Page 91 of The Jack*ss in Class

As we pulled away from the curb, Marcus launched into his pitch. “The Bandits are building something special. New coaching staff, state-of-the-art facilities, and a quarterbackwho needs protection.” He glanced at us in the rearview mirror. “Having both Kingman brothers as the foundation of our defense on both sides for the next decade? That’s the kind of dynasty move that wins championships.”

A decade in LA. The words settled in my chest, heavy with significance. I gazed out the window at the passing cityscape, at the endless stretch of possibility.

With these few minutes in the car, I texted Tempest back quickly.

Me: Just met our Bandits liaison. Very slick. Hotel looks amazing, but I’d rather be wherever you are.

I hit send before I could overthink it, then looked up to find us pulling into the circular drive of an upscale hotel near the stadium. From our vantage point, I could see the Pacific stretching toward the horizon, though those distant clouds seemed a bit darker now, creeping steadily closer to shore.

“Home for the next few days, gentlemen,” Marcus announced as the valet opened our doors. “Dinner in a few hours. Tomorrow, we show you the future.”

The Bandits’ training facility was nothing short of spectacular. A gleaming monument to modern sports science, it made our college facilities look like a high school weight room. Everything from the recovery pools to the film room screamed elite-level commitment.

“This is where the magic happens,” Coach Rivera, the Bandits’ defensive coordinator, spread his arms wide as we entered the main practice field. “State-of-the-art everything. Best training staff in the league. And soon,” hepointed at us, “two Kingman anchors for our future plans.”

A row of lockers stood against one wall, temporary nameplates already in place. F. KINGMAN and G. KINGMAN side by side, just like always.

“Visualize it,” Rivera said. “We want you to see yourselves here.”

I ran my fingers across the nameplate. It felt real. Tangible. The culmination of everything I’d worked for since I was five years old tossing a football with Dad in the backyard.

“This,” he said, pressing play, “is where you come in.”

For the next hour, I lost myself in football talk, schemes, stunts, blitz packages. It was all fascinating, all exactly what I’d dreamed about. But part of me kept drifting to thoughts of Tempest. I was here to make plans for my future, but that also meant planning our evening together.

Because with every passing minute, I knew without a doubt I wanted her to be a part of it.

“You want to do some sightseeing or have some fun off the field while you’re here?” Rivera asked.

I definitely wanted to have some fun off the field. “Sir?”

“Focus, son.” He laughed. “I asked if you’re planning to enjoy LA while you’re here.”

“I, uh,” I hesitated. “A friend is in town too, so just some dinner plans.”

“Lady friend?” Rivera grinned knowingly at Dad. “Beautiful city for romance, LA.”

Dad nodded, surprising me with his casualacknowledgment. “I want the boys to be able to make the most of their time here, all aspects of it, so they can really see if they want to spend the next ten years here.”

“Well, we definitely want you to have fun while you’re here too,” Rivera clapped me on the shoulder. “Tomorrow we really put you through your paces.”

“Yes, sir,” I nodded, already counting the minutes until I got to see Tempest.

“Still thinking of Denver?” Gryff asked quietly as we headed back to the car.

I hesitated. “I’m thinking about the best opportunity.”

“This is it, bro.” He gestured around us. “This is everything we’ve worked for.”

I wasn’t ready to think about whether everything I’d worked for was still what I wanted.

A couple of hours later, I’d met some of the biggest players in the League both physically and as players that I looked up to. Tomorrow we were scheduled to meet the owner. The Bandits were really rolling out the red carpet for us.

But tonight, we had the evening free. Neither Gryff nor Dad said a word when I flew out of the hotel to meet up with Tempest. Finally.

I spotted her immediately. A bright spot of color against the increasingly gray sky, waiting at the entrance to the beach path where we’d agreed to meet. The sight of her made my heart go all wobbly, warm and dangerously close to the emotional territory I usually avoided.

But not anymore. Not with Tempest.

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