All In (The Kings of Kroydon Hills)

1

BRADY

“Dude, I think Coach was trying to kill us today.” Walking into Cooper Sinclair’s house, I kick my sneakers off in the mudroom and drop my gym bag on the floor. With two weeks to go before our senior year starts, the football team has two-a-day practices every day—one from seven ’til ten and a second from three 'til six. I don’t care how much time you spent in the weight room over the summer or how many miles you ran around town in the mornings, these days blow.

Taking a seat at one of the high-backed barstools lining the light wood island in the kitchen, I lean back and thank God for whoever invented air conditioning. The cool air against my still damp hair is doing more for the throbbing in my head than any ibuprofen ever could. The heat and humidity of August in Philadelphia are no joke, and I’m pretty sure it’s Coach Maxwell’s goal to make sure everyone pukes at least once a day, every day.

It’s Thursday night, and we only have one more day left of hell this week. Next week’s schedule is slammed with four days of practice and a scrimmage. Then, it’s back to school following the long Labor Day weekend.

I’m exhausted. My muscles have been pushed to the limit, and my brain can’t absorb any more information, but I don’t mention that to my teammate, Cooper. I barely manage to catch the ice-cold bottle of water he throws my way.

Coop transferred in from California halfway through last year, right after his dad became Philly’s new professional football coach. This guy never seems to have a care in the world. “Stop fucking bitching, QB. We’ve got two weeks left until the first game of the season. That’s two more weeks of beer and bitches before we have to get serious for the semester. We’re the Kings of Kroydon Hills Prep. Enjoy it.”

He doesn’t realize it’s practically my job as quarterback to always be stressed.

Coop’s still riding the high of Coach Maxwell announcing today that the starting tight end position will be his to lose this season. He earned it, but now he’s gotta keep it. The announcement pissed off more than one upperclassman who thought the position should have been theirs after last season’s starting tight end graduated. “You sound like a fucking freshman, Coop.”

He turns to face me, one eyebrow raised. “Why don’t you enlighten me, oh wise quarterback?”

“Oh wise Captain is more like it, shithead. You’ve gotta get serious at some point.”

“And you’ve got to lighten up, QB. Live a little.”

The door slams open as Sebastian and Murphy let themselves into the house. The thud of gym bags being dropped, followed by shoes being added to the growing pile by the mudroom door echo down the hall. Aiden Murphy’s dark green shamrock hat is sitting backward on his ginger head. He’s a few inches shorter than Coop, Sebastian, and me . . . maybe 6’2”. What he lacks in height, he makes up for in bulk. Murph’s freakishly strong. He likes to say he could bench press my little sister’s Fiat. He’s also one of the country’s best linebackers and wants everyone to know it. “You know QB doesn’t know how to lighten up.”

He also has a big mouth. “What took you assholes so long?”

Sebastian Beneventi is Murph’s opposite in every way. Bash is an intimidating dude. He’s the tallest of the four of us, standing at 6’6”. He’s the quiet one compared to Murphy’s loudmouth. Murphy and I have known each other since preschool. Bash moved into town a few years later, and we all became good friends, bonding over our love of football. We all come from very different, very powerful families.

Families like ours tend to run at two ends of the parenting spectrum. They’re either overly involved in their kids’ lives or not involved at all. Because we all fall into the latter category, we formed our own sort of brotherhood. Coop slid right in with us when he moved to town.

Before either of them can answer me, a blonde goddess enters the kitchen. She’s tiny. I’m used to short. When you’re 6’4”, everyone seems short. But this girl looks like Tinker Bell. She has her golden-blonde hair tied up in one of those messy buns my sister always wears. Skintight black leggings barely cover perfectly shaped thighs, and I’m betting they’re doing a lousy job of hiding a tight little ass.

An ass Murphy’s blatantly checking out.

A green Notre Dame t-shirt is hanging off one tanned shoulder, hinting that those tits—tits I wish I had a better view of—are bare under there. But her eyes are what draws me in. They’re the lightest blue I’ve ever seen, like a perfect summer sky. And they sparkle with unshed tears while she stares at Coop.

