The Way We Play (Bradford Boys #2)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Garrett

“ Y ou’re still reading Frankenstein ?” My little sister Dylan plops down beside me on the lawn separating the two buildings of our high school. “You’ve had it a month.”

“I thought it would be more interesting, you know, being monsters and all.” I groan, turning the skinny paperback in my hands. “It’s all thoughts and feelings and boring as hell.”

It’s spring, although it’s still early enough in the year to be cool in the afternoons in south Alabama—meaning it’s mid-80s with a light, coastal breeze. I’ve got my back against a sprawling live oak that’s probably one hundred years old, and I look up at the two-story, brick buildings surrounding us.

On the south side are the seventh through ninth grade classes, and on the west are the sophomores through seniors.

Dylan’s finishing her freshman year, and she’s acting all superior. She’s at the top rung of a mid-level holding pen just waiting to move to the bottom again.

I’m at the very top, graduating senior, fielding offers from colleges that will give me a free ride, regardless of my grades, just as long as I join the team and take them to the national championships.

Hell, some are even offering me under the table deals.

None of it matters, I’m going to Tuscaloosa, where I’ll be a starting offensive lineman for the Tide.

I glance at the door-stop in her hand. “What’s that you’re reading?”

“The newest Dragon Lovers book.” She does a little shiver, opening the black book covered in gold, swirling letters and elaborate borders to the middle. “It’s not boring at all .”

I hold my skinny book next to hers, and she’s already read two times as much as I have. “Damn, Dee. What makes you such a nerd? If you came at me with that thing, I’d run.”

“I’m not a nerd!” She shoves my shoulder as hard as she can, but I don’t move.

Dylan is five-foot-four, and with all the ballet dancing she does, she weighs about fifteen pounds soaking wet. I’m clocking in at six-foot-four, 250 pounds if I don’t stop eating.

I never stop eating.

“Is Frankenstein even 200 pages long?” She squints an eye at me. “Wimp.”

“I’m not like you and Zane. I don’t like to read.”

“I think you haven’t found the right book.” She gets on her knees getting all excited like she does. “Reading is like movies in your head, only you get to decide how everyone sounds and looks and?—”

“Whatever.”

She exhales a little laugh. “You’re graduating soon. Just DNF it.”

“What’s that?”

“Did Not Finish.”

“What? I’m no quitter. I’m going to finish this thing.” I lift the skinny book and slowly read each word on the page. “He’s so damn whiny. ”

Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change…

Shrugging, I guess that’s true for some people, but I’ve always been one to roll with the punches, like the tide.

And our family has been hit with some hard changes, starting with the death of our mom a few years ago. It hurt like hell, but watching her suffer through cancer hurt more.

We held onto each other through that big wave. Then our dad died of a broken heart soon after, although there were pretty clear signs of chronic traumatic encephalopathy or CTE, the football disease. We didn’t realize how much Mom had covered for him until she was gone.

He was never officially diagnosed, but our dad spent years as the star quarterback for the Texas Mustangs. He took a lot of hits before he retired and moved his little family to this small town on the coast. My two youngest siblings weren’t even born yet.

Losing both of them so fast was like trying to survive a Category 5 hurricane, which we’ve also done here. Our little community banded around us like they always do, helping our family stay together through the storm surge.

When he was alive, Dad passed his football legacy on to all of his sons, teaching us the game and opening doors for us where he could. Our oldest brother Jack took his place as the star quarterback for Texas.

He’s there now, but even two states away, he manages to keep up with his younger siblings back home.

Our second-oldest brother Zane, is being courted by all the big teams, while I’m gearing up for college. My little brother Hendrix is only a year older than Dylan, but he’s the most like Dad when it comes to the love of the game.

When Hendrix was a little boy, he’d sleep with his head on a football as a pillow. Now he’s a star on our high school team along with me, and I expect he’ll be joining me in Tuscaloosa in a few years as well .

Dylan’s back is against my side, and she’s turning pages twice as fast as I am. I’m about to pull her long brunette ponytail, when I hear the voice that warms my body from my stomach to my toes.

“It came!” Olivia “Liv” Bankston runs up the sidewalk to where we’re sitting, waving a large, white envelope over her head.

She skids to a stop, dropping to her knees in front of us, and Dylan jumps up just as fast, leaning in to see what my girlfriend is holding.

Liv’s strawberry blonde hair falls over her shoulders in soft waves, and she’s wearing a tennis dress in her signature color, cherry-red. You’d think it wouldn’t work with her hair and skin so fair, but she looks really hot all the time.

I fell in love with her freshman year, when she came back from drill-team camp four inches taller, curves in all the right places, and legs for days.

Okay, looking back, I fell in lust, I’ll admit it. We’d known each other since we were kids, but she’d never looked like that. A little while later, she noticed me, and well, the rest, as they say, is history.

We’ve been inseparable ever since, sharing everything, all our firsts, all our hopes, all our dreams and fears. Nobody but Liv saw me cry when we lost Mom and Dad. She held me in her arms, kissing my temple and soothing me with her cool hands and her warm body.

Nobody comforts me the way Liv can.

We’re the corny, stereotypical football player boyfriend and dance-line captain girlfriend. Hell, I see myself marrying this girl, and I feel fine.

“It’s the big envelope.” Her hazel eyes are wide. “That’s a good sign, right?”

