Page 22 of Broken Saint

Fuck. They were really good times.

“So, what do you think?”

I stare at the Saints’ wings over the breast for a few seconds before my head starts moving of its own volition.

“Yes,” Letty hisses, jumping up to hug me.“We’re picking up Peyton on the way. She’s going to be so excited to see you.”

She squeezes me in a bone-crushing hug before running to the door.

“You have twenty minutes to finish the look. There will be more margaritas waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“Okay,” I breathe, but it’s too late; she’s already gone.

It’s only when I’m alone in the room once more that I allow the jersey in my hand to unfold.

“Oh fuck,” I grunt, all the air rushing from my lungs as if someone just swiped me with a baseball bat across the chest.

The number taunts me, making my head spin and my heart try to burst out of the safety of my ribs.

Already knowing what I’m going to find, I turn it around.

Rogers.

“I’m going to kill you for this, Scarlett Legend,” I fume, although, I can’t deny that it’s with a small smile on my face.

6

COLTON

“Dunn, Rogers,” someone calls across the field where we’re out with the Bulls warming up before the game in a few hours.

Looking up, I find a familiar face running toward us with a wide smile.

My teeth grind as he closes the space between us.

After all these years, I shouldn’t care. But apparently, some grudges never die.

“Sawyer, man. How’s it going?” Luca greets, pulling our old teammate in for a hug and thumping him on the back.

“It’s good. You ready for a repeat of last year?” he asks, a shit-stirring glint in his eye that I remember all too well from our college days.

“Nah, fuck that, Cooper. We’re going to be all over you this year. We’ll be sending you back to Boston with your tails between your legs.”

Both Sawyer and Luca’s eyes widen at the bite in my tone.

I don’t mean to. I just…I can’t fucking help it.

This fuck has riled me up from the first day of training camp for the Panthers, and he hasn’t stopped since.

“Yeah, well. We’ll see about that. I know both of your moves like the back of my hand, and so do the rest of my team. We’ve got you all by the nuts, and you know it.”

The banter continues for a few minutes before we cool it and catch up.

I might not like him all that much, but really, there’s nothing wrong with Sawyer Cooper. He’s a decent guy, everyone else I know loves him, and he’s a fucking kick-ass defensive player—and yes, one of the reasons they came out on top last year.

But I’ve always had one big issue with him.

It shouldn’t even be an issue, but no matter how much time has passed, I’ve never been able to forget it.