Page 3 of Home Town Advantage
I fell asleep with my arms around him, but now his surround me, and he’s on top of me.
He rubs his thumb along my cheek and whispers, “Your eyes look so blue right now. You’re beautiful, Sullivan Aisling.”
I’d like to say I immediately push him away and kick him in the balls for daring to say that to me after all he’s done. But I don’t. I simply stare into the most gorgeous face ever created. The one I spent a lifetime dreaming about.
Years of fantasies are trickling through my head when Vance McCaffrey, the man I’ve hated for years, the man who tried to destroy my family, the man who betrayed my brother, the man who nearly derailed my career, does the worst thing possible.
He kisses me.
ONE
EIGHT MONTHS AGO ~ DRAFT DAY
VANCE
“You’re sweating like a whore in church, man. Chill the fuck out. Everything will be okay.” Daylen reaches into a bowl and grabs a celery stick. He’s always got celery sticks around and eats them like normal people eat M&Ms or a bag of chips.
I turn on my sofa and scowl at my closest friend, Daylen Humblecut. He and I have played football together for nearly ten years on the Philly Camels. I’m the quarterback, and he’s the tight end who’s my go-to man in all big situations. Our personalities might be night and day, but we have an on-field chemistry that can’t be manufactured. It’s special.
I take in his appearance. He’s even larger and taller than I am, and I’m a huge man. Despite his size, he’s the biggest marshmallow on the planet. He’s always happy and full of silliness. I’m the opposite, taking things too seriouslyand rarely seen with a smile on my face. It’s only gotten worse for me through the years, especially the last five.
Daylen recently shaved his blond hair short, but it’s already grown at least an inch this week. He often messes with both the hair on his head and his facial hair. In fact, he’s currently sporting a bizarre mustache. “Why do you look like Rollie Fingers right now?”
Rollie Fingers was a famous baseball player in the seventies who was famous for his handlebar mustache that looked like he twisted and curled the ends with his fingers.
He throws his head back and booms out his famous house-shaking laugh. “Oh shit, that’s funny. Kam called me Captain Lou Albano the other day when I still had the goatee decorated with rubber bands.” Captain Lou is an old-school professional wrestler.
I can’t help but chuckle. Kamryn Hart is a professional softball player in Philly. She’s been dating our buddy, Cheetah, for a few months. He’s a professional baseball player. Kam is a riot. Besides my firecracker of a grandmother, Kam and Daylen tend to be the only people who can make me smile with regularity.
Running my fingers through my wavy, overgrown hair, I blow out a long breath and nod toward the television. “If the Beavers draft Sulley, shit is going to get weird for me.”
Daylen and my agent, Tanner Montgomery, are the only two friends who know my full history. It’s something I’ve miraculously managed to keep under wraps for years.
I gave Tanner my blessing to pursue Sulley as a client, and he’s now her agent. In some small way, this is how I can keep my promise to her brother, Finn, to always look out for her. There are a lot of shady agents out there. Tanner is one of the best men I know. He’ll make sure no one takes advantage of that big, innocent heart of hers.
Daylen’s smile fades, and he pats my back. “I know, man.It’s not ideal, but Philly is a big city. I doubt you’ll have to see her much, if at all.”
Seeing my childhood best friend’s little sister on a regular basis would be crazy for me on about a thousand different levels. I’ve known Sullivan Aisling O’Shea her entire twenty-three years, but I remember the first time I trulysawher.
It was also the last time I saw Finn. The last time things were good in my life.
FIVE YEARS AGO
I pull my old beat-up pickup truck, the one I still keep at my parents’ house in my hometown, into the small airstrip at the Helena Airport. Finn is due to land any minute now.
Nearly eight years ago, when we were eighteen, he enlisted in the Marines. That’s what most of the boys in our hometown do if they don’t have a family ranch. They enlist. A few lucky ones, like me, get college scholarships to play sports, but those without a working family ranch answer the call of duty. It’s an old-school town full of cowboys and blue-collar workers. No one can afford to go to college without significant financial assistance.
After I signed a big contract last year, I started funding college scholarships for the top ten students in my high school’s graduating class. I wanted to encourage the kids to work hard. My annual donation is technically anonymous, but everyone knows where it comes from. I’m the only person from this town to ever make six figures, let alone the eight I’m currently being paid to throw a pigskin ball.
When we were twenty-two, Finn was up for re-enlistment. I had just signed a small rookie contract, but I offered to pay for him to go to college if he didn’t re-enlist. He was tooproud and declined my offer. His second and final deployment is almost over. Even if he has the money saved, this time, I’m going to insist he let me pay for him to go to college. All he ever talked about when we were kids was becoming an architect. He’s been drawingFinn’s Fantastic Designsfor as long as I can remember. That’s how he started signing his drawings when we were in kindergarten, and it stuck. All his designs have that at the bottom, but the cabin he designed and we built in high school was his pride and joy. The days and nights working with him to help make his dream cabin become a reality are some of my best teenage memories. Watching his drawings from a notepad turn into a home truly blew my mind. He’s so talented. It’s time for his dream of being a real architect to become a reality. I can’t wait to be his first client.
I exit my truck as soon as I see him appear on the airplane steps. With a huge smile, I shout, “Look at Sergeant O’Shea. Fucking handsome little devil.” He’s six feet, one inch, which isn’t small, but it’s a lot smaller than me, and I’ve always loved giving him shit about it.
As soon as his eyes find me, I see his larger-than-life grin. It’s been a long time since he’s been home. Years. He looks a little worn but still has his Irish good looks with fair skin, light hair, and blue eyes.
In his uniform, holding himself with perfect posture, he makes his way to me and we hug for the first time in over two years. I do my best to hide my emotions as I slap his back. “So fucking good to see you, brother.”
He squeezes me tightly. “You too, man. Thanks for the ride.”
