Page 15 of Broken Saint

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Page 15 of Broken Saint

“Well, we’re fucked,” Kane says once the elevator doors close in front of us.

“Haven’t done too bad so far this season. Probably shouldn’t change things up now.”

“Did you just come up with an excuse to not get laid?” Luca asks, his brow wrinkling as if he just heard me wrong. “Who are you and what have you done with Colton ‘Playboy’ Rogers?”

“Just not feeling it.” I shrug.

“Aw,” Kane teases. “Our boy is growing up.”

We spill out onto our floor, marching toward our rooms. We take over this hotel every time we play at home, seeing as we’re expected to all be together. At this point, it’s almost as familiar as my own place.

“Have a good night,” I call, leaving them behind to escape to the safety of my room.

“Make sure you lube up,” Luca shouts. “We don’t want any blisters on those hands for tomorrow.”

Kane barks out a laugh as I flip them off and disappear into my room.

Assholes.

4

ELLA

Exhaustion engulfs my body. My sleepless night, the early morning, and then the delayed layover in San Francisco have left my body heavy and sluggish.

My chest, my limbs, everything aches.

Moving is an effort.

Not exactly how I wanted to turn up on my best friend’s doorstep. She’s more likely to be horrified to find me at her front door than she is surprised.

My cell burns a hole in my purse, but I’ve kept it turned off.

Mom will be going out of her mind. She’ll have messaged me this morning as she always does, and I won’t have responded. But it’s not her I’m avoiding; I’ll call her as soon as I can. It’s him. It’s the thought of there being nothing from him after all these hours, not noticing that I’ve left him and taken his stash of money with me. Was my presence in his life that small and meaningless?

A sob threatens to erupt as I sit in the back of the cab I hailed at the airport.

The commute to Letty and Kane’s new house is short. Probably for a very good reason with all the travelling he does.

The last time I visited just after Kyan was born, they were still in their apartment and the house was…well, a mess.

We visited so Letty could talk me through all the plans. It sounded like it was going to be incredible. I mean, the grounds alone and the view of Lake Washington in the distance were enough for me. It was incredible—the kind of house both of them more than deserved.

My face is practically pressed to the window as we drive down the street of homes toward the one I want.

Each one is unique, perfect. The yards are well kept and more than a few have some fancy cars lining the driveway.

Something tells me that Kane might not be the only legend around here, if you know what I mean.

Unease knots my stomach as I think about another member of the Seattle Saints.

Could he be close by?

I shake my head. He’s more likely to be in the middle of the city in a penthouse apartment. The perfect party pad for the NFL playboy. I’ve seen the photos and read the articles since he was drafted to the Saints. Some a few times over, if I’m being honest. And it’s clear that while he might have grown up and become a pro, his lifestyle never changed. He’s still the player we all knew at MKU.

It’s cool. I get it…I think. He told me time and time again that he wasn’t ever going to settle down. That it just wasn’t in his DNA or some bullshit. He wasn’t a one-woman man. At least he’s stayed true to his word.

Something tells me that if he’d met “the one” only a few months into living in Seattle, it would have broken me. Even more than I already was.




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