“I’m not crazy about his arrogant public persona,” I admit. “But I like how he is with me when we’re alone. He’s been great to the kids at the hospital, and he is fun to be with. I don’t think I could afford to feed him for long. The man can pack away the food.”

“You should have seen him as a teenager. This is nothing. I think mom and dad had to take out a second mortgage on the house just for Will’s groceries.”

“I’m not surprised,” I laugh.

“So, you like him,” Natalie grins knowingly.

“I like him,” I agree.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him.” Jules’ eyes are narrowed menacingly and I giggle.

“Aren’t you supposed to be saying that to me? He’s your brother.”

“He’s a man.” She shrugs as if that explains it all.

“Hey! He’s on TV! Turn up the volume!” Natalie yells over to the bartender. He turns up the volume on the TV in time to catch a post-game interview with Will.

He looks fantastic, all sweaty and dirty, panting.

Damn, that jersey does things to me.

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“Great game, Montgomery. Congrats on another win.” The shorter man turns the mic to Will, who smiles graciously.

“Thanks, man. We played a good game.”

“Do you think Jennings will be out for the rest of the season with that knee injury in the third quarter?”

“Oh, man, I hope not. I don’t know.”

“Did you feel any pressure from the Green Bay defensive line tonight?”

Will frowns down at the guy like that is the stupidest question he’s ever heard. “I feel pressure from every defensive line.”

“Are you ready for Miami next week?”

“I think so. We’re training hard, watching a lot of tape. We’ll be as ready as we can be next Sunday.”

“You’ve been seen around town with an auburn-haired woman. Is she your girlfriend?”

My heart stops. Literally stops. Natalie gasps and Jules frowns.

“This guy is an idiot.” Jules mutters.

Will offers the guy a lazy, cocky grin. “Dude, does she look like someone that I would date?” He laughs mockingly. “She’s a friend of the family. I don’t have room in my life for a woman right now. Football is my priority.”

“Good luck next week, man.”

Will nods and then the screen turns back to the four guys at a table talking about the game.

“Meg, he didn’t mean it to sound like that,” Jules says quietly.

Does she look like someone that I would date?

I feel nauseous.

“Fuck, I’m stupid.” I whisper.

“No, sweetie. Seriously, he didn’t mean to sound like that.”

“I think he meant exactly what he said, Jules.” I shake my head to clear it and dig some cash out of my bag, toss it onto the table and stand. “I’m going home. Thanks for the fun night out, guys.”

“Meg, don’t go.”

“I’m okay. I just need to think. When you meet up with the guys later, tell Will I didn’t feel well, and I’ll call him in a few days.”

Yeah, like that’s going to work.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jules fumes as I walk away.

Chapter Eleven

~Will~

Will

How could you? How could you start seeing someone when I know that you love me? That ugly bitch is nothing, and she will never love you like I do. Why won’t you notice me? If you’ll just stop seeing her, and love me the way I know you want to, I won’t hurt her.

Your love.

Holy fuck.  What kind of sick fuck would leave this in my locker and how in the hell did they get into our locker room? I need to talk to Mike, our head of security, now.

“Hey! Someone get Mike for me!” I yell out, confident that someone will fetch him.

We played a kick-ass game against the Packers tonight. Hell, I’ve been playing the best ball of my life the past few weeks, and I don’t think its coincidence that it’s since I’ve started seeing Meg. This dumb-ass stalker fan bullshit won’t touch her. Thank God I put that alarm system on her house.

The thought of anything happening to her makes me sick.

“Hey, Montgomery, can I ask a few questions?” A new sportscast guy is holding a mic in my face and I paste on my public smile and play the post-game game.

“Sure, man.”

“Great game, Montgomery. Congrats on another win.” The shorter man turns the mic to me.

“Thanks, man. We played a good game.”

“Do you think Jennings will be out for the rest of the season with that knee injury in the third quarter?”

“Oh, man, I hope not. I don’t know.” How the fuck would I know? Do I look like a fucking doctor?

“Did you feel any pressure from the Green Bay defensive line tonight?”

I frown down at the idiot and want to ask him if he’s ever watched football. Jesus, where did they find this asshole?  “I feel pressure from every defensive line.”

“Are you ready for Miami next week?”

“I think so. We’re training hard, watching a lot of tape. We’ll be as ready as we can be next Sunday.”

“You’ve been seen around town with an auburn-haired woman. Is she your girlfriend?”

Fuck. Please, babe, don’t be watching this. My stomach clenches and I’m glad I’m already sweaty from the game so no one can see the fresh sheen that’s just broken out on my face.




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