Page 8 of Blinding Lights

On top of all that, if I don’t go, the third member of the three stooges—as we were affectionately named by Hunter’s grandfather—will never let me live it down.

Atlas Grant and I have a stilted relationship these days. Hunt—Shawn Hunter—understood my decision to corral all my energy into football, because it made him a lot of money. Atlas, on the other hand, is a social motherfucker, and never understood why it had to be one or the other for me. After all, he could juggle friends, family, partying, a revolving door of sexual partners, and still kill it on the field.

I’m not that guy.

I care about my mom and my sister. I care about Hunt. I even care about Atlas. But at thirty-two, I’ve only got two, maybe three years left in my career, meaning there’s plenty of time for friendships after that.

Football is my focus, and it’s better that it stays that way. For everyone.

Except when it comes to this weekend.

Closing my eyes, I run a hand down my face and accept the inevitable. “Okay, Mom. I’ll go and put on a smile, just for you.”

“Thank you. Make sure you keep it locked in place when your sister asks for photos together. They’re for me.”

“You just love pushing my buttons, don’t you?”

“Someone’s got to do it. But I’m more than ready to hand that baton to someone else. A girlfriend maybe.”

“One day.”

“One day is good. I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you too.”

We move on to the real reason she called, and when she hangs up, my head hits the rich leather seat behind me as I launch my phone toward the passenger seat, watching it land in my gym bag. I release a sigh so loud I swear the birds stop chirping, then shake myself off, getting out of the car.

I’ve got this. Here’s hoping the weekend goes fast.

I’m one of the last to arrive in Vegas despite living the closest and it still feels too early. When my flight touches down at the international airport, I’m advised by the bodyguard that Hunter arranged for me that everyone’s already at the pool, meaning I missed the welcome meetup. A win in my mind.

By the time I check in and get changed, the pool area is thriving, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s maxed to capacity. I stiffen in the entry, taking in a deep breath to gather my strength before I enter the fray.

I’ve just taken a step when Hunter’s future wife, Olivia, rushes toward me. “You made it.” She engulfs me in a hug before holding me at arm’s length and looking me over. “Good to see you’re unscathed so far.”

“Safe and sound.” My shoulders lift as her eyes bounce to the bodyguard behind me. I have a bodyguard in San Francisco, but I rarely use him because I rarely go out. “Thanks to you and Hunter.” I nod and Olivia’s lips lift into a warm smile as she releases her hold.

Like Hunter, Olivia’s always been kind to me. Even after I moved.

She grew up in the same area as we did; she and Hunt are childhood sweethearts, so we’ve known each other since we were kids.

I wouldn’t have faulted her for getting protective of Hunter when I left, only reaching out again when he became an agent. But she’s never once made me feel unwelcome and always called me an extended part of the family.

Fuck if I know why.

“He won’t admit it, but Shawn is really happy you’re here. He said he couldn’t imagine celebrating without his oldest friend.”

“Of course.” I smile. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” Dammit. Now I have guilt knotting my stomach on top of everything else.

“Thank you.” Olivia squeezes my arm, guiding me to an exclusive roped-off area of the pool deck, nodding to the security guards as we walk past.

I raise an eyebrow and Olivia laughs. Hunter isn’t usually flashy with his money. Neither is Olivia. Sure, they both like nice things, so I knew the wedding would be big, but this seems over the top for them.

“It’s amazing what money can buy, right?” Olivia wrinkles her nose and I fight not to frown until she continues, “He did it for you. Well, you and the other athletes here for the party. He wanted you to be able to relax and have fun without getting hounded.” She subtly gestures to a group of teens shamelessly taking my photo, and my heart clenches.

“Thank you both. That means a lot to me.”

“It’s the least we could do. You’ve always been such a good friend to Shawn when he’s needed it.”