Ex-quarterback Davis Abernathy knows he’s on his last chance.
If he strikes out as Paxton Kelly’s coach, nobody else is going to call him. Not to get back on the field, and not to stand on the sidelines.
He’s got a lot to teach Pax, and as a second-year quarterback, Pax has a lot to learn. But Davis doesn’t anticipate the irresistible way they’ll be drawn together from their first meeting. He never could have predicted such a fierce and uncontrollable yearning—or that Pax would feel the same.
It should be easy to remember rules aren’t meant to be broken, and certain lines aren’t meant to be crossed, but the only thing that’s easy is falling totally, completely in love with Pax.
As Davis falls harder, Pax succeeding becomes just as important—and maybe more so—than resurrecting his own career. If he messes this up, his last chance isn’t all he’ll be sacrificing.
What he should be is focused on being the perfect mentor. But what he wants Pax is in his bed, Pax in his life, and more impossibly, to win Pax’s heart forever.
Winning the Season #4
Summary:Coach Asa Dawson has fallen wildly in love only twice in his life.
First with football.
Then with Scott Callaway.
But Scott isn’t just the one who got away.
He’s the one person—the one man—Asa hoped might finally show him how all-consuming passion could be.
Instead, fate (and football) intervened and they never got the chance to explore their attraction. Their friendship ended in ruins, Scott left, and Asa’s been torn between hating him and loving him for the last seven years.
Asa doesn’t think he’ll ever see him again, but when his bad habits catch up to him and he doesn’t have a choice but to accept help, he’s horrified—and exhilarated—to learn Scott’s been hired to assist him.
With the final stretch of the Piranhas season falling during the holidays, maybe what Asa and Scott have needed this whole time was a little Christmas magic to remind them the most important job isn’t to win the season—but to finally win each other’s hearts.
Kenyon Ellis knows getting involved with Julian Anderson is an enormous mistake—but from the very first night, he finds him annoying, intriguing and ultimately, irresistible.
One, Kenyon is a player, and Julian is a reporter, so hooking up with him, no matter how spectacular the nights are, is a terrible idea.
Two, he’s falling for him, even if Julian continues to be prickly and impossible. But every time Julian’s walls shift, Kenyon sees the real man behind the attitude, and he only wants more.
Three, between the Piranhas and the charity work he’s committed to, Kenyon really doesn’t have the time for a relationship—but a relationship with Julian turns out to be exactly what he wants.
Maybe even exactly what he needs.
But when Julian starts calling out his performance on the field, the last thing Kenyon expects is to feel betrayed. But is it betrayal? Or does Julian simply see something in Kenyon he’s lost along the way?
The answer leads him not only to love, but to the biggest crossroads of his life.
The fifth and final Miami Piranhas book.
Playing by the Rules #3
“Well, you get bored in Carolina, you can always stay with me,” Pax said, turning towards him.
Even though that hadn’t been the thing he’d intended to say at all.
“You’re staying in a hotel,” Davis said, quietly amused.
“When I buy something in Miami, that’s what I meant,” Pax said. He hadn’t even thought about it, he just knew he didn’t want Davis to go just yet.
He wasn’t a lifeline, not exactly, because Pax didn’t like to think he’d been drowning, but whatever Davis was, he made life easier. He made Pax smile. He made Pax want to be better. He also made Pax want to be not good at all.
Davis reached over and he was roughly tugging him into a hug before Pax could acclimate himself to the idea that it was going to happen.
They touched, because football players were all a touchy-feely bunch, but they’d never embraced like this.
Pax expected it to be quick and fleeting, not quite enough to get more than a vague impression of Davis’ body pressed against his. But then Davis, unexpectedly, lingered.
Maybe he didn’t want to let go either.
Whichever it was, Pax’s fingers dug into Davis’ shoulders, and for a single forbidden second, he breathed in the smell of him, trying to memorize everything about him.
This was the very opposite of what he should be doing—trying to forget, trying to move past this ill-advised crush—but Pax also hadn’t expected it to feel this good, either.
