Read Wrapped Up: A Triple Threat Sports Romance Online
Authors: Lexi Cross
Wrapped Up: A Triple Threat Sports Romance
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.
Wrapped Up copyright 2016 by Lexi Cross. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.
“Now, as you all know, we’re under new ownership,” Coach Hawkins said at the start of our first meeting of the season. His voice was heavy, as if he wasn’t happy about what he was telling us.
It was the first day of training, and the entire team was crammed into the small meeting room, including the new guys, many of whom probably wouldn’t make it through the first week. I stood along the wall with Lucky and Harley. We exchanged glances as Coach opened the meeting in his foreboding tone.
“Now, as you may also know, Mr. Clark is very conservative and has his own ideas about how we should be running the show,” Coach continued.
The sense of dread in his voice seemed to be settling on the rest of the room now. I could feel the energy of the rest of the team changing. Coach hadn’t actually said anything yet, and he was already killing the mood. The first day was supposed to be exciting, and maybe a little scary for the new guys. It wasn’t supposed to crush our spirits.
“Seeing as you’re all professionals here, Mr. Clark wants to portray a different image to the public than what has become popular in the league over the last few years.”
I looked at the kicker and quarterback standing next to me and cocked an eyebrow. What was this guy talking about? As long as we won games and packed the stands, who cared about what
image
we presented to the public? They loved us!
“Mr. Clark believes you should be positive role models for your fans.”
The room groaned. Eyes rolled. Our teammates started protesting. No one liked that term—
role model
. It seemed like it was only ever thrown around by people who didn’t know what it took to keep up team morale, to win games, or to bring home championships. Someone was always saying we needed to be better behaved. It was a sport, for crying out loud! A game. If they wanted role models, they had teachers, preachers, and parents for that.
I kept my mouth shut. Lucky and Harley stayed silent as well. We’d been around long enough to know that by the end of the season, the new owner would be so distracted by our record that he’d forget all about his little role model idea.
Coach kept talking over the groans and protests. “We’ve had some problems with the playboy lifestyle across the league in general, and on this team in particular. Mr. Clark isn’t going to tolerate it any longer. He wants a positive image. When our fans turn on the TV and see us both on and off the field, he wants them to see more than just star athletes. We need to be model citizens.”
“Alright, Coach, but what does that look like?” I asked him, my voice booming over the hum of protests and complaints. I got everyone’s attention by speaking up and asking a question instead of trying to fight with him.
Coach Hawkins shook his head and laughed. “Of all people to ask that question, it had to be you. Well, I guess if anyone needs to know, it would be you.”
I let the verbal jab slide. The three of us against the wall had all been in trouble at different points with more lenient owners, managers, and coaches over some of our personal choices off the field. In the culture of constant and immediate news coverage, it was getting harder and harder to keep certain behaviors under the radar. It wasn’t uncommon now for paparazzi to snap a picture of the girl leaving the hotel room the morning after a game and have it on the internet in a matter of moments, before the player could stop them. Now everything made the news because it didn’t take any time to get it published. At the same time, there was the theory that no publicity was bad publicity.
“First off, I have to tell you all about our new dress code. Jake, Lucky, Harley, you don’t have to worry about this one so much. You guys usually fit right in line with this anyway.” He looked directly at us as he spoke, but that meant everyone else did, too.
“Thanks, Coach,” I said, overplaying my gratitude to let him know I didn’t appreciate being used as an example for such an unpopular idea with the rest of the team.
“As for the rest of you, if you don’t know what I mean, Mr. Clark wants us to dress professionally off the field. On the field isn’t a problem, because you’ll be in uniform or in your practice uniforms. Off the field, however, you are not to be caught in public in your gym clothes or street clothes. In fact, street clothes are gone.”
A hand went up in the back. “So, business casual? What does he mean by dressing professionally?” a voice called. Everyone laughed, of course, not realizing it was an honest question.
“For now, I want to show our new owner and his family that we are on board. You are to wear business suits any time you are not at practice, on the field, or at the gym,” Coach answered sternly.
He was met with more groans. I looked at Lucky and Harley. We wore dress shirts with flared collars and slacks. Our sleeves were rolled back to give our clothes a more casual look, but we looked more like we could have been owners of the team instead of just players on the field.
That was because we were definitely players on the field, in every sense of the word. I dressed the way I did because it showed off how successful I was, and I liked the way it showed off the curves of my muscular chest, arms, and back. I didn’t understand our teammates who dressed down when they weren’t on the field. With the amount of money we made, it felt almost like a duty to attract women who were worth our bankrolls. And those women didn’t flock to men in t-shirts and ripped jeans.
