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  “It’s the same with you. Fans love getting behind the good guy. They want to believe in you. They want to know they have someone special on their team. Not Brooks Keller’s son or Jake Keller’s brother, but Gavin Keller, who’s a star in his own right.”

  I wanted to be known as someone separate from my family. At the same time, I was uncomfortable with everyone knowing what I did off the field. When I started going to high school football practices, I wasn’t even sure what I was doing there. The more I observed, the more obvious it was. These kids didn’t just need someone to look up to or someone to teach them skills, they needed someone to tell them they were worth it. That someone believed in them.

  “We don’t have to reveal the boys’ names or even the organization you work with, but let’s give them something. Let’s give them the real Gavin Keller—not the machine who plays every Sunday on the field.”

  A chill ran down my spine. No one ever wanted to know who I was. In high school and college, girls who struck out with my brother approached me. I was second-best. People didn’t get to know me because they thought they already did.

  “Trust me. Once Seattle fans discover how special you are, they’ll sing your praises everywhere.”

  She smiled.

  She was gorgeous. The kind of beautiful that came naturally. She wasn’t even trying to use it to get her way. No, she painted a picture with words that I couldn’t help but want. I wanted to trust her. “I don’t work with an organization. I go to high school football practices. I talk to the coaches and find out who needs help. Not necessarily with their football skills, but who’s being raised by a single parent or a grandparent. Who doesn’t have money for equipment? Who could use a friend? Who needs a boost in confidence? I believe in them.”

  Lexie’s eyes widened and her eyes shone with excitement as if she’d gotten what she’d wanted.

  “Now the coaches call me when they have someone who needs me.”

  “Do you know how amazing you are?” Her voice filled with awe.

  “I don’t think of it that way. I was lucky to be raised in a good family. I had the money to buy equipment. Not everyone does.”

  “Like I said, you’re amazing. You’re keeping this a secret. It’s why the press and fans have been so hard on you.” She jabbed her finger into my chest before she realized she’d touched me and took a startled step back.

  My chest burned with awareness.

  She winced. “I’m sorry, I get carried away sometimes. This is my favorite part of my job—finding the story.” She looked away before meeting my eyes again. “And you, Gavin Keller, are the story this season. Not your dad. Not your brother. You.”

  “That’s where you're wrong.” I waited for a beat, trying to decide if this was a good idea. One of our first meetings this morning involved media training and how we were supposed to cooperate with the organization’s reporters. I didn’t like it, but it was just as much part of my job as football was. Was it a good idea to involve her, or would this be a huge mistake? “Would you like to come with me when I meet with one of the local high schools? I wasn’t going to go until next weekend when we have a short break.”

  She nodded, her smile widening. “I’d love to.”

  I held up my hand. “No cameras. No recordings.”

  “Of course not. I won’t even need it. This story will shine without any of the extras. Although it would be nice to have footage at some point.” She let her words hang in the air.

  “We’ll see.”

  She clapped her hands together. “You won’t be sorry, Gavin. This is going to be great.”

  There was something about the way she’d said my first name—familiar and soft. I wanted her to say it again. I wanted her to linger on my name, so the sound settled over my body and into my soul.

  Chapter 3

  Lexie

  The next week, more veterans arrived. I briefly spoke with the returning players about how they were feeling to be back, their lives, and families. Then I steered questions to the usual focus of training camp, status of injuries and the rookies. Was there a break-out star among them? I loved to predict which player would get the buzz. After talking with Gavin the other night, my guess was him.

  I couldn’t wait to see him in action this weekend at the local high school. The world was watching him, wondering if he was as good as his dad and brother. He was known as a hard worker. When I watched him in practice, he didn’t socialize with the guys. He was quiet, didn’t joke around. He didn’t seem to be friendly with anyone in particular.

  “What has your face all pinched?” Clay asked.

  I was in my usual spot by the practice fence. Occasionally, Clay stopped by to talk on his water breaks.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and faced him. “How is Gavin Keller doing?”

  “Is this the reporter asking or the woman?” Clay raised his brow.

  “The reporter. He doesn’t seem to be making friends with anyone.” My gaze tracked Gavin as he took the water bottle from the trainer, squirting his face. He was hot and sweaty. It should have been a turnoff except it wasn’t.

  “He’s not making enemies either, but you’re right. So far, he’s kept to himself.”

  “Not exactly the sign of a good leader.” When I’d talked to Gavin the other night, he’d impressed me. I was surprised he wasn’t mentoring at the behest of his dad, who knew how that kind of thing would look. Knowing how intensely private he was, it was a gift to be asked. I wouldn’t betray his confidence. At the same time, I wanted to know more about him.

  “No. It’s not, but it’s early yet. Once Gavin relaxes, he’ll loosen up with the guys.” Clay took a long swig of his water before toweling off his face.

  “What do you think? Does he have what it takes?” I trusted Clay’s opinion. When I met him in college, he was a useful resource. I was the radio broadcaster, he was playing center for the team.