Cooper drops his bottle, practically charging for her. Picking her up off the ground, he spins her around. “Natalie! You told me you weren’t flying in until this weekend.” When he places her back on her feet, she blushes the prettiest pink and leans into him like she’s going to cry.

“I missed you so much.” Sniffling, she pulls back after a minute, her face pink and her eyes watery. “I know you’re busy with football camp, and Dad’s in the middle of preseason right now, so I figured this was the easiest way. The ballet intensive I took this summer ended last week, and Mom and her new boyfriend were talking about flying to Italy. So I thought, ‘Why wait?’ It wasn’t even a long Uber ride from the airport.” She wraps her arms around his waist and hugs him again. “Seriously, Coop. It wasn’t a big deal. I just wanted to get here. It’s been six months since I’ve seen you and Dad. I didn’t want to wait anymore. I missed you.”

Placing his arm around his sister’s shoulders, Cooper squeezes her to him. “I missed you too, little sister.”

Laughing, she tries to push him away. “Hey. I may be smaller, but I’m three minutes older. Take the ‘little sister’ stuff and shove it.”

Murphy interrupts their reunion, “So, this is the infamous Natalie?” He’s examining the two of them, his eyes lingering on Natalie. “Hate to break it to you, man, but this girl is way better looking than you are. I thought twins were supposed to look the same.”

Bash smacks the back of Murphy’s head. “Identical twins look the same. Same-sex. Two girls. Two guys. Fraternal twins don’t. Try paying attention in biology this year.”

“Yeah well, we can’t all have photographic memories, asshat,” Murphy answers, glaring.

Up ’til now, I was a fly on the wall, just taking it all in. But when this girl turns, looks up at me, and smiles, every ounce of will power I have starts to snap like strings on a guitar.

I’m so screwed.

“Guys, this is my sister, Nattie. Stop looking at her like that, Murphy. She’s off-limits. Lay a hand on her, and I’ll break every finger.” The grin he gives us all is a little evil and a little serious.

Damn.

“Oh my God, Cooper.” This little pixie spins herself out of her brother’s grip. Placing both hands on her hips, she glares at Cooper. “The fact that you, the biggest man whore I know, is saying anyone is off-limits is incredibly hypocritical. Tell me, little brother, how many girls have you hooked up with this summer?” When he doesn’t answer her right away, she crosses her arms over her chest and raises her eyebrows as if to say, “I’m waiting.”

“Can the big, strong jock count that high?” She starts laughing, and the sound is throaty and sexy, not at all what I was expecting to hear.

I’ve been half-hard since I laid eyes on Natalie Sinclair, and I’ve never been so grateful for a counter to hide behind in my life. A water bottle gets moved in front of me. Looking up, I see Sebastian trying to hold back a laugh.

Fucker.

Guess I was staring.

Clearing his throat, Murphy moves in front of Natalie and bows like he’s meeting the Queen of England. “Since your brother refuses to properly introduce us, I’m Aiden Murphy, but everyone calls me Murphy. I’m also the best linebacker in the city. This handsome devil to my left is Sebastian Beneventi. If you have any waste management issues, give Bash a call. His Dad’s in the biz.” Murphy winks at her, and I want to punch him in the face.

Sebastian tenses up.

The dude hates when we bust his balls about his dad and his connections.

“Fuck you, Murphy.” Bash has Murphy in a headlock and on the floor before he knows what hit him. These two fight like brothers more than most brothers I know.

“Hey, assholes. Stop rolling around on the floor like it’s some kind of mating ritual.” Cooper’s laugh rings out through the kitchen.

Natalie looks up at me and tilts her head as if she’s assessing the situation. “And who are you? Wait. Let me guess. The quiet ones are always the quarterbacks, spending too much time in their own heads, figuring out everyone’s next play.” A slow smile spreads across her pretty face. “Am I right?”

