Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

Chapter 1

Ollie

My life could never get better than this.

Oliver Lance thought quietly to himself as he glanced around the VIP section of the club. He had a voluptuous blonde girl under one arm and a petite brunette under the other. He didn't really know either of them, since he had met them just five minutes before at the bar. But that really didn't bother him. Because in addition to the two beauties, he was surrounded by friends and fans, drinking expensive champagne and smoking expensive cigars. He felt like a god; powerful and loved by all.

“This is what it's all about,” he said out loud, though wasn't speaking directly to anyone.

“Hey, Ollie, how about another shot?”

His buddy, Joseph, shouted from the other side of the VIP section. He poured two shots of expensive tequila into glasses and handed one to Oliver.

“Sure, why not?” Oliver said, gladly accepting the glass.

“Cheers, bro,” Joseph said. “Here's to a career full of winning seasons.”

“Cheers,” Oliver echoed the sentiment and then drank down the clear liquor. “To winning everything professional football could throw at us this season!”

This was his night and he was living it up, sparing no expense. The tab was likely over two grand already, but he hadn't really been keeping much track. He didn't care. There was no need to. Between endorsements and his salary, he was making more money just sitting there than he could possibly spend. And it felt amazing.

The girls on either side of Oliver couldn't get their hands off of him. The blonde clamored over his lap and wrapped her arms over his shoulders. It made the brunette jealous and he heard as she whispered “bitch” underneath her breath. It only made him smile. He loved getting fought over by two beautiful women. He figured that it could never get old.

“Ladies, be nice,” he said, with a smirk. “There's plenty of me to go around.”

“It's not often we get to meet the star quarterback, though,” Blondie said. “An offensive lineman or a kicker, sure.

But not the star quarterback. This is a very special night.”

“Yeah, well, I'd like to order another bottle of champagne,” Oliver said, carefully lifting the blonde off of his lap and setting her to the side. “And you just insulted my team by saying that.”

She bit her lip and looked down at the floor.

“I'm just giving you a hard time,” Oliver said. “Ease up. You'll learn that I like to joke around a lot.”

Her smile returned and Oliver poured the two girls a glass of champagne each. Then he called for the waitress, who approached quickly.

“Three more bottles of Dom,” he said, as he pulled a wad of hundreds out of his front pocket. “And another bottle of Patron.”

Oliver handed her a handful of the bills, without even bothering to count.

“Keep the change,” was all he said.

A stray fan pushed past security. He was wearing a blue and white jersey with Oliver's number on it. He clamored over the velvet rope that separated the VIP section from the rest of the club. He knocked a few drinks over as he made his way toward Oliver.

What in the hell is this guy doing? Oliver asked himself.

“Lance,” the guy said, clearly inebriated. “Oliver Lance. You're my hero. Please sign my jersey. Please.”

Three security guys approached the man and grabbed his arms. They began to pull him away.

“Hold up,” Oliver said. “He just wants an autograph.”

Oliver stood up and quickly signed the back of the man's jersey, before motioning for security to finish what they had started.

“Thank you so much, Ollie,” the stranger said, as security pulled him back into the crowded club. “You just made my entire week!”

Oliver chuckled to himself, shaking his head. It happened every time he went anywhere. It didn't matter if he was at the grocery store, in line at the bank or just trying to walk his dog around the park. Inevitably, there would be a point when someone would come out of nowhere and run toward him, begging for his attention.

Typically, they'd want something as simple as an autograph. But he'd get other offers, too. It wasn't uncommon for a pretty girl to approach him and offer her bed up, which he was known to accept on occasion. He was living the kind of life most guys would only ever dream of and there was nothing in this world that was going to put an end to that. At least, not if Oliver had any say in it.

The booze was really kicking in now. He didn't know how many bottles of champagne they'd gone through, but it was a lot. His best friends were all drunk, at least from what he could tell. But they all seemed to be having a great time, which is what really mattered most to him. He'd spend a million dollars tonight if it meant that he and his team would have memories for a lifetime.

“Hey, Sean, why do you not have a drink in your hand?” Oliver looked toward his best receiver, who hadn't dropped the football once in three full seasons. He was Oliver's good friend and colleague, and the high respect he held for him was completely mutual.