End Zone Heat Page 2

  That was weird.

  Adam forced on a smile. “Thanks. But it was the entire team coming through for us that last quarter.”

  Because he was the quarterback, lots of people praised him personally for the wins. But football was at its core an intensely team-driven sport. If the defensive team or special teams fell down on the job, he could throw a bunch of perfect passes and still not win the game. That wasn’t false humility. It was simply the truth.

  “You see, Dyson?” Jerry Macklin said. “Fans love this guy. Women love this guy. Hell, I love this guy. That’s why I need him safe.”

  Adam glanced at Dyson again. Yeah. He could see it now. The dude was a professional bodyguard. He had that look, that feel to him. Those eyes too. Fierce. Intense. Never missing anything. Always on the alert.

  “What’s this about, Jerry?” Adam asked, even though he knew very well what it had to be.

  Jerry flashed him a wide PR smile. “Dyson Drake’s your new bodyguard.”

  “Jerry—”

  “I know. I know.” The owner of the Razorbacks held up his hands. “Maybe I’m being a Nervous Nellie here, but with these threats against you, I thought it best to bring Dyson onto the team.”

  Threats. He was a public figure. A famous sports athlete. Tempers among sports fans ran high sometimes. Aggressive things were said. It was nothing. Those kinds of people were almost always all bark and no bite.

  Then again, someone had busted up his Veyron a couple of weeks ago with a baseball bat when he’d been at a downtown club. He’d figured it had been an angry ex pissed at him for moving on to Missy.

  Maybe he was wrong.

  Still, that was no reason to clamp this chain around his ankle. The bodyguard would be in his grill twenty-four-seven. He might even want to move into Adam’s penthouse condo to keep him “safe.”

  He didn’t let people live with him. Not Missy. No girlfriends. Yeah, he let them spend the night. Sometimes. But they didn’t move in, no matter how much they dropped hints or even outright asked.

  He’d never had a bodyguard either. He didn’t want one. He was a private person, and he could take care of his own ass, thank you very much.

  It was as simple as that. The cops could handle vindictive ex-girlfriends. Insurance would cover the damage to his cars or property. He wouldn’t sacrifice his privacy because some nutcase bastard sent threatening letters full of crazy talk to the team offices.

  Besides, he didn’t want this man in his condo or constantly shadowing him. Even more so, not this particular man. The reason was simple.

  He was already attracted to Dyson Drake.

  As an athlete, he knew his own body. He knew its responses. The truth was sad. He had to fake attraction to Missy when straight guys would’ve been drooling all over themselves to get at her. But with Dyson, he already felt his heart beating faster. He already felt that tension, that attraction tightening into an ache deep inside him.

  Adam looked the team owner right in the eye and decided to be blunt. “I don’t need a bodyguard. So thanks, but no thanks.”

  Some people would think he was being a reckless fool. Arrogant. Stubborn. An ass. But he didn’t care. He didn’t need a babysitter. And he certainly didn’t need this Dyson Drake looming in the background, distracting Adam with his broad shoulders and that deep, rough-sounding voice.

  He clamped down hard on his feelings and on his attraction. His secret would stay his secret no matter what.

  CHAPTER TWO

  DYSON DRAKE

  Dyson was amused when the star quarterback flat-out turned him down as a bodyguard.

  He was also annoyed.

  Guys were all the same. They never changed. It was all ego. All tough-guy posturing. No one ever needed help. No one needed protection. Everyone thought they were a badass.

  So he wasn’t surprised when Adam Collins refused to have him as a bodyguard. It was a mistake, but Dyson wasn’t surprised.

  As a bodyguard, Dyson’s job was to keep the principal safe. But it wasn’t an easy job. Especially when the principal didn’t believe they were in any danger.

  He considered simply walking out. He didn’t need to fight and argue with a guy who didn’t want Dyson’s valuable skills. He was good. Hell, he was damn good at what he did. If this sports star couldn’t recognize that, then why waste his time?

  But then again, this time, the arrangement was different than usual. The client wasn’t the principal—the person he was supposed to keep safe. This time the client was Jerry Macklin, the owner of the Razorbacks.

