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My stomach took a sudden, sickening dive. The thought of Santiago handcuffed, of his life being ruined because of this... it made my chest tighten. I sure wanted to see him in handcuffs, but not like that. I couldn't let the cops arrest him.

“This is just proof for the board,” I interrupted quickly, stepping into Sam’s space to emphasize my point. “To show them it wasn’t me. Someone targeted me because I’m the best anchor this offensive line has. And that’s exactly how I’m going to clear my name.”

“Someone? You know damn well who.”

“It doesn’t matter. The more I drag Sig into this, the bigger hole I dig for myself. The audio may be AI, but it’s not a lie.”

“Stop it, George. Don’t repeat that shit.” Sam looked back to make sure no one was listening.

“Yeah, you're right. What I meant is, all I need to do is clear my name and everything will be fine.”

“Brooks, I talked to coach. We are all with you. No one is kicking you out of the team. In fact, Coach lectured everyone before you arrived to never mention that audio ever again. But clearing your name for good for the NFL without having Santiago arrested? How exactly are you going to do that?”

I shrugged, a cold determination settling over me as I thought about the field. “By playing the game, Sam. I talked to the PR manager. He’s going to flip the script and use this attack to build my brand. Sometimes a controversy is exactly what gets you noticed by the scouts. All eyes are already on me anyway. All I have to do now is play damn good.”

Sam stared at me for a beat, evaluating the look in my eyes. Slowly, a massive grin broke across his face. He brought down a heavy fist, slamming it into my shoulder.

“I like this confidence. Welcome back, brother!”

The blow rattled my frame, but it felt good. Solid. Sam always had my back; he’d stuck his neck out to keep me on this roster when the board wanted me gone. I wasn’t going to let him down. But I wasn't going to humiliate Sig, either.

“I just got the game plan for you,” Sam said.

“Ridgeback?” I asked.

He nodded. “I hear Pavel is the scouts' new favorite. All eyes are on him. Defeat him and you've got your spot.”

“Maxim Pavel?” I asked. “He’s giving up twenty pounds to me.” I grinned, and Sam chuckled.

“You’ve got it, buddy. Let’s make you shine.” We shared a quick, tight hug.

If I was going to win this, I was going to do it on the gridiron.

Chapter Seven

George

My eyes followed Sig as he walked across campus, sipping his iced coffee. He looked gorgeous; the sharp, perfect liner around his eyes creating a striking contrast against his light irises. He looked as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just let a man humiliate and batter him; something he clearly enjoyed.

“Brooks!” Greg shouted.

Sig raised his beautiful lashes to look at me, his brow furrowing into a frown.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I called back to Greg, holding Sig’s gaze for one last heavy second before turning toward the team bus.

The ride to Wexford North was long and uncomfortable, especially with my mind constantly dragging me back to Sig, to his vulnerability and his nakedness. When we finally arrived, the air was cold and sharp, like inhaling broken glass. My breath billowed out in thick white clouds inside my visor. The turf beneath our cleats was frozen solid, hard as asphalt.

Next to me, Sam Howard was already locked in. As our center and team captain, Sam was shorter than me, but the guy was built like a brick wall and moved with the speed of a linebacker. We’d been playing together since our days at Kings Shield; I knew his cadences better than my own heartbeat.

"Listen up!" Sam barked, his voice cutting through the freezing wind as he tapped his chest pads. "Watch the twist on the left side! George, you and me, we lock this down!"

I nodded, adjusting my stance. At six-five tall, I towered over the defensive line, a massive wall of muscle guarding the edge. Across from me, Ridgeback’s star defensive end, a monster named Pavel, stared up at me. He’d been talking trash all week in the local papers about how he was going to expose me after the scandal. But standing across from me now, looking up at my frame, I caught the slight hesitation in his eyes.

Behind us, our quarterback, Scott William, clapped his hands, his voice echoing over the crowd. "Blue, eighty! Blue, eighty! Hut... HUT!"

Sam snapped the ball with lightning-fast precision, immediately engaging the nose tackle.

At the same instant, Pavel exploded off the line, trying to use his speed to bend around my outside shoulder and get a clean run at Scott William’s blind side.