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“O’Rourke, you got a girlfriend we don’t know about? You know there are no secrets on this team.” Griffin’s deep, booming voice carries, and I wince.
“No comment,” I reply.
“If you do, don’t lose your focus on the game. You’ve been playing lights out,” he adds.
“I won’t. If anything, she helps me keep it.”
“So there is a girlfriend.” Griffin smirks.
“Yeah, and she’s amazing.”
“She’s too good for him, that’s for sure,” Cooper says, laughing.
“I can’t argue with that. I think she only agreed because I wore her down.”
Brett strides toward me.Just fucking great.“Did I hear Griffin say you have a girlfriend?” he asks.
“I don’t know, did you?” Why should I answer him when it’s none of his business. He and I aren’t friendly.
His smile is tight. “Who’s the unlucky girl?” When I don’t answer, he aims a pointed glance at Cooper.
“Just a cute little redhead,” he says, trying to answer him without betraying my confidence. Unfortunately, we haven’t discussed the history between Brett and Autumn.
Brett’s eyebrows lower, his expression darkening as his gaze swings to me. “Autumn?” And as the saying goes, the jig is up. There’s no sense in denying it. I’m not afraid of him, nor do I care the least about what he thinks.
I place my plate down on the table and nod. “Yes.”
“MyAutumn?” he sneers.
“No. Not yours. She’s not some fucking possession to own.”
He steps closer, invading my space. “Must suck to always be the backup. On the field. With your girl.”
I laugh. “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better.”
“She doesn’t want you. You’re just a rebound.”
“That’s not what she told me when I made her come,” I taunt, ready for whatever he’s about to throw my way.
He shoves me hard in the chest. I stagger back, my heart racing. The chatter around us fades out as they sense the tension in the air. I drag a breath in through my nostrils, trying to rein in my anger when all I want to do is slam my fist in his face. He shoves me again but I’m expecting it. I brace myself and push back at him. I can tell he wasn’t expecting that.
Our teammates close in around us just as Brett takes a swing at me. I duck out of the way and the punch misses me. Seeing red, I lunge forward, ready to rip his goddamn head off. We lock up, grappling for the upper hand. I sweep his feet from under him and slam him to the ground. I’m about to draw back my fist when I’m lifted off him and to my feet. “Let me go,” I shout, trying to shake off the hold.
“Settle down.” I recognize the voice as belonging to Thor. He squeezes my shoulder and leans in closer. “He’s not worth it.”
I glance at Brett, who’s now being held back by one of our linemen. He sends me a dark glare, making me wish Thor hadn’t pulled me off before I got that punch off.
Coach Chubb steps into the middle of the circle. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Nothing important,” Brett says.
“You’re goddamn right it’s not important. Are you here to play football, Barlow, or to fight with your teammates?”
“To play football,” he answers.
“Are you performing so well that you have time to waste on bullshit?” He directs this question at Brett too.
“No, Coach.”