Of course, she has to be perceptive too, and she just nailed me. Momentarily hesitating, I answer, “Yeah, I’m the quarterback. Brady Ryan. Nice to finally meet you, Natalie. Coop talks about you all the time.”

Bash and Murphy start to laugh.

Coop grabs an apple from the bowl on the counter and throws it at me.

Catching it, I hear him say, “Don’t downplay it, man. Brady Ryan is the number one-ranked quarterback in the country, sis. I swear, if Dad could take him right out of high school, he would.”

That shakes me out of my stupor. “Number five, asshole.” I throw the apple back. “Don’t jinx me. One bad move, and any of us could be out for the season or replaced. Now, let’s figure out what we’re ordering for dinner. I’m starving.”

I swear to God I hear Murphy mumble, “I bet I know what you’re ready to eat.”

Murphy smiles at my glare before he walks back over to Natalie. “Are you hungry, Nat? We were just about to order some food before we figure out our plans for tonight. Plus, we need you to put us out of our misery and tell us all about the hot Sinclair sibling. We’re tired of Cooper and could use some new blood here.”

Murphy wraps his arm around her shoulders, guiding her to a stool. I’ve known this guy since kindergarten, and I’ve never wanted to make him eat my fist as much as I do right now.

“Hey, Cooper. Since your dad’s out of town, are we partying here tonight or keeping it to just us?” Sebastian is always looking for a reason not to go home, always trying to avoid his dad and his uncles. We like to joke about it, but his family is the kind you don’t cross if you want to stay in one piece. It’s the worst-kept secret in Kroydon Hills.

Natalie’s face falls for a second before she schools her features. “Dad’s out of town tonight? I was hoping to see him.”

“I know you hate football, but you seriously have to pay attention to Dad’s schedule. He has a game tonight in Tampa Bay. He’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. He wanted to do dinner when you got here this weekend, but it’ll probably be tomorrow after I get home from practice since you’re here now. I’ll shoot him a text and let him know you got home early.”

Bash clears his throat. “Alright. So, what are we ordering for dinner?” I think he sensed the tension in the air. It might as well be his superpower.

Of course, tension could hit Murphy over the head, and he still wouldn’t sense it. “Wait. Wait. Wait. Did I just hear Coop right? Did he just say you hate football?” Murph places both hands over his chest. “Come on, now. You’re breaking my fragile heart here. Say it ain’t so.”

Clipping Murph on the back of the head, I glare at him. “Knock it off, man. Leave her alone.”

Pale blue eyes look up at me through long lashes. “It’s okay, Brady, I have two brothers, I’m used to teasing.” She turns her attention to Murph. “I don’t hate football. It’s more of a love-hate relationship. I’ve been around it my entire life. I love the roar of the crowd at games, the smell of the fresh-cut grass, and the energy in the air when you’re under the lights.” She doesn’t realize she’s describing what we all love about it too.

“Our entire family has lived our lives according to where Dad was coaching. I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve moved in eighteen years. First, he was promoted from assistant to head coach in college, then from offensive coordinator in the pros to head coach of his own team. I hate that Cooper and I have spent the last six months living on separate coasts because Dad switched teams again, but I get that this was a huge opportunity for him.” She leans against the counter and glances at me again. “Cooper and Declan both bow down to the altar of the football gods. I don’t get on my knees for anyone.”

Coop’s face pinches tight. “Jesus Christ, Nattie. I don’t want to hear about you getting on your knees. Conversation over!” He groans, and the rest of us laugh at his reaction to his sister’s choice of words.

His face is as red as it was from the heat at practice today.

It’s funny but not enough to stop me from picturing Natalie on her knees in front of me. Those pretty pink lips, sucking . . . Just then, an empty water bottle hits me in the head.

“What the fuck, man?” I turn to see Murphy laughing at me.

Asshole.

He hands me a stack of menus. “Pick a damn place to order from, QB. I’m ready to get this party started.