Dating the Defensive Back (The Nash Brothers Book 1)

Nash 24 on Black and Red

“I’m Kyle Broderick with the Vegas Sun. Grayson, tell us your initial reaction to the trade.”

I nod at the reporter. “I’m thrilled to be playing for my oldest brother and with my youngest brother. This has been in the works for a while now, and I don’t know if it’ll be my last season or if I’ve got more in me, but I knew I couldn’t hang it up until I had the chance to play with my brothers.”

“What about Spencer?” Kyle asks, following up.

“You’ll have to talk to Spencer about that. From what I hear, he’s pretty happy in Minnesota.”

I field a few more questions, and then the team owner, legendary quarterback Jack Dalton, takes over and fields still more questions about what the team is doing in the offseason. I shoot a look at Lincoln, who’s sitting beside me, and he grins at me.

It feels good here. It feels right.

Once the presser is over, Lincoln and Jack take me downstairs to the locker room.

Before the press conference, I was up in Jack’s office signing some paperwork. After that, the team doctor gave me a physical to make sure I’m cleared to play. I passed with flying colors, and now I guess I can hit Vegas tonight.

Except…I’m not sure I really have anyone to hit Vegas with. Linc’s got plans, and who knows what Asher’s up to. Off the top of my head, I can’t really come up with anybody else, but I’m sure I’ll run into someone who wants to celebrate with me.

I head into the locker room and find a few players I recognize gathered there. Wide receivers Travis Woods and Tristan Higgins, running back Jaxon Bryant, cornerback Patrick Harris, and defensive lineman Deon Miller are all here along with a few other players and some of the coaching staff. Lincoln introduces me to everyone, though I’ve met a lot of these guys before. We’ve just never played together.

It’s a small group of dedicated players, and I get it. It’s the offseason. A lot of guys aren’t even in town right now because of it. Some don’t live here, and they head home to their families in the offseason. But these are the guys who showed up for me today, and that feels good—like I’ll have a network of friends here as I make my path in Vegas.

Lincoln shows me my locker, which is next to Patrick’s, and I stare at it for a few beats.

Nash 24.

It’s the number I’ve worn my entire life. There’s no significance to it other than it was the number assigned to me when the coach threw out T-shirts at my first Peewee League game, and I stuck with that number all through middle school, high school, college, and now in the NFL.

It’s nice seeing my number on a black and red jersey. It feels strange after the blue, white, and gold of my former team. All of this feels a little surreal, really.

I’m moving to Vegas.

I need to look for a place to live.

Patrick saunters up beside me. “Nash twenty-four,” he says. “It looks good.”

“I was just thinking that same thing.”

“You want to grab a beer across the street or something?” he asks. “A few of us hit up the Gridiron pretty regularly.”

“I’d love to,” I say, certainly not wanting to turn down the first invitation from a teammate as I strive to fit in.

Some guys won’t like me because I’m the coach’s brother.

Some guys will think it’s nepotism that got me here—and maybe it is. The rumors are already flying in the media, and I’d likely form more solid friendships somewhere else.

But this feels right for me, and anybody who doesn’t like it can fuck off.

We arrive at the bar, and it appears the party is already in full swing. There’s a booth in the back corner that Tristan and Travis beeline for, and I follow them as I walk with Patrick. We’re stopped in our pursuit of the booth to take photos and greet fans, and I’m given a hearty Vegas welcome by everyone who stops me.

We make it to that corner booth, and we’re mostly left alone once we’re seated. A server comes by to grab our order, and everyone orders their usual.

I guess it’s time to make my own signature splash.

“Hendricks,” I say when she gets to me.

She nods and eyes me for a beat as if she’s memorizing my drink and my face. I wonder what she’s thinking as she associates my choice with me.

Austin Graham approaches our table, and his eyes flick to me before he nods at Tristan across from me, who scoots over to accommodate another person.

“Why weren’t you in the locker room?” Tristan asks him.

He glances at me before he looks at Tristan. “I was busy.” He’s short and to the point.

I get the very strong feeling he doesn’t like me.

I’m a people-pleaser. I can get along with anybody. I hate the feeling that someone doesn’t like me just because of my last name, but it comes with the territory.

It’s something I’ll just have to deal with.

Austin Graham is a tight end, and so is my brother, Asher. My brother was chosen as the starter over him before he was suspended, which put Graham here on the bench. And given that my other brother is the head coach in charge of making those types of decisions, Austin isn’t hiding the fact that he has something against my entire family.

I’m not going to let him ruin my good time. I’ve got a few inches and probably thirty pounds on him. I can take him.

Not that it’s going to come to that. But if it does…

And a minute later, someone else I recognize comes sauntering across the bar toward our table.

I can’t help my wide smile as I push to a stand.

I grab my little brother into a bro-hug complete with back pounding.

“Welcome to Vegas, man,” he says, pounding my back as well.

“Thanks. You staying out of trouble?”

He scoffs. “Hardly. Move over.”

I slide into the booth closer to Patrick, and Asher sits beside me. I glance across the table at Austin, who looks like he’d rather be just about anywhere but here.

And maybe he will be. My brother was suspended last season after he admitted to gambling on the outcome of games, but he’ll be back this upcoming season. Yesterday marked the expiration of last year’s contracts, and that means it’s a new year. His suspension is over, and the front office has already informed him that he will be expected at voluntary minicamp next month.

He needs to keep his nose clean going forward. But Asher is the Nash brother who’s the biggest wild card. He thrives on surprising the fuck out of all of us, and I could see him joining a sex club just as much as I could see him going on an expedition through the Amazon rainforest.

And speaking of sex clubs, I know Vegas has several.

I’m not going to pretend like I’m not interested in learning more, but I can’t exactly ask my teammates about them the night I’m meeting them.

There’s always next week.

As it turns out, Tristan, Travis, and Jaxon are all married, which means they aren’t jumping at the chance to play wingman for the new guy in town. This really is just a group of dudes hanging out and having a drink with their buddies before they head home to their wives and kids.

Sounds boring.

I didn’t exactly learn about being a good parent or husband from my own father. He was always hard on us, teaching us that football comes first above all else, including personal relationships.

It’s probably why he’s in his late fifties and getting divorced, if I’m being truthful. My mom, on the other hand, is another story entirely. She always had a dream of owning a goat farm, and Linc and I made it happen. Too bad it’s in New York—the complete opposite side of the country from what’s been home for the last eight years.

I loved California. I never minded the proximity to the beach, the weather, the palm trees, or the nightlife. And to be honest, I didn’t mind the proximity