#Heart (Hashtag #6) (8 page)

We needed to be together now.

“What are you thinking?” Rimmel asked.

My lips curved up. “Smurf Balls.”

Rimmel grinned. “You want to have an engagement party at Screamerz?”

“Why not? We better do it now before we’re all too old and married to still think it’s fun.”

Rimmel snorted. “I don’t think Braeden will ever be too old for that place.”

I could totally picture him at the age of eighty, still trying to dance and telling everyone he still had it. What a goofball.

The endearing, fun thought made me realize that was a side of him that hadn’t been out very often lately.

“What is it?” Rimmel asked, practically reading my thoughts.

I grabbed the OJ and took a fortifying sip, wondering if Rimmel had noticed the changes in him as well.

Once I recapped the juice, I looked up to ask, but Rimmel was no longer looking at me.

And thank goodness, because the look on her face was fierce.

Very rarely did I ever see Rimmel look that way. The only times I’d seen her wear a similar expression was when someone was threatening her family.

Family = Romeo and B.

I rotated in my seat, wondering what in the world was causing such a momma bear look to come out of her.

And then I saw.

Standing right there behind me was a familiar face.

A familiar
unwelcome
face.

Missy.

Braeden

The second I entered Anthony’s office, all thoughts of whatever I had going on at home, in my head, and between me and Rome were tucked away for later.

This meeting was about my future, my hopeful NFL career.

It had been a long few months. Hell, when the idea that I could actually become a pro football player became a reality, I was excited as hell. Who wouldn’t be?

It was full throttle ahead.

But then my excitement was dimmed.

With everything else going on around me, it had been hard to keep up with the level of training I needed to keep myself viable. The truth was being a professional athlete took
a lot
of discipline. It took a lot of determination. This career isn’t something someone just woke up and was good enough to do. Even for people like Rome, who were born with raw talent, it still took a hell of a lot of work.

It wasn’t that I still didn’t want to be in the NFL. I wanted to play with Romeo again almost more than anything. The thing was sometimes it felt like I had to choose between Ivy and the game.

I was committed to Ivy one hundred and ten percent. I loved her. I loved her more than anything, and because of that, I wondered how I would balance a life with her and a life of football.

I knew it was possible. I watched Rome and Rimmel do it on a daily basis.

It was because of them I was here in this meeting and still actively pursuing this path. That and the fact I
did
want this and I knew the job would offer Ivy and me the financial stability we wouldn’t get anywhere else.

Anthony got the ball rolling. He became my official manager and sent in the application for me to enter the draft early. I was going to find out today if that application had been accepted. I would know in just a few minutes if the NFL would even consider me for the draft.

Then the real work would begin.

As if getting here had been child’s play.

Anthony was sitting behind his desk, his dark hair combed neatly and his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his tie long discarded. Over the back of the chair he sat in was his suit jacket and on his wrist was a gold watch that probably cost a shit ton of money.

“What’s all the hollering I heard out there from your mother?” he asked when Romeo and I stepped inside.

“We were shooting the shit in the driveway. Mom didn’t like it,” Romeo answered.

Anthony smiled. “Yes, well, your mother hates it when people are late.”

“Sorry about that,” I spoke up. “I was at the gym training.”

Anthony waved away my words. “It’s fine. I’ll be working from home the rest of the day. Besides, training is more important than sitting in meetings with me. Especially now.”

Romeo made a sound and slapped me on the back.

I held back my reaction to what those words might mean.

Anthony noted my reaction and smiled. “They accepted the application, Braeden. You are officially in the draft for the NFL.”

“Hells yeah!” Romeo shouted.

I laughed, feeling a little shell-shocked. I mean, I knew the possibility of it being accepted was really good, but still. I guess I hung on to the fact it might be a no because I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

Anthony stood up and offered me his hand, a genuine smile on his lips. I reached across the desk and shook it.

The door to the office opened, and Valerie stuck her head in. “I heard happy yelling!” she said.

“B’s in the draft!” Romeo told her.

Valerie hurried into the room with a large white bag in her hand. She set it down and rushed over and pulled me into a hug. “We’re so proud of you,” she said.

My chest tightened. Romeo’s parents had been in my life for a long time. They’d always treated me like a second son. Having them here and knowing I had their support was something that could never be replaced.

I hugged her back, and when she pulled away, she reached into the bag and pulled out a big purple hoodie. It had the Knights symbol on the chest.

I laughed.

“I got you this,” she said excitedly. “And I got one for Ivy, too.” She pulled out another one that wasn’t quite as large. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Ivy wouldn’t wear hers. She’d only wear mine after I wore it and it smelled like me.

“And what would you have done if my application had been denied?” I asked.

“Nonsense. Ron Gamble isn’t a dumb man.”

“Gamble doesn’t approve the applications, Mom,” Romeo told her.

“Oh,” she said and waved away the knowledge. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because it was approved.”

I took the hoodies and laughed. “Thanks, Moms.”

“You’re welcome, honey. It’s going to be so good to have both my boys on the same team again.”

The sound of a ringing phone drifted in the room from down the hall.

“Oh, that’s my cell. It’s probably the caterer about the engagement party. I need to get that.” She rushed from the room.

I lifted a brow at Romeo. “Engagement party?”

“Don’t ask,” he groaned.

Anthony laughed. “Any reason to throw a party.”

I draped the purple shirts over a nearby chair and then sat down. I was freaking pumped about my application being accepted. I was one step closer to playing pro.

