to convince me Brantley paid her off to keep quiet.”
Ragged breathing and the hum of the mini fridges are the only sounds in the room. When I can’t take it any longer, I finally lift my head and spin to cup Mase’s face between my hands.
“I know that isn’t true either.” Fire blazes in the green depths of his eyes as I speak. “The only reason I asked about who broke things off is because I’m trying to figure out how much of a grudge she has against you.” I look to my right at Trav. “Both of you.”
“We did,” Mase starts.
“Together,” Trav finishes.
That doesn’t surprise me. By confronting her and ending things together, it would be one more way to show the solidarity of their friendship.
“Fuck.” A hand comes up to grip me by the nape, tugging me closer until I feel Mase’s forehead resting on mine. My eyes close as I just breathe him in, the scent of his soap helping slow the erratic beat of my heart. “Do you have any idea how much it terrifies me that I feel like I painted this target on your back for all this crazy and there’s nothing I can do to protect you?”
“Mase.”
“It fucking kills me, baby.”
This is not on him. Just as he worked to convince me what happened to me was Liam’s fault and not mine, this is all Chrissy/Tina.
“Why come to you, though?” He tilts his head to the side in contemplation. “Brantley might not have paid her off, but she has to realize you would tell me, and there’s zero chance he doesn’t use his resources to try to scare her off.”
“Liam paid her.”
“The fuck?” Trav curses, Mase cutting him a look that says he shares the sentiment.
“She said even if I didn’t believe her, it doesn’t mean she couldn’t get the press to, at least long enough to potentially convince teams you’re a risk and should be considered undraftable.” As much as I dread the rapidly approaching long distance of our relationship, I’ll do everything in my power to protect his future.
“I told you I don’t give a shit about the draft.” Nails dig into my skin as Mase tightens his grip on me. “Even if her bullshit keeps me out of it, that doesn’t mean I can’t get picked up by a team after I’m cleared.”
“No.” I’m shaking my head before he finishes his sentence. “That would cost you millions.”
“Babe.” Mase looks around the game room. “I’m not exactly hurting for money. You are what’s important to me.”
Fuck. My eyes grow hot, and I attempt to blink away the urge to cry but fail, Mase thumbing away the tear. “Dammit. You and your swoony words.”
“They call me Casanova for a reason.” One of his dimples pops out.
“You’re an ass.” I hate that moniker.
“You love me anyway.”
“God help me, I do…Caveman.”
He grows silent, a pensive look overtaking his handsome face. When he smooths a hand over his hat, my nerves flare up. “Maybe I really should consider putting the draft off until next year, let some of the heat die down.”
I’m shaking my head before he can finish. I thought we put this ludicrous idea to bed weeks ago.
#Chapter26
Thoughts of yesterday plague my mind while I pack the bags I need for the almost week-long road trip to Texas for the Cotton Bowl. Typically when the team travels for away games, it’s only for a weekend, but bowl games require us to be in the host city for all the pre-events and media requirements.
For as cool as it is to get to practice in the same stadium as the Dallas Outlaws, I can’t banish my concerns for Kay. After dropping the Chrissy/Tina/Liam bombshell on Trav and me last night, she assured us she had the situation handled.
Who the fuck knows what she means by that? All I know is I’m not looking forward to being 1,600 miles away from her should something happen.
“Mason.” The sound of my stepdad’s voice has me pausing in zipping up my suitcase to look toward the open door of my bedroom. I haven’t filled Brantley in on the things Kay told me, and based on the inscrutable expression on his face, I get the impression I’m going to be glad I haven’t.
“Dad.” I eye him with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pressed chinos a second longer before finishing my task with the zipper and setting the case off to the side. He may not be my