  And Macklin was paying a lot of money to keep his star quarterback safe.

  It wasn’t all about money for Dyson. There was a lot more to life than that. He’d taken this job because he was a Razorbacks fan. He could admit that to himself. But maybe that had been a mistake.

  No matter how hard he tried to wall off the part of him that was a Razorbacks fan, he only partially succeeded. Someone was out there trying to ruin the team’s chance at the playoffs. This unbalanced individual had targeted Adam Collins. Dyson could use his skills and talents to keep Collins safe, make a bunch of fans happy, and keep the dream alive. That’s why he needed to be patient right now.

  That’s why he was going to stay patient no matter how insulting Collins got.

  So he kept his expression neutral. He had long ago mastered the skill. As a bodyguard, you saw a lot of crazy shit. Especially with rich people. Hip hop artists were pretty damn wild too. Politicians were bad. Sports stars were generally decent enough. Probably because they had to take care of their bodies.

  Jerry Macklin sighed at Adam’s refusal and walked back behind his desk. He stared down at his hands for a long moment before meeting Adam’s gaze again.

  “Look, Adam, I know this is a pain in the ass. But I want you safe.”

  “Fine. I’ll get a concealed carry permit if that helps.”

  Dyson held back a snort. A concealed handgun was more likely to cause problems than to solve them. Especially since this guy was a pro athlete and not ex-military or police.

  Dyson was ex-military. Army Rangers. Eight years of active duty. He’d enlisted straight out of high school. So he knew how to handle himself in tight situations.

  “I don’t need my star quarterback packing guns,” Jerry said, looking appalled at the thought. “And this won’t be forever. Just until this little problem goes away.”

  “I’m not convinced there is any ‘little problem.’ An ex busted up my Veyron. That’s all.”

  But Dyson had seen the police photos of Adam’s fancy Bugatti. A baseball bat had been used. Extensively. With a lot of anger. The supercar had been completely worked over. An angry ex might’ve keyed it. Or slashed the tires. But the car had been smashed up to the point where Dyson was certain a dangerous message was being sent.

  And that didn’t even address the crazy, threatening letters Jerry Macklin had shown him.

  No. Somebody definitely had a hard-on for Adam Collins. Now if only the spoiled quarterback would listen to reason.

  Dyson wasn’t much of a honey-tongued smooth talker, so he’d let the team owner do the heavy lifting. Dyson was just skilled labor, so it wasn’t his damn problem if the quarterback went all prima donna on them.

  He was getting paid either way.

  Jerry let out a long sigh. “Gotta say, I hoped you’d be more open to this.”

  “It’s an overreaction. I’m not going to let some vandalism ruin my freedom.”

  “That’s the thing, Adam. It’s not an overreaction. Someone worked over your car. That’s a bitch. But these letters…” He leaned back in his big leather chair and shook his head. “We got another one yesterday, right before the game. Full of lunatic talk.”

  “A crazy fan for another team got a little heated. It’s nothing. Not anything to upend my entire life over.” Adam shrugged. That handsome, movie-star face now sported a scowl. “I like being able to talk with the fans. Sign autographs. The fans are the reason I can even d
o this for a living. I don’t want some bodyguard cutting me off from them.”

  Yeah. This guy was great on the field, but there was definitely a spoiled athlete, me-first vibe to him. Or he was just completely naïve. Shame, because he did seem great with fans.

  Dyson had already done a little research on him for the job. Adam Collins was known as a playboy. Every few months, he had a different beautiful woman on his arm. That made Dyson think the guy was shallow. Or at least that Collins didn’t know what he wanted in life and had the wrong priorities.

  But maybe he was being too hard on the guy. Everyone agreed that Collins was pretty selfless when it came to the team and to the fans.

  “Crazy fans can be a problem,” Dyson said, taking the chance to interrupt. “Seen it before.”

  Adam glanced at him, frowning. He didn’t say anything.

  “Listen to Dyson,” Jerry Macklin urged. “This is his area of expertise.”

