Page 1 of Praised By the Cornerback

1

Connor

“She leans in, all breathy and shit, and I’m thinking, fuck yeah, this is about to get good. I asked her to talk dirty, said don’t be afraid to be mean. And then she looks me dead in the eye.” I pause for effect, grinning at the three faces staring back at me from across the booth. “And says, ‘You’re annoying.’”

My teammates choke on their drinks, laughing.

“She seriously said you’re annoying?” Harlow asks.

“She sure did. And she said it like she was reading off a shopping list. ‘You’re annoying. We need milk.’ Like, girl, put some creativity into it. Call me a slut. Pull my hair or something.”

Cole loses it completely, bending over the table. Harlow’s still trying to hold his composure, but his mouth keeps twitching.

“Shit,” Rhodes wheezes. “Stop, man, I can’t breathe.”

“There’s more.”

“No.” Rhodes stares at me. “There can’t be more.”

“So after the annoying comment, I’m trying to salvage this, right? I’m like, okay, maybe she’s just nervous. So I go, ‘Yeah,tell me how annoying I am,’ trying to give her another shot. And she just—” I mime a completely flat expression. “She goes, ‘Very annoying.’”

Harlow breaks, covering his face with both hands, his shoulders shaking. Rhodes is wheezing again, and Cole has slid down in his seat, now half under the table, clutching his stomach.

“Very annoying,” Cole repeats. “Holy fucking shit, Knox.”

“I’m glad my pain brings you joy.”

“This is the best thing I’ve heard all week.” Cole grins at me. “Was the sex at least good?”

“It was okay once we got past the initial hurdle.”

“Just okay?”

“It was fine. Good, even. But it was…” I wave my hand vaguely. “Impersonal. And after, she didn’t even want to stick around. Just called herself an Uber and left.”

“Aww,” Rhodes’ voice goes soft with pity, making me want to punch him. “Poor baby Knox. You wanted to cuddle with the Tinder girl who called you annoying?”

“Fuck off,” I grumble, but I’m smiling.

Cole points at me. “You’re so clingy-coded, bro.”

“I didn’t—I’m not—” I stop, because denying it makes it worse. “Whatever. Can we talk about something else?”

“Please,” Harlow says, still grinning.

I lean back, scanning the club’s VIP section. The music thumps through the space, the beat rattling the glasses on our table. It’s packed tonight, and we’re getting our share of looks. We just knocked the Miami Vipers out of contention, and halfthis city wants to throw a drink in our faces. The club gave us the best section, tucked into a corner with a perfect view of the floor and enough security to keep the wrong kind of attention away.

I turn back to my teammates. “Speaking of weird. Anyone notice that Dalton and Barrett both disappeared after the game?”

That gets their attention.

“Yeah,” Cole says slowly. “That is weird. They always come out with us after a win.”

“Especially one that clinches the playoffs,” I add. “But neither of them showed.”

Harlow nods. “I noticed. They weren’t on the bus with us.”

“Suspicious.” I tap my fingers on the table. “And it’s not just tonight. They’ve been weird as hell lately.”