  “He’s got the skills, the intensity, and the focus. He works hard, but you know there’s a lot more to football than that.”

  “He needs the other guys’ respect and trust.”

  He needed to be able to communicate quickly on the field. The guys had to trust he’d be where he was supposed to be. “There are a lot of talented guys. It’s the leaders who are the backbone of the team.”

  Maybe I’d mention it to Gavin when we were together on Saturday. It wasn’t uncommon for rookies to take a while to get comfortable, but Gavin was different. He’d grown up in professional football. He knew the game was more than hard work and focus unless he hesitated to step up because of his family’s reputation. “I can ask him about it.”

  Clay shook his head and smiled. “You always liked to meddle, even in college.”

  “I wouldn’t call it meddling. It’s more like a push in the right direction.” I gestured with my hand to demonstrate my words as Clay chuckled.

  “I’m just glad you’re not focused on me.” Clay studied me.

  I wondered if he’d guessed my attraction to Gavin.

  As soon as I had the thought, I dismissed it. It was my job to be interested in everybody on the team. “If you protect my quarterback, we’ll be just fine.”

  “I’ll protect your precious Will Montgomery.”

  “See that you do.” I smiled as he jogged back toward practice.

  “Is that how you got the position? You know Clay Porter,” Janine, one of the broadcast team’s anchors, said from further down on the fence.

  “I’m sorry?” I stiffened, examining her closely. I hadn’t met her before, although I’d heard we were both in the running for the sideline reporter position. I’d gotten the job even though she had more experience. I attributed it to the fact I’d attended practice, press-conferences, and games when I was the local sports anchor.

  She sidled closer to me, lowering her voice. “Are you fucking him?”

  I flinched at her harsh words. “I got this job based on merit.”

  Janine snorted. “How’s that po
ssible when I have more years of experience? This job was mine.”

  My fingers curled into fists at my side as I tried to control my anger. “Clearly, it wasn’t. Maybe it had something to do with your attitude.”

  “You better watch yourself. It won’t look good if you’re screwing around with the players.” Janine sneered before she walked away.

  I looked around to make sure no one overheard before I stared onto the field, barely registering as the players got into position and ran through plays. There was no rule against fraternization except my own. It made me sick to think my friendship with Clay could be misconstrued.

  My eyes rested on Gavin as the team ran through plays. Janine was wrong. It wasn’t Clay who intrigued me. It was Gavin. He was broody, almost aloof at practice, but when we spoke the other night, I got a glimpse of the man he’d been hiding. A man who mentored young boys because he wanted to. Not for fame or recognition. A man who was focused on football, not on the women he could score. He was a total catch.

  Chapter 4

  Gavin

  Training camp was brutal. Up at six a.m. for breakfast, hit the weight room, attend meetings where we’d watch tape of the prior day’s practice. There were two practices daily. Icing and stretching sore muscles ate up any free time. The second practice of the day consisted of full pads, technique, play execution, full speed drills, and heavy hits. It was a chance to impress the coaches, but also the reason my entire body ached this morning.

  I shouldn’t have agreed to take Lexie with me to the local high school.

  I’d reached out to the coach before camp. This was the only practice I could make with my packed schedule. Observing and helping out younger players fueled me for moments like this when I was beat up both mentally and physically.

  A small red car pulled up to the curb where I stood waiting. The window rolled down. I crouched to see Lexie in the driver’s seat, wearing jeans, a Seattle T-shirt, and a cap.

  She smiled, looking much younger than in her suits. “Good morning. I picked up coffee and food. I figured you could use some extra calories.”

  I pulled open the door and folded my tall frame into the small car, breathing in the smell of fresh coffee that wasn’t from a cafeteria. I wanted to say fuck yes, but I restrained myself. I was getting used to being around men all day who never worried about their language. “Thank you. This is great.”

  She placed a steaming bag of food in my lap and pointed to the coffee cup between us. “This one’s yours. I’ve already had a few cups.”

  I opened the bag, peeking inside as she pulled from the curb. “Don’t worry. I checked with your nutritionist before I ordered.”

  Her thoughtfulness shouldn’t have touched me even though it did. I had to remember she was a reporter who wanted a story.

  “So, tell me, why would you want to spend one of your three days off during camp watching high school football? You didn’t have a girlfriend or family you wanted to spend time with?” She glanced at me briefly before turning her attention to the road.

  I took a bite of the egg-white bagel, leaning my head back to savor the flavors. When I ate breakfast in the cafeteria, it was a chore. Usually, my whole body ached and I just wanted to go back to sleep. I would just shovel in the food, not tasting it. Now though, I ate slowly, enjoying the food. “This is so good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Then she raised her eyebrow at me.

  “Give me a minute.” I chewed before drinking the steaming hot coffee. It felt good to be out of the dorms even if I was talking to a reporter. “This isn’t for your story. Mentoring feeds my soul.”

  My words hung in the air between us. I’d done the impossible—I’d shocked her, distracting her from the subject of girlfriends and family. “How so?”