“But there’s more,” Coach added, almost reluctantly, and that was when he dropped the bomb on us. “Mr. Clark wants everyone to drop all these girls you have around the team. He wants his team to look responsible and clean. Each of you is required to at least pick up a steady girlfriend. You are to maintain the appearance of a healthy, steady relationship for at least the duration of the season. No more bouncing from one girl to the next. And if you find one you want to marry, that would be even better.”
“What the hell does he think this is?” Lucky hissed under his breath.
One of the guys got up and made a show of leaving the room. It was one of the new recruits, fresh out of college.
Welcome to the pros, kid
. I didn’t expect him to come back.
“Anyone who wants to continue their reckless, irresponsible lifestyle will be traded to another team at the first possible opportunity,” Coach finished, leveling his eyes right at Lucky.
Harley and I chuckled and nudged him with our elbows. Despite himself, Coach let an amused grin cross his face briefly. We all knew Lucky was going to have the hardest time keeping in line with these new requirements.
Then, in an unprecedented move, something I hadn’t seen in any of my years playing, Coach sighed and told us, “That’s it for now, guys. I think I’ve given you a lot to think about today. Let’s call it a day. If you want to go out and run drills, the field is open. Otherwise, I don’t care what you do. I will suggest taking today to think about what I’ve told you. That is all.”
It was then that we could see he felt pretty much the same way the rest of us did about his announcement. He tucked his clipboard under his arm and walked out of the room through the front door, leaving us all to sit and stare at each other for a few moments before we started pouring out through the back of the room.
I looked at Harley and Lucky and sighed. “We need to talk,” I told them.
They nodded in agreement, and we snuck off to a private office where we could sit down without anyone listening to our conversation.
“He’s going to ruin everything we’ve built,” Lucky complained.
“Cade, calm down,” Harley said forcefully, using Lucky’s real name to let the kicker know he was being serious.
“So, what do we do? It’s the beginning of the season, and if we’re not careful, Lucky’s right, this is going to wreck everything we’ve worked for,” I told Harley as I sat behind the desk.
“We keep working, but we do so quietly, just like we’ve always done. We just have to be more discreet with the girls,” Harley recommended.
Our
work
was a network of league players, a sort of league mafia. We had some of the most influential players on the field working together to sway the draft, trades, stats, and even the outcomes of certain games to help steer the season. There was a lot of money in controlling the numbers. That money also meant that the network passed along drugs, girls, and other contraband items players may have needed to continue meeting the intense physical and mental demands of professional football.
“So what you’re saying is we need to go even further underground than we already are,” I said back to Harley, letting the idea sink in.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Even though staying in the game was Harley’s idea, both of the guys looked to me for the final say. I could see it in their eyes. They weren’t completely sure if it was going to work.
“Alright, let’s do it,” I finally said.
“Excellent,” Lucky said, and I could see the relief washing over both of them.
“But we’ve got to be more careful because I’m sure Mr. Clark is going to have eyes and ears on us all the time. He’ll at least be watching the news for any signs that we’ve been led astray, so let’s keep any activity out of the public eye. I mean, we do that anyway, but we can’t even be seen meeting with guys in the network anymore,” I said, explaining my thoughts to them.
“What about girls?”
“Lucky, I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to maintain appearances with steady girlfriends. I don’t care if you have to find a friend who will just attend events with you or go out to eat with you on occasion, but we can’t be seen living it up anymore,” I told him.
That was when the thought first occurred to me to get a fake girlfriend. It wouldn’t just work for Lucky, I realized. It would work for all three of us.
“A fake girlfriend.” Lucky nodded thoughtfully. “How do I do that? I don’t know any girls who can stand me long enough to even play pretend like that.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Harley groaned.
“We’ll use the network. I’m sure there’s someone out there who would be satisfied just posing as a pro athlete’s girl. There will be plenty of press coverage, too, so she’ll be able to get her big break,” I joked.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Lucky agreed.
“Careful,” Harley warned.
“Aren’t I always? But it’s something to think about, man. Fake girlfriends may be the way to go, especially if it’s someone who doesn’t mind just posing so they can get some attention on themselves, too. Who knows, we may end up launching some celebrities this way.” I laughed at the thought. Before I was willing to go through our partners to try to find a girl to pose as mine, I wanted to look for someone real first.
“Look, we’ve been in here long enough,” Harley said suddenly, nervous.
“Yeah, let’s get out of here before this new guy gets suspicious and sends someone in to find out what we’re up to,” I agreed.
As we left the office, Lucky grabbed my arm. “I’m serious about the network girl.”
We all laughed, making it look like he’d told a joke as a couple of training staff members walked past us in the hallway.
“I got it. Besides, we have to lead the team in this. I’m sure Coach wants to see that we’re on top of things right away,” I told him. We had led the team in debauchery so far, so maybe we could lead them in virtue.
Nobody was looking forward to giving up the party lifestyle the team had enjoyed for so long. It was a blessing to have the rest of the day off to formulate a plan.