Page 93 of Hot Receiver

“You did good today,” Jase says in a gruff voice.

“Thanks, you, too.”

“But remember, we still beat you to the playoffs last season.”

“How could I forget?” Bryce claps a hand on Jase’s shoulder. “It’s what drove us to steamroll you today.”

“Uh, I’d hardly call it a steamrolling.” Sam Hartley, one of the tight ends for Oakland, walks up next to Bryce. He flashes a smile at the rest of us, his dark eyes glowing as he twists the cap off a bottle of water. I catch Brixton take a long look at Sam and then sweep a hand through his dark rock star hair and tug his gaze away.

Interesting.

Brixton’s got quite a reputation for being a bad boy rocker, so his thinly veiled interest in Sam is a little curious. Besides being a star athlete for one of the best teams in the NFL, Sam’s got that whole good boy vibe going on—super close with his family, not much into partying, and does a lot of charity work. He’s got this quiet kind of calm about him.

The complete opposite of Brixton Scott, who is notably chaotic in all aspects of his life.

Then again, Sam is gorgeous in a Liam Hemsworth kind of way, so I get the draw.

He’s also famous right now because in addition to helping beat the Crusaders for a spot in the playoffs, he’s just announced to the world that he’s gay.

“Whatever, we won.” Bryce raises his beer bottle, and we all clink them together. Sam holds up his water and grins.

Brixton’s gaze catches on Sam’s smile, and I swear it looks like his brain needs a jump start when I say his name and yank him out of whatever twisted thought is probably zipping through his mind right now.

He drains the last of his beer and slams the bottle on the table. Then, he nods his head toward the stage.

I pat Matt’s arm. “I’ll be back. Try not to listen to Jase while I’m gone, okay? I’ve got to figure out a way to put a smile on your face again.”

“If you’re thinking a quick BJ…” He turns toward me with a wicked smirk on his face.

“Hmmm…hold that thought.” I kiss his cheek and follow Brixton while Jase continues to lament.

My pulse jumps into my throat, hammering hard.

“Gotta say, you don’t seem like the type for this,” Brixton says, giving me a long look.

I bring a hand to the back of my neck and rub the knot, panic twisting in my gut. “Thanks for giving me the chance.”

“Anything for a friend of Lucas and Jase.”

I bite back a smile when I see Brixton sneak another look over at Sam.

“He’s hot, huh?”

Brixton glares at me. “Who, pretty boy back there? Jesus, the guy wears a fucking halo. Probably drinks milk with his Brussels sprouts and goes to bed at seven o’clock every night,” he scoffs. “Let’s go.”

We dip out of the main area of the bar and toward the stage. Lane gives Anna a puppy dog smile before darting toward Brixton. I look at her and her cheeks flush pink. “Something happening here?”

She grins at me, her blue eyes sparkling. “There may have been another reason why I came up to Oakland today.”

“He better know what he’s getting.”

“Well, he hasn’t gotten anything yet.” She giggles. “But I don’t know, maybe later…”

I give her a quick hug. “I want to hear all about it tomorrow.”

Then, I run up the stairs on the side of the stage where the rest of the band is warming up. Anna furrows her brows at meand holds up her hands as if to say, “What the hell are you doing up there?”

I shrug and wink at her.

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