Page 83 of Mad Rivals
“So do I,” I admit. I was trying not to make anyone suspicious, which is why I waited until Sunday. I don’t see why my father would have any knowledge of Madden’s schedule when it comes to football and moving to San Diego, but we can’t be too careful.
Especially since we really won’tneedto be careful when we’re two thousand miles away from home. Or at least notascareful.
We’re taking risks, for sure. Both here at home and in California. We’ve already listed all the reasons why it’s not smart for us to be together publicly.
But that doesn’t seem to be stopping us privately.
CHAPTER 34: Madden Bradley
Guilting Me
I roll onto my side, bliss freely floating through every part of me. I’m exhausted after an intense workout with Clay this morning followed by two rounds of the best sex of my life with the lady by my side.
She’s here. I’m here. We’re together. And I’m trying to live in that knowledge rather than focusing ahead. It’s not like me, and I don’t think it’s much like her, either. We’re a couple of Type-A people who usually know our plans for the next month down to the minute.
But from what I’ve heard, love throws all of that out of proportion. And from what I’ve experienced so far…she’s fully worth it. Whateverthisis between us, it’s fully worth it.
I just don’t know how we take things to the next level. I don’t know how we move beyond this part. I’m not sure either of us are ready for that anyhow, but the thought is there, pressing into me as I think about how this is going to get harder before it gets easier. The thrill of secrecy is wearing thin, and part of me is ready to shout to the world that she’s mine. The other part of me knows we can’t.
In the morning, I make us breakfast, and she heads out for the morning commute up to Aliso Viejo with her romanceaudiobook set to entertain her while she drives. I send her with a key to my place just in case she gets home before me.
I hate saying goodbye, but I’m also heading into the office this morning. My father told me John had some opportunities he wanted to discuss, or rather, my father demanded that because I’m already out here and not yet playing football, I had the time to head in to be his representative.
As if I have nothing else going on.
And he told me not to disappoint him.
Despite my reservations, like a good boy, I head in. It’s not like Ihatethe development game, and honestly, working with Kennedy, who has a similar feeling about taking over her own family business, has been a bit of a game-changer for me. I’m starting to see the benefits of having this business to fill my hours when I’m done playing, and as we turn toward the start of another season, it’s feeling more and more like it’ll be my last.
I haven’t admitted that out loud yet. Not to anyone—not to Dex, my pseudo-offseason roommate while he continues to lay low in Chicago, and not to Kennedy, who might benefit the most from knowing that. It feels like bad luck to talk about it now, and I don’t want anything getting out before I’m ready for it to get out. So it’ll stay in the recesses of my mind. For now. Like a lot of things lately, really.
I head into the office, and John is ready with a presentation for me.
“I heard from some inside sources that Newman Winery in Temecula is looking to expand with tourism amenities and a possible luxury rebrand,” he begins, and he takes me through more details before he finishes. “The winery is owned by Grace Nash, wife of Spencer Nash. I think we have a good chance of landing this project if you can get your new teammate on board.”
I’ve gotten friendly with Spencer over the last few months since the trade deal went through. We play the same position, and we’ve worked out a few times together when I’ve been in town.
Maybe it’s time to get even friendlier so I can seal this deal. It’ll make my dad proud, and who the hell wouldn’t want to work on a project like this? We could propose anything from a luxury hotel to a boutique resort, event spaces, or even venues for festivals or concerts. The winery itself is situated on seventy-five acres of land, and the Newman family just put in a bid to buy more fields nearby to expand. There are endless possibilities for that land, and my mind is already in overdrive dreaming it all up.
“What’s their timeline?” I ask.
“This isn’t public yet, just a tip I heard from an insider, so I’m not sure yet. But I was thinking that you could talk with Spencer and find out more, if that’s something you’re comfortable with.”
Aha. So that’s why my dad sent me here this morning. It had nothing to do with me having the time to stand in for him or not disappointing him and everything to do with guilting me into getting my teammate to choose Bradley Group for this project.
“I have OTAs starting Wednesday of this week,” I say. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Let’s discuss what we want the bid to look like first,” he suggests, and we spend the rest of the morning brainstorming what types of things we’d be able to include in the expansion. He has additional projects to tackle, so after lunch I spend some time drafting up a bid with our best ideas on it. It’s not done by dinnertime, but I want to get home to Kennedy.
After all, we only have tonight and tomorrow, and then OTAs start. It’s the first time this season the practice facility will be open to players, and I’m ready to get on the field and start learning the dynamics of this team.
It’s only four hours of practice on Wednesday and Thursday, but I’ll meet with the other wide receivers for film analysis and additional workouts before I head home. And then Kennedy has to head out Thursday, which feels far too fast.
I want her here all the time, not just Sunday through Thursday.
I have plenty to keep my hours occupied, especially now that offers are starting to come in for different types of engagements. I’m getting paid offers for corporate events, youth camps, charity events, media interviews, meet-and-greets, influencer partnerships, community events, sponsorships, and, of course, the bar and nightclub scene. If I so desired, I could have something booked every night of the week—and I do, in fact, have several nights booked out with Clay.
Maybe I should book a few with Spencer, too—see if I can get to know him a little more off the field.
