After The Fire (One Pass Away Book 3) (18 page)

PROLOGUE

SEAN McBRIDE WOKE up with a smile on his face. It happened a
lot lately. And he thoroughly approved.

He stretched his long, athletic body. Some mornings every
inch of him ached. Such was the life of a professional football player.
Everything was about preparing for the game. Focus. Concentration. The goal was
to be ready for game day.

He had to hold it together for sixty minutes. Pull out a win
any way possible. Sacrifice his body to the football Gods and pray he walked
away healthy enough to do it all again next week.

Sean dreaded the day after the game. The adrenaline had long
ago worn off and he felt all of his thirty years. There were degrees of bad.
Sometimes he shuffled to the shower, the aches and pains palpable, but
mercifully bearable.

Then there were the bad days. After a day of
three-hundred-pound defensive backs using him as their own personal punching
bag, he didn’t get out of bed—he crawled.

Bruised from top to bottom, his joints creaked and his
muscles protested like screeching banshees. Those were the times he wondered
why he did it. He could have been a doctor. Or a lawyer. He could have taken
his father’s advice and gone into the family business. No seventeen-year-old
with dreams of glory in the NFL wanted to think about becoming a butcher. But
damn. Cutting meat sounded good on those mornings.

This was a good Monday. His body felt lithe—limber. The
bruises were there. That was part of his life. However, yesterday had been one
of those rare games when every moment fell into place. From the kickoff to the
final whistle, the outcome of the game was never in question.

Sean caught every ball thrown his way. He evaded the
defense. Fast as the wind. Three touchdowns. One hundred and eighty-two total
yards. A damn good day for any wide receiver. He would have had more if Coach
Coleman hadn’t taken him out of the game in the fourth quarter. With a big
lead, there was no reason to risk injury when he wasn’t needed.

The after-game celebration moved from the locker room to one
of the team’s favorite hangouts. Naturally the atmosphere was raucous.
Cautiously so.

The Knights were having a stellar season. Ten wins, two
losses. Sean and his friends had enough games under their belts to understand
how quickly that could turn. Injuries tended to come in bunches. So far, they
were healthy. However, that was bound to change. The hope was to get to the
playoffs with all their major players on the roster.

After the game, they had a few drinks. Three was Sean’s
limit these days. A few years ago it was a different story. He would have
closed the place down after a win. He and his bed partner of the moment would
have moved on to someone’s apartment, partying until dawn before going back to
her place and fucking like demented rabbits. Then he would go home alone and
catch a few hours sleep until it was time to grab a quick shower before heading
to the Knights’ headquarters to review film from the game.

Those days were over. Sean wasn’t a kid anymore, high on his
own press clippings and more testosterone than brains. Not that he had settled
down completely. He could still party with the best of them. However, he chose
his moments—ones that never took place during the season.

Women were another matter. Sean liked sex. Always had. If
there were a God, he always would. While his bed partners weren’t as varied,
they were almost as frequent.

Sean knew players who abstained a few days before the game,
saving their
juice
. He wasn’t one of them. Sean had plenty of juice,
thank you very much. Sex was necessary for a happy and healthy mind. For
his
happy and healthy mind.

A big plus to having sex at night was sex the next morning.
It was one of his favorite things. A partner, warm and willing.

The perfect way to start the day.

Speaking of which. Smiling, Sean turned over. His hand
reached out, expecting to find a soft, sweet woman. Instead, he found cold
sheets. Sitting up, he looked around the room. Like the bed, empty. The
bathroom door was open and the light off.

Not bothering to cover up, Sean jumped out of bed. Buck
naked, he searched the house. She wasn’t in the kitchen. Why would she be? She
didn’t cook, not even coffee. She was on a first-name basis with half the
baristas in Seattle.

Was that it? Would she be back soon with two cups of
steaming black caffeine and his favorite muffins? Sean was talking himself into
that scenario when he saw the note.

He picked up the paper that had been propped against the
lamp by the front door.

Sean.

Thank you for the past few weeks. After years of building
it up in my mind, I was worried that it couldn’t live up to my expectations. I
should have known better. It was everything I had hoped for—and more.

We didn’t make any promises. No strings were attached
that need to be broken. After all these years, you can finally breathe easy. It’s
over. We are now friends without the expectation of benefits.

When we see each other, it will be as if it, we, never
happened.

Sean read the note. Then read it again.

What the fuck
? What was in those drinks?

Sean searched his memory for some kind of clue. The bar. His
teammates. Then she was there. They laughed. Everything was smooth and easy.
They seemed to be developing a rhythm. In his mind, they were together. Not a
man and a woman—a couple.

It sounded good to him. He would have sworn she felt the
same. He didn’t want another woman. He wanted her. In his arms. In his life.

No expectations? Hell. He woke up with plenty of them,
only to find out he was alone. Alone in bed. Alone. Period.

Sean scrubbed a hand over his face. He remembered the way
she tasted. The way she melted into his arms. The curves of her luscious body
pressed against his. Her sighs. His belief he would never get enough of her.

Crumpling the note into a ball, Sean tossed it across the
room. Suddenly he felt every ache. His legs felt like lead. Slowly, he shuffled
toward the bathroom. He needed a shower. Long and hot. Determined not to look
at the bed, Sean’s peripheral vision wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily.
It captured everything. The rumpled sheet. The pillow still holding the imprint
of her head. A slash of red on the floor.

Frowning, Sean picked up the scrap of silk. So small he
wondered why she had bothered. The image of her standing in nothing but her
heels and the panties popped into his head. Unconsciously, his body tightened
with desire.

Right, that was why.

Sean ran the smooth material over his cheek, feeling it
catch on his morning stubble. He breathed deeply. He smelled vanilla and spice.
Her essence. He would never forget it. As long as he lived, he would be able to
close his eyes and conjure up her scent. Her taste.

His eyes popped open.
Friends? Nothing more?
Bullshit
!

Keeping the panties in his hand, Sean headed for the shower.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. It was just the beginning.

Writing isn’t easy. But I love every second. A blank screen isn’t
the enemy. It is an opportunity to create new friends and take them on amazing
adventures and life-changing journeys. I feel blessed to spend my days weaving
tales that are unique—because I made them.

Billionaires. Songwriters. Artists. Actors. Directors.
Stuntmen. Football players. They fill the pages becoming dear friends I hope
you will want to revisit again and again.

Thank you for jumping into my books and coming along for the
journey

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