  “With all due respect to Mr. Drake, I’m still not interested. Next week we have a big game in New York. I don’t need any distractions. I need to keep my focus.”

  Adam Collins crossed his arms as if that was the final word and he’d won the argument.

  Dyson wasn’t worried. He knew this would go his way. It had to. Adam was in for a rude awakening any second now.

  Maybe it was good for the guy to get taken down a peg. He’d seen Adam play plenty of times. Hell, he was a Razorbacks fan after all. He respected the guy on the football field.

  On top of all that, the guy seemed to have everything going for him. Adam Collins was definitely easy enough on the eyes. Good-looking. Short, light brown hair. Piercing blue eyes that made him great for the cover of sports magazines. Tall, too. Same height as Dyson and Dyson wasn’t small. Adam was wearing jeans and a red and black Razorbacks T-shirt. He had dropped a big Razorbacks sports bag near the door. It was easy to see the guy was in peak shape. Athletic build. He clearly lifted weights but without sporting so much bulk that it would slow him down.

  Just Dyson’s type too. He liked guys who took care of their bodies. Guys with tight asses, six-pack abs, and charming smiles. He knew Adam Collins had all of those and more. Hell, he’d seen the guy in those tight football pants a thousand times, hadn’t he? Guys in tight football pants were prime jerk-off material in Dyson’s book.

  Not that he’d let his own preferences in sexy men get in the way of doing his job.

  Jerry Macklin finally made his play, forcing Dyson to focus back on the tense confrontation in the owner’s office.

  “Adam, I hate to do this. I really do. But I’m pulling the pin on this for your own good. Your contract with the team allows us to do whatever is necessary within the law to protect you. You’re a team asset. You’re an investment. We need to keep you safe. Not only because we love you, but it’s a contractual obligation.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jerry shrugged, and Dyson almost felt bad for Adam, getting bushwhacked by a contract. “Call your lawyer if you need to. Have them call the team lawyers. They can read you the clauses. Talk to the player’s union if you want. But since you’re a vital team asset, the team is legally obligated to protect that asset. The contract allows us to protect a team asset in a manner we deem fit. We think there’s a risk this nutbag crazy person might try and harm you, especially with some of the threats he’s made. The police recommended we hire security to protect you. I’ve hired Mr. Drake. And so here we are.”

  Adam looked pissed. “That’s your trump card? I’m an investment, so you’re going to chain a bodyguard to me twenty-four seven?”

  Jerry made calming motions with his hands. “Just for the rest of this season. Or until the police catch this asshole.”

  Adam Collins was already shaking his head, dismissing the idea. “Fine. You got me by the balls. I’m man enough to know when I’m beaten. But I want to hire my own bodyguard.”

  Well, damn. That was irritating. He had to hand it to the guy. Dyson hadn’t seen that coming. He was a little pissed that Collins was so dead set on making this a problem.

  All right. Clearly, Dyson needed to step in here and help smooth things over. That wasn’t really his best skill set, but what the hell. He needed Collins to trust him.

  “Mr. Collins,” Dyson said, choosing his words with care. “You have some concerns. I get that. But I’m a professional. I’m discreet. I’ll keep you safe.”

  “What are your qualifications?” Adam demanded.

  “Eight years as an Army Ranger. I’m a certified bodyguard with three years’ experience. I’m licensed, bonded, and insured.” He shrugged. “I have a long list of certifications if you want me to go on and on. CPR. Firearms. Criminal psychology.” He smirked. He decided to take a risk and flash a little attitude. “I can tell you how much I bench press if you want, but you’re getting one of the best.”

  Collins was watching him closely. Dyson immediately gleaned something from him. The quarterback was impressed. He was trying to hide it, but he was impressed by the whole Ranger-thing especially.

  Dyson guessed that showing some attitude had been the right choice. These famous, fancy people were never used to getting any pushback. When they finally did get some, they seemed to respect it more than an Ordinary Joe might.

