Page 2 of Praised By the Cornerback

Rhodes raises an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying something changed between them ever since Serena locked them in that condo together. The way they avoid being anywhere near each other but keep giving each other the looks.”

“The looks?”

“Yeah. Especially Barrett. He’s been watching Dalton with this intense focus.”

“They’ve always been like that,” Harlow points out.

“No. This is different. This is weirder than usual.” I pause, letting the moment build. “I think they’re hooking up.”

Three pairs of eyes stare at me like I just announced I’m joining a cult.

“What?” Cole says finally.

“You heard me. I think they’re fucking.”

Rhodes blinks. “Knox, they hate each other.”

“Do they, though? Or is that just what they want us to think?”

“That’s—” Harlow stops, shakes his head. “No. You’ve got it all wrong. They’re like a cat and a dog. Dalton goes out of his way to piss Barrett off, and Barrett looks like he’s considering murder whenever Dalton’s around.”

“Exactly,” I say, pointing at him. “It’s too much. Nobody gets that worked up over someone they don’t care about.”

Cole shakes his head. “Nah. You’re seeing things that aren’t there. If anything, I think Serena’s forced bonding weekend made it worse. They probably wanted to kill each other by the end of it.”

“Or fuck each other.”

“Knox.” Harlow gives me the look, the one that says I’m being ridiculous. “Come on.”

“I’m just saying—”

There’s a commotion near the entrance to the VIP section that interrupts me. Security steps aside, and two guys walk in. Tall, athletic, moving with confidence.

I recognize them immediately: Adrian Vega and Rafael Santos. Both from the Miami Vipers. Both from the team we just knocked out of the playoff race.

“What the fuck?” Cole says under his breath.

“We’re in Miami,” Rhodes points out, watching the two of them. “We’re practically in their living room.”

“What are you thinking?” I ask him.

“We just kicked their asses. Let’s buy them a drink.”

“You can’t be serious, Rhodes,” Cole says.

“I’m dead serious.”

Cole and I both look at Harlow, and he just shrugs. “I’m with Rhodes.”

Rhodes raises a hand and waves them over. Vega clocks it first. For a beat they both hesitate, which is fair. We just crushed their season. But Santos grins and says something to Vega, who shrugs, and then they’re walking toward us.

“Look who it is,” I call out to Vega as they approach. “Number twenty-four. You finally stop following me around, or should I be expecting you at breakfast too?”

Vega slides into the booth across from me. “Depends. You planning on running slants in the hotel lobby?”

“Only if you promise to get beat again.”