“That’s what they say.” Dylan is at her shoulder, her brown eyes blinking excitedly. “Open it!”

“What is it? ”

“I hope it’s my invitation to audition, which essentially means I’m in. I got my college acceptance letter last week.”

I scoot forward so her slim body is in the cave of my arms as she tears the top off the envelope. I’m frowning, expecting to see the signature crimson A logo. Instead I’m confused to see purple and gold.

The pages are out, and she jumps up so fast, I barely have a chance to register the glossy photo of a girl with long blonde hair on the cover in a white one-piece leotard with a sparkling gold fleur de lis outlined in purple on the front.

“This is it!” She screams, jumping up and down, her face shining with tears. “It’s my invitation!”

Dylan is on her feet as well, jumping up and down beside her, holding her arm. Liv is three inches taller as she leans down to hug my sister.

“I have to submit a video audition no longer than one minute…” She’s reading the requirements, but I’m confused as hell.

“Switch leap, switch arabesque…” Dylan reads along with her. “I can help you with all of this. Pirouettes are easy.”

“Easy for you, Miss Balanchine.”

“I don’t think there was ever a Miss Balanchine.” Dylan’s nose wrinkles, and they laugh.

“This is for LSU.” My brow furrows, and I feel like a rug has been pulled out from under me. “Why are you auditioning to be a Golden Girl?”

Liv blinks wide eyes up at me. “Because I want to join the Texas professional cheerleaders after college.”

“So be a Crimsonette.”

“Garrett.” Her chin pulls back, and she grimaces like I suggested she go to clown college. “The Golden Girls are the best, most historic precision dance line in the SEC.”

My stomach twists as my lips curl in disgust. “But it’s LSU .”

Dylan gives Liv’s hand a squeeze before stepping back and grabbing her book, and I’m pretty sure she can sense my mood.

She’s leaving us alone.

“I’ve got to meet Craig. We’re supposed to be practicing this afternoon. See ya, Liv. See ya, Grizz.”

Grizz . Short for Grizzly , because I’m a bear. Only, I don’t feel like a bear. I feel like a dog who’s just been kicked. Hard. I’ve got the wind knocked out of me, and I’m wondering if I’m the last person to know about this.

“How long have you been planning this?” I hear the confusion, the pain in my voice.

Liv blinks up at me, her pretty hazel eyes wide and pleading. “I applied to all the state schools back in March, but Grizz, you’ve known what I want to do. It’s never been a secret.”

Reaching up, I trace my finger across her cheek, moving a lock of soft red hair behind her ear. Her slim palms are on my chest, and I move my hands to her waist, pulling her closer to my body.

“I never knew you wanted to go to Baton Rouge.”

“You could come with me. You have your pick of teams.”

I almost laugh. “I can’t play for the Tigers. I grew up hating those guys.”

“You don’t have to hate them. It’s only football.”

It’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone. It’s like I’ve spent the last four years believing one thing, and I’m waking up to discover everyone else believed something completely opposite.

Liv has been a given in my life so long, I can’t even imagine myself without her.

“What about us?” My voice softens. “Don’t you love me?”

I think about every time I’ve held her in my arms. I think about all the times I’ve devoured her lips, the taste of cherry lip gloss on my tongue. I think about her long legs straddling my waist, sitting in the driver’s seat of my truck, her beautiful hair falling around us as I pulled a hard nipple into my mouth. I think of the two of us holding each other so tight as she came apart on my cock, and I lost myself deep in her warm body. So many times, I’ve lost count.

Beyond that, I think of being wrapped in a blanket with her at a bonfire with all our friends, cheering for our home team, prepping for the big games, homecoming, state champs.

I think of her soft lips whispering in my ear, I love you …

She’s always been my forever.

“Of course, I love you.” Her eyes flicker to her hands, and she blinks fast. “It’s only four years. If we’re really meant to be together, we can make it work long distance.”

“But it’s the best four years.” My voice is soft, pleading. “I don’t want to make those memories without you.”

Her eyes lift to mine, and it hurts so much. My dream since I was a little boy—or a smaller human, since I was never really little—was to play for the Tide. I grew up in a house of houndstooth and crimson.

Her dream has always been to be a dancer. Not like Dylan’s dreams of New York and the American Ballet Company. No, my girl wants to be a show-stopper. She’s fierce and sexy.

She’s leaving me.

Lifting her hand, she puts a palm against my cheek. “I promise, we can make this work. We just have to believe we can.”

I don’t want to believe. I don’t want to work hard. I want her with me always. I don’t want to let her go.

Dropping my chin, I know that makes me sound like a child. “Of course I believe we can. We’ll FaceTime and call and text and do what it takes.”

“We’ll both be so busy, you with practice and games, and me with practice and games.” Her lips tremble as she forces a smile, and a crystal tear hits her cheek when she blinks. “You have to believe we can do this, Garret. If you don’t believe in us…”

An ache grips my throat, and I slide my hand in the back of her hair, pulling her closer into a tight hug.

“I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, Liv.” Thickness is in my voice. “If that doesn’t mean we can make it, I don’t know what does.”

“We’ll be together when you join Jack and me in Texas. It’s only for a little while.”

It’s only for a little while.

That’s what we promised each other…

The Way We Score (link) is coming to Kindle Unlimited and Duet Audio January 10…

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