  As for Dyson, he wasn’t all that impressed anymore. Sure, the guy was a good quarterback. Sure, he was gorgeous. But he was just another famous guy, acting entitled. Dyson had been around plenty of famous people before, keeping them safe. There were always exceptions, but in his experience, the rich and famous were usually self-obsessed assholes, to put it bluntly.

  It was too bad Adam Collins had rushed to put himself in that category.

  Hell, he didn’t know why he should care in the first place. This was just a job. Just something for a good paycheck. On top of that, the guy played for the other team, chasing female tail. So it didn’t matter how tight his ass was or how broad his shoulders were or how strong his jaw was. He was off-limits. Offside. Out of bounds.

  So Adam Collins was off-limits because he was the principal—the man to be protected—and because he was straight. End of story.

  He had a nagging feeling that this could never work and would turn out to be a disaster. But he wasn’t the kind of guy to give up easily either. If this quarterback got over his stiff-necked opposition, then maybe Dyson could do the job he was damned good at.

  Collins had been eyeing him the whole time in silence. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. You’re ex-military. Obviously, you know how to handle yourself.” He glanced at Jerry. “I’m not happy about this, but…I’ll go along with it. Until the end of the season, whether we make the playoffs or not.”

  Jerry looked thrilled. “Oh, we’re making the playoffs. That’s the whole idea behind this. Keep you safe so you can focus on winning. You looked great out there today. Fantastic. Stadium attendance has never been higher. I think we have a real chance this year, Adam. A real chance.”

  Adam rubbed a thumb along his jawline, looking contemplative. His scowl vanished. “I think you’re right.”

  After another round of sports chit-chat and small talk, the meeting wrapped up. Macklin escorted them to the door, looking pleased as punch.

  Collins left the office with Dyson behind him. Outside in the big corridor, Adam Collins turned to look him in the eye.

  “So. We’re stuck together.”

  “You won’t even notice me, sir.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that. You’re hard to miss.”

  “I’m wearing body armor. If I’m hard to miss, it’s better they hit me and not you.”

  That quip won him a smile. A genuine smile.

  The guy’s smile really was amazing. It was bright white, warm, and charming. No wonder he had women dropping their panties for him left, right, and sideways.

  “I don’t think it’ll come to that, Mr. Drake, but I gotta admit, if I do need a bodyguard, you sound like the right man for the job.”

  Dyson nodded once be
cause he appreciated the compliment. “Feel free to call me Dyson, Mr. Collins. I don’t stand on ceremony.”

  “All right, Dyson. Since we’re going to be getting close, I guess you should call me Adam. So we can keep it simple.”

  Dyson hesitated. Usually, he used “sir” or called the principal by their last name to keep his distance and show respect. But again, he decided to go on instinct here. Instinct had kept him alive when he’d been deployed. It had never failed him. He wasn’t going to second-guess it now.

  “Thanks, Adam. I appreciate it.”

  “So, what now? I’m heading home. It’s been a long day. You want to ride with me?”

  “I’ll escort you to your car and then follow you in mine. If that’s all right.”

  Adam let out a long sigh. “Fine. Fair warning. I don’t like change. And this is one hell of a change.”

  Dyson wished he could sympathize, but life was always changing, always throwing you curve balls and challenges. That was what kept it interesting.

  Maybe Adam Collins needed someone like Dyson to help shake things up.

  They’d soon find out.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ADAM

  It had been a long day, a long drive, and his body still ached. He was getting hungry. He’d broken up with his girlfriend. He felt like a jerk about how he’d handled it, but there was no going back now.

  In the end, it was for her own good. Now, if she was lucky, she could find a guy who would love her and not use her.

  Because both of them had been using each other.

  Adam needed a beautiful woman on his arm for parties and social events and to keep the gossip rags from finding out everything he was keeping secret.

  Missy wanted fancy things, luxury, attention, and all the glitz and glamour that came with being the significant other of a famous person.

  He’d given that to her in spades. No one had ever accused him of being cheap. But he simply couldn’t go on doing it. Lately, the whole setup had been bothering him. It ate away at him, on top of his worries about getting the team to the playoffs, and added to his constant worries about the big secret he was hiding.