

Luca and I came to Seattle together after we lucked out in the draft.

I wanted to be here. It’s where I grew up. I’ve watched and supported the Saints all my life. To get the chance to play here, to step foot on the field and call the stadium and training facilities home? Well, it’s everything.

Luca didn’t want familiar. He didn’t want to follow in his old man’s footsteps. He wanted to carve his own path through the NFL, so he took this chance, and we got to embark on our rookie year together. And fuck me, was it one hell of a year.

We may have both been backups for the quarterback and running back, but it was fucking everything. All my childhood dreams coming true. And, I got to do it with my best friend.

“You’ll figure it out,” Luca says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Being football kids didn’t screw us up too bad, did it?” he teases, looking at me.

“Oh no, we’re totally fucking normal.”

“Look out, blondie is heading this way,” Kane warns, jerking his chin over my shoulder.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath, although not quite enough for them to miss it.

It’s widely known that they’re both happily shacked up. And while that might not stop the most shameless of jersey chasers, a few do actually have some morals when we’re all hanging out together. It’s not unusual for me to get most of the attention. Probably helped by the fact I’ve spent years giving out plenty of my own.

“We wanna win tomorrow, bro. Get your game face on and let the ritual roll,” Luca says as a shadow falls over me.

“It’s not a fucking rit?—”

“Colton Rogers,” the woman purrs, making the hairs on the back of my neck lift, and not in a good way. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard.

Both Luca and Kane visibly shudder before sharing an amused look.

Fuck my life.

“I think we’re gonna call it a night,” Luca says, pushing from his stool. “Big day tomorrow and all,” he says as an excuse to the girl.

“You’re going to stay for a bit, though, right?” she asks me, moving closer and practically sitting on my lap.

“Looks like he couldn’t move right now, even if he wanted to,” Kane points out.

“One drink, and then maybe we can follow them up?” she suggests before leaning closer and pressing her breasts against my chest. “I’ve got a tattoo that I’d love you to see up close.”

I grit my teeth and forcefully remove her from my lap.

“I think I’m good,” I say.

“But it’s your number,” she argues before dropping her irritating voice to something resembling a growl. “Right on my inner thigh.”

Luca snorts but quickly covers it with a cough. Subtlety has never been a skill of his.

“T-that’s great,” I stutter, hoping like hell that she’s lying or that it’s a temporary one.

Getting to my feet, I move away from her.

“I hope you enjoy the game tomorrow,” I say politely, and with a nod, I follow the others out of the hotel bar.

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