“You need me,” Davis said, his voice quiet but gruff, “I’m here for you, okay?”
Pax’s fingers tightened, but Davis didn’t seem in any particular hurry to move either. His palm was big and warm on his back, and it hadn’t moved, but Pax could imagine, so fucking easily, how it might feel to have it stroke him, in long, comforting sweeps.
How it might turn into something else, just as easy as breathing.
He pulled back, letting go even as his body protested.
Davis’ eyes were so deep and blue, and Pax couldn’t look away.
It was funny, how Pax had never looked at Davis Abernathy before the last few days and thought, oh, he’s hot, he’s really fucking hot, but now he couldn’t think anything else.
Before they’d met, he’d just been another guy, another quarterback, and he’d barely thought twice about him, except, Pax supposed, to feel sorry for him.
If he’d thought about attractive quarterbacks, there was always Sam Crawford, who probably could’ve been a model in a different timeline. Or even Heath Harris, his boyfriend, if you liked that stern tough type.
Davis wasn’t a model and he wasn’t a hot asshole either.
He was just himself, and seemingly by being just that, he was irresistible.
“If you need me,” Pax said quietly, “I’m here for you, too.”
Winning the Season #4
August
“Goddamn, that feels good.”
It looked good.
Asa swallowed hard and watched as Scott lay back and let the water envelop his big body, his black boxer briefs soaking and clinging to his legs, to his waist, to . . . goddamn, Asa reminded himself, you’re not gonna think about his cock.
But he was. Inevitably.
It had been Scott’s idea to go to the quarry, to take a cool dip after practice.
He knew it wasn’t possible, but it felt like this was the most bare skin of Scott’s he’d seen since January, since the night they won the National Championship, and he’d been rocked on his heels by this crazy attraction he still couldn’t explain.
“Uh, yeah, it does.” Asa slipped his feet in, and then let the rest of him follow, hoping that the water might cool him down enough so he wouldn’t feel like he was ten seconds away from exploring what Scott’s slick, wet skin might feel like against his palms.
He stayed underwater for ten seconds, then twenty, and finally raised his head, spluttering and pushing his hair back as the water cascaded off his face.
It was August, so it was always busy here at the quarry, but it was a weeknight, so while there were a few pockets of what looked to be teenagers, they were mostly alone.
In his head, Asa imagined that was why Scott had suggested they come.
More and more it felt like they were both finding excuses to be alone.
Nothing happened, but Asa felt like they were teetering there, right on the brink.
Scott flipped onto his back and did a lazy backstroke around Asa. “You think the team’s lookin’ okay?”
“You know I think so.” Asa had said it to them, even, after practice today. He wasn’t stingy with praise—he’d found you could trap so many more flies with honey than with vinegar, a fact that many college and NFL coaches had yet to realize despite all the evidence to the contrary—but he did like to hold back, especially in the early parts of the season. Too much praise, and the kids wouldn’t work hard enough.
And, someone might realize that all his gruff exterior was hiding was a bleeding heart.
Sure, he wanted to win.
But more than that, he wanted these kids to succeed at whatever they set their minds to. Maybe it was football. Maybe it wasn’t. As the years went by, Asa discovered that it mattered less and less to him if it wasn’t actually football.
Sure, the national titles felt good. The acclaim felt fucking wonderful. But now that he’d amassed all of those, he’d discovered the bragging rights didn’t mean much.
“Yeah, I think Marcus is even gonna give up his dream of setting the sack record,” Scott said, his smile glimmering in the dusk.
Asa rolled his eyes, kicking his legs to stay afloat. The quarry was deep. Even with their height, neither of them had any chance of touching the bottom.
“That kid is gonna be the death of me,” he said. It was true though, with Scott’s patience, and Asa’s tenacity, they might actually convince the guy to play well enough to make the first team.
“It’s always tough when there’s that much potential,” Scott said.
Half the time now, it felt like they were talking in double speak.
Were they talking about Marcus still? Or had they moved into deeper waters? Asa didn’t know. If he asked, then it would be out in the open, and while he felt . . . less terrified . . . of that possibility, was he ready for it yet? Was the reward finally greater than the risk?
“A lot of risk. But then there’s the upside, if it works out,” Asa agreed quietly.
Playing Deep #5
This was usually when Kenyon got dressed and left, but to Julian’s surprise, he walked into the bathroom, still gloriously naked, and leaned against the doorjamb. “Maybe it’s not just sex,” he said. “You know people do that, things that aren’t sex.”
This sounded like a risky line of conversation.
Julian could see danger signs and flashing red lights everywhere.
The only question was why Kenyon didn’t just leave it alone.
He pulled the shower curtain back and got in, putting his head under the hot water, but annoyingly it didn’t clear his head.
“You looking for satisfaction somewhere else?” Julian asked, raising his voice so Kenyon could hear him over the water.
He could still see the faint outline of Kenyon through the shower curtain.
He hadn’t moved.
“You know I’m not,” Kenyon said. “How could I possibly?” He sounded frustrated, like he knew Julian had purposefully misunderstood what he was asking.
“Yeah, I guess, maybe he’s wildly in love with someone. That happens. I know it happens.” To other people.
“I used to think that’d take up a lot of time, that wildly-in-love thing,” Kenyon said. “But then I started hooking up with you, and it’s not like that doesn’t take up a chunk of time.”
Julian finished washing up, but instead of getting out, he leaned against the cool shower wall. Hoping that it might resolve his conflicted heart. This wasn’t fair; Kenyon wasn’t being fair. Sure, he had these thoughts too, but he didn’t say them. That was against the unspoken rules they’d laid out, at the very beginning. Just fucking. No kissing. No cuddling. No talking.
No feelings.
Julian just hadn’t anticipated still doing it six months later or that after spending all this time together, even in bed, he’d like the guy so goddamned much.
Or that it might be mutual.
Nobody had ever really spent so much time with him before, even if it was between the sheets—or in hotels, or in janitor closets, or in empty classrooms—and still liked him at the end of it.
Julian didn’t know what to do with that particular fact.
“You’re being awfully quiet in there,” Kenyon said. “You drowning? Taking on water? Need a rescue?”
It was the last word that shook Julian out of his stupor.
No, he didn’t need a rescue.
After all, he’d promised Kenyon at the very beginning that he wouldn’t end up needing to be saved, or crying in his arms like some pathetic damsel in distress.
He shut the water off and tugged the curtain over.
“I’m fine,” Julian said. He pulled a towel from the rack and began drying off. “If you need more time for practice or for your foundation or something, you know you can take it.”
“I know I can,” Kenyon said. A little annoyed now. And yes, that was fair. Julian had deliberately misunderstood him.
“Good,” Julian said. “I’ve got to finish my story. Get it filed before tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair. I know how much you hate it when someone sits there and watches you type.”
There had been a night, not unlike this one, a few months back, when Julian had sent Kenyon the go-ahead text to come over, and then Nikki had assigned him a last-minute story.
“For good reason,” Julian said, toweling his hair off. “It’s incredibly annoying.”
“Apparently,” Kenyon grumbled. “I was silent.”
“Except your thoughts are really noisy,” Julian explained with a lopsided grin. “I told you this.”
Saturday Series Spotlight
Charleston Condors
The Rainbow Clause
A lifelong Pacific Northwester, Beth Bolden has just recently moved to North Carolina with her supportive husband. Beth still believes in Keeping Portland Weird, and intends to be just as weird in Raleigh.
Beth has been writing practically since she learned the alphabet. Unfortunately, her first foray into novel writing, titled Big Bear with Sparkly Earrings, wasn’t a bestseller, but hope springs eternal. She’s published twenty-three novels and seven novellas.
Playing Deep #5
Rainbow Clause
Los Angeles Riptide Series
