Page 1 of Make the Play

ChapterOne

Knox

Pulling my truck into the already crowded driveway, I glance at the clock on the dash and curse. I’m late. I hate to be late, but I did an early morning run that ended up taking longer than expected because my oldest little sister called in the middle of it. She’s getting married in a few months and was catching me up on all the excitement. Her words, not mine. Not that I’m against the union of marriage, but in my line of work, it’s hard to find a woman who wants me for the man, not the quarterback. Is it too much to want someone who wants both?

So, yeah, I spent an hour on the park bench talking to my little sister. By the time I got back to the house to finish my workout routine, it was later than anticipated. However, I can’t skip a workout, not when training camp starts next month. I spent a lot of time at my parents’ place in Jackson, Tennessee, which is two hours from here during the offseason, and my mom and my aunts fed me too well. I need to get back into my routine and get ready for the season.

Not that Landry is going to care. My best friend loves the game as much as I do. We live, eat, and breathe football. Our only exception is our family, which is why I stopped and talked to my little sister for an hour, even though I knew that call was going to make me late for this party. A party that just so happens to be celebrating my best friend’s little sister’s college graduation.

Football and family.

Grabbing my bag from the passenger seat, I climb out of the truck and make my way inside. I don’t bother knocking because I know they’re all out back by the pool. Once inside, I close the door and see Landry Reynolds, the host of the party, and the best damn wide receiver in the league, standing at the kitchen island with a plate of steaks in his hand.

“You’re late,” he tells me.

“Yeah, I went for a run, and Everly called. I ended up talking to her on a park bench for an hour.”

Landry grins. “Wedding talk, I’m sure.”

I nod. “Yeah, she’s excited.” When she and Matt first got engaged, I offered to give her the wedding of her dreams. No budget, and she turned me down. I said the same to my parents, who also turned me down. Dad said she was his daughter and they would pay for the wedding. Not gonna lie, I was a little butt hurt over it. I can afford to give them this, but they wouldn’t let me. It wasn’t until Everly sat down with me one night in our parents’ backyard with a small fire blazing between us that I understood. She said that, to them, I’m just Knox. She said that my offer was generous, and she loved me for offering, but she didn’t want a big day that her brother paid for. She wanted her dream wedding. It turns out her dream wedding is in our small hometown, right where we grew up. Everly described it as intimate, as she listed every detail that night by the fire, and I could see it. I kept the offer on the table, but knew she would never take me up on it. That’s why I need to get them a kick-ass wedding gift. I was going to pay for the honeymoon, but they want a quiet cabin in the mountains for a week, which they also refused to let me pay for. That’s fine, I’ll think of something.

“And we like this guy, right?” Landry asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“We do. He’s good to her. My dad and my uncles made sure of that.” They’re not really my uncles. Only one of them is actually my uncle since he married my aunt, Reagan. The others are just great guys who have been around my entire life.

“Good. Go get changed. I’m about to put these on the grill. Everyone else is already here.” He nods toward the stairs. “All the rooms are empty except for Corie’s,” he tells me, talking about his little sister. She’s the reason for today’s shindig. She graduated from college last weekend and moved home. Landry hasn’t stopped talking about how excited he is for her to be home. The last four years haven’t been easy for either of them. It’s been just the two of them since their mom passed, and I know he’s glad to have her close.

“Give me five,” I say, holding up my bag, then turning, making my way to the stairs and taking them two at a time. My eyes are downcast as I clear the top step.

“Ah!” a female voice screeches. My reflexes kick into high gear as I lift my head to see her about to fall. Reaching out, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my body to keep her from crashing to the floor. Her hands rest on my chest as I stare down at her. Her chest is heaving from the scare of our tussle. Her black hair is pulled up in a messy knot on the top of her head, with a few strands sticking out around her face. Big green eyes stare up at me in shock until a slow smile tilts her lips.

“Hey, Knox,” she greets me shyly.

I study her. She’s familiar, but there is no way I could forget her. Then it hits me. “Corie.” My voice is gravelly, as if I haven’t had a drink of water in days. Fuck me, I see her every now and then when she’s on a video call with Landry, but damn, seeing her in the flesh….

She’s fucking gorgeous.

Those eyes. They’re mesmerizing.

I haven’t seen her in person since she left for college four years ago; it was right after their mom’s funeral. She’s independent as hell and insisted on working while in college, even though Landry told her that he had her covered. She was always working summer internships for her degree, so she never made it home much. The times she did make it home, I was away visiting my family or busy and didn’t get to see her. This is not the same girl who left for college four years ago. Corie Reynolds is all woman now. Warning bells are going off in my mind that I need to let her go, but I can’t seem to make my hands release their hold on her.

She feels too damn good in my arms, but she’s off-limits. Fuck, Landry would kick my ass if he knew my cock was swelling in my shorts at the sight of his sister. I shift a little without letting her go, trying to hide the fact that I’m hard from this brief contact.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to crash into you,” I say, still holding her toned, bikini-clad body to my chest.

She smiles, and it lights up her face, and I swear there’s a sparkle in her eyes. “It’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention either.” She moves to step back, and I have to force my hands to fall to my sides and release her. “Sloane was texting me,” she says. “She’s running late.” She holds up her phone as if she needs an excuse to be texting her best friend.

“Me, too,” I tell her, nodding toward the bag I dropped to catch her from falling. “Not texting, but not paying attention and running late.”

She nods and offers me another dazzling smile. “I’ll see you down there.” There’s a slight blush to her cheeks as she moves to step around me. I quickly grab my bag out of her way and slide closer to the wall, giving her space to descend the stairs.

My eyes follow her as she races away and disappears into the kitchen. I don’t move until I hear the sliding glass door open and close again. My steps are hurried as I move down the hall to one of the spare bedrooms to change. There are already piles of clothes on the bed, letting me know I’m not the only one using this space. I take a seat on the chair in the corner of the room and will my cock to behave. Once I have myself under control, I quickly change into swim trunks, grab my phone and sunglasses, and head toward the door. At the last minute, I tear off my T-shirt and toss it onto the dresser, where I make my own pile of clothes.

My skin still feels warm where her hands rested against my chest. Her touch burned through the thin cotton fabric of my T-shirt. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I can still feel her pressed against me. That’s never happened to me before, and it will never happen again. Corie Reynolds is so off-limits for me, she’s not even in the same hemisphere.

Closing the bedroom door, I make my way back downstairs. As soon as I step outside, the warmth of the sun heats my skin, not like her hands on me, but warm all the same. My teammates call out their hellos as I grab a bottle of water from the cooler and saunter over to the row of lounge chairs next to the pool, claiming one for myself.

“Where you been?” Baker Sinclair asks. Baker is my running back, and a damn good one. He and Foster are constantly in competition. As a halfback, he’s faster on his feet, which his position calls for. Some teams don’t differentiate and just call them all running backs, and they are, but there is a slight difference, and those two like to battle it out, talking about who’s faster.

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