I glanced between Rome and his dad. “She does know I might not end up with the Knights, right?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Romeo said. There was no room for argument in his voice.

“Unless you got a genie in a bottle somewhere in this house,” I quipped. “You and I both know the odds.”

Romeo made a face like the truth pissed him off. I knew he wanted me on his team. Hell, I wanted it, too. But I had to be realistic here. I couldn’t get my head or heart set on the outcome I wanted, because it would only make it harder if I got drafted on some team that wasn’t the Knights.

“Obviously, the possibility of that happening is there,” Anthony said. “We all know how this organization works. It’s all in who picks you up first.”

And if two teams tried to pick me up at the same time, I would go to the highest bidder.

In a way, it was kind of like a cattle auction.

Except it was for men.

“Gamble wants you. Head Coach Westfall wants you. They’re gonna draft you.” Romeo had so much confidence it was hard not to hope.

“How much did you have to do with it?” I asked point blank.

Romeo sat nearby and looked me in the eye. “You know damn well I went to bat for you. I made it no secret I want you on the field with me. But it wasn’t me who convinced them, B. It was your stats from last season. I might have brought you some attention, but your record speaks for itself.”

Anthony nodded. “It’s true. Your stats are in line with some of the most anticipated players in the draft this year. You definitely belong.”

“Any other teams interested?” I asked Anthony.

“I haven’t heard much, but I know you’re being looked at.”

Romeo stiffened. I glanced at him and his jaw was hard. I knew it was killing him that this wasn’t a done deal. It was clear just by looking at him that he hadn’t even considered I’d be drafted to another team, one in another state away from him and our family.

“How many teams are ahead of the Knights in the draft order?” Romeo asked his father.

“A few.” He hedged. “The Knights are somewhere in the midrange for draft picks, which is good. At least they aren’t in the bottom.”

If they were in the bottom, then the higher the chance I’d be picked up by another team.

Both Romeo and I fell silent, digesting the news.

“Gamble’s doing everything he can to get you, Braeden. He’s a determined man. This isn’t something you really have any control over. We’re going to have to wait and see. Until then, you need to be training every day. You need to keep your nose clean, keep your reputation clean. Press is good, but only good press.”

I nodded, and Romeo glanced at me. I knew he was thinking all the good press we planned on generating had been put on hold because of Ivy’s accident. I hadn’t wanted to go very far while she was recovering. I’d missed all his final games of the season last year. The plan was to be in the stands, to be seen with Romeo and the team out in public.

That never happened.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that was going to hurt me.

“When are we going to know?” I asked, already dreading the wait.

“Draft picks are at the end of April this year.”

So I had almost two months to wait.

Fuck me.

“And until then?” I asked. Technically, I knew all this, but I just needed to hear him say it. It made it more real.

“Until then, train your ass off. The player personnel staff is going to be watching you. They’ll be in contact with the head coach of the Wolves, with Alpha University, and with me since I’m your agent. Personnel will likely come and watch you train. They’re going to want to see you play, maybe even how you interact with your teammates.”

“Technically, they aren’t my teammates anymore,” I said, the realization hitting me hard. Those guys had been my extended family for over three years. I glanced at Romeo. He nodded, and I saw the understanding in his eyes.

I was getting a little taste of how he’d felt last year.

“Yes, technically, you’ve ended your college career, but since the Wolves are where you’re coming from, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where the personnel starts.”

I nodded, trying to wrap my head around it all.

You knew you were growing up when your first reaction to something as epic as being drafted by the NFL wasn’t to go get wasted and party, but to plan, train, and go home and tell your girl.

“It’s a lot. I know,” Anthony said. “Since things with Roman happened a little differently, this is sort of my first go with some of this as well. But I want you to know, son, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you go to a good team, the right team. And I’m going to make damn sure they pay you well. You might be a rookie, but you’re a damn good one.”

“And you don’t have any broken bones,” Romeo cracked.

“Guess that means I’ll get more money,” I taunted.

Romeo laughed. “A rookie three-year contract? Yeah, you’ll make more than my one season
let’s see if you can play
paycheck.” Then he smirked and his eyes turned cocky. “But my new four-year contract with the Knights? No way in hell you’ll get what I am.”

I looked at Anthony and lifted a brow. He chuckled. “I negotiate very well.”

I knew Romeo had a newly signed four-year contract, but I never asked him how much he was making. Sure, I could probably look it up online, but I didn’t care. We’d never been about money and we never would be.

But I had to admit now I was curious just how much he was getting paid.

“I’m going to keep on this. Just because you’re draft eligible now doesn’t mean I sit back and wait,” Anthony said, drawing my thoughts away. “I’m going to work just as hard for you as I do for Roman.”

I swallowed. “I really appreciate that. Thank you for doing this for me.”

“You know we think of you like a son. We only want the best for you.”

Usually, I would make a funny comment or a joke at a time like this. Something to take the edge off the feelings flooding my chest. But my sarcastic side failed me in that moment. I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything that might take away from the genuineness in his words.

Anthony Anderson had been more a father to me my entire life than my actual father had been, so to hear him say those things…

Well…

Yeah.

Thankfully, Romeo was there and he knew what needed to be said.

“Geez, Dad, you don’t have to kiss his ass. You already have season tickets.”

Anthony threw back his head and laughed. The hand gripping my heart let go, and I let out a shaky laugh.

“Don’t be getting a big head over there.” Rome continued and got up to knock me on the shoulder. “I still make more money than you.”