  “I enjoy it. I can’t explain it. I love watching the practices, assessing who needs what—a pat on the head, a word of encouragement, a promise to help with a particular skill. It doesn’t take much to brighten their day.”

  “I’m sure showing up brightens their day.”

  “It does, but I want to do more. I want to have an impact.”

  “Maybe being a coach is your calling.”

  “Someday.” I hadn’t thought about coaching in the future. I hadn’t thought much past training camp. I didn’t look forward and tried not to look back.

  Lexie shook her head. “You’re an intriguing mix, Gavin. You stir up my reporter instincts. I want to know what makes you tick. What it was like growing up the son of a football legend, the younger brother of a star. I want to know everything.”

  “That’s what everyone wants to know.” Her words set me on edge.

  She smiled. “Not the way I do. I want to know the man. What motivates you. What hurts you.”

  “Why?” For a story she could sell to the fans? For a promotion to a national network?

  “Training camp is my favorite time of the year. Everyone’s on equal footing. Everyone has to prove themselves. It might be the only chance an undrafted player gets. I love to predict who’ll be a standout.”

  I relaxed slightly. “You love a good underdog story.”

  Her smile widened. “You, Gavin Keller, are the biggest underdog story of them all.”

  I crumbled the still-warm bag and placed it on the floor by my feet. “Me? Hardly. I grew up with a good family, good genes, with the money and means to play. If I hadn’t been good at football, that would be the story.”

  “You’re not an underdog in the sense that you’re a nobody who’s on the field undrafted. You are in the sense that you lived in the shadow of greats. Will you always pale in comparison, or will you become a star in your own right?”

  I was silent for a few seconds mulling her words.

  “Why wide receiver? Why not quarterback like your dad and brother?”

  I shook my head. I was asked this so many times.

  “I’ve read your interviews. I’ve researched everything about you. Tell me the truth, not a rote response.”

  The truth was I wanted to stand out. I wanted to defy my father and prove I was different. “It’s not so interesting. I was a teen wanting to rebel against my father’s expectations. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, and I didn’t.”

  “Why not ice hockey or some other sport?”

  “Believe me, if I could have excelled in another sport, I would have.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I’m really not.” I wanted to throw her off my trail. Convince her another player was worth her focus and time even though there was a part of me that liked her attention. When had someone ever been interested in the real me? “Tell me about yourself.”

  Startled, she shot an uncertain look at me. “Why?”

  “Why not?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Are you so used to asking the questions you can’t handle it when someone turns the tables?”

  Her shoulders tensed, her fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter. She shrugged as if my question was no big deal. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me everything about Lexie Austin. Where you grew up? What was your family like? Did you play sports? Why sports broadcasting?”

  She laughed. “That’s a lot of questions for someone who’s used to being on the receiving end.”

  “A question for a question. You tell me something about you, and I’ll return the favor.”

  Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “I grew up in Tennessee with my family. I have two older brothers. I grew up watching sports and fell in love. Now tell me something no one else knows.”

  I was quiet for a few seconds trying to think of something that no one knew that was interesting. “I wanted to be a math teacher.”

  She looked over at me in surprise. “You did?”

  “Yeah. I majored in math. If the football thing doesn’t work out, I’ll go back and get my teaching certificate.”

  “You could teach and coach. How perfect.”

  I barely let her words penetrate before I as
ked another question. “Why sports broadcasting?”

  “Well, I love sports. We always had football on in the house in the fall—college and professional. It didn’t matter. I grew up watching Erin Andrews on TV, wanting to be her.”

  “You never played a sport?”

  “Hey, that’s two questions in a row. I played volleyball in high school, making the decision to focus on broadcasting in college. Volleyball would have interfered with football and the beginning of basketball season.”

  “That must have been a tough decision.” The fact that she was a former athlete and might understand some of what I was going through was attractive.

  “The most important thing about me is that I was named Miss Tennessee and placed eighth in the Miss U.S.A pageant.” She shrugged again like it didn’t bother her when I knew it did. “I knew I’d never play sports professionally, but I wanted to be involved. I love the training, the strategy, and the energy of the players. There’s nothing like being on the field. It’s my dream.”

  “Yet, it’s the personal interest stories that satisfy you.”

  “That’s my favorite part. Getting to know the man under the uniform.” Then she waved me off. “Enough about me, we’re supposed to be doing a question for a question.”

  “Fair enough.” I shifted in my seat, bracing for the next one.

  “Why do you mentor on your own, why not with your brother, a teammate, or your dad?”

  “It was something for me. Growing up, I shared everything with my brother, a room, interests, and sports.”

  “You started mentoring in college?”

  “Yes. I still keep in touch with the coaches and players and plan to go back when I can.”

  “That’ll be tough with your schedule.”

  “I’ll fit it in.” My mouth tightened. I’d given the players my email to keep in touch. I didn’t want them to think I’d forgotten about them. When I was making more money, maybe I could fly them out for a game.