Double Daddy Trouble

??It’s ok whatever you tell me. I won't be upset or offended. I just need to know. It would be a huge help.”

She pressed her lips together. I didn't know anything about Candy’s skills. She was pleasant, and pretty. That might’ve been the only qualification my grandfather cared about. But while I was here I might as well check on her perspective. She was a part of this organization too. She knew everyone who ever stepped foot in this building.

“I don't know how to answer that,” she admitted. She shrugged her shoulders. “I don't really think about the money I make working in the office.”

“What do you mean? You get a paycheck, don’t you?”

“There are a lot of perks for working with the football team. I’m here because I love all the benefits.” She grinned widely. “I’m not here for the paycheck.”

It took me a second to realize what she was saying. “Ohh. You mean...” I immediately blushed, feeling naïve.

Candy giggled. “I’m happy to tell you more, but maybe we should just leave it at that.”

I nodded, suddenly uncomfortable and feeling more out of my element than ever. She basically admitted that she was here to sleep with players and accept gifts and money from them. What kind of world had I landed in?

“I think that's best.”

“I’ll be back with lunch. Hopefully no one will bother you while I'm gone. I left my number on the desk if you need me.”

“Thank you, Candy.”

I slumped in my chair, knowing I was drowning. Nothing made sense and I had no idea how to swim in water this deep.

Five

Dylan

There weren’t many people in this world who could relate to my life. To know what it meant to be a football god. To understand the pressure. The physical stamina it took to perform at the highest level every day my cleats crossed onto the damn field. The moment the chalky lines coated my shoes.

But there was one. One man who got it. Who knew what I knew about the toll the game took on my body. Who knew how the sweat was more than physical exertion.

He didn’t give a shit about the trouble I got in off the field. He didn’t care about how many women I fucked, or how many nights I didn’t go home. He didn’t give me shit about anything. The man was my best friend for a reason. He let me live my life the way I wanted—wide open.

I knew Isaac planned on meeting with the new ownership today. That was just like him. He always had to have the first say.

I shook my head. The locker room was full of bullshit talk. Guys had been worked up for two weeks. Some wanted to leave the team. They didn't want to give ownership a chance to screw them over again. They couldn’t see any other path other than to quit.

I wasn’t wired like that. Quitting wasn’t in my vocabulary. Never had been. I liked winning at all costs.

I knew what I wanted to do. Whether or not, I could pull it off was another story.

I liked being a Warrior. I’ll rephrase that. I fucking loved being a Warrior. It was the only team I had ever played for. It was the only jersey I had ever wanted to wear. Growing up in College Station, it felt as if the Warriors were the home team. They were less than two hours away. Sure, some kids loved the Wranglers, but we weren’t one of those families. San Antonio was almost too far for a game-day drive. We were Warriors fans and that was the one place I had to play.

On game day, my dad hung the team flag in the yard. It didn’t matter that it was tattered and the colors started to run together from being left out in the rain. He put it up, no matter the weather.

They knew the colors. They knew the chants. They knew the leading scorers and retired jerseys, but what did my parents know about contracts? How did a ten-year-old boy know he had fallen in love with a broken program, a team that had never been on track? I didn’t know shit until the day I walked in the locker room.

I was drafted from college. As far as anyone knew, I was living the Texas football dream. My parents couldn’t be prouder that a boy from College Station could play for the Austin Warriors. The family team. Texas’s team.

I was a dick about a lot of things, but I wasn’t going to crush my mom’s pride with the truth. I kept them in the dark about the organization. I wasn’t going to kill the dream with honesty.

My phone buzzed. I looked down at the text from Isaac.

Meeting went well, fill you in later.

That's all it said. He was usually short on words, but what the hell? He met with ownership and couldn’t tell me what happened?

It was time I took fate by the balls. There was a small window of opportunity to get what I wanted. I threw my helmet in the locker. It landed on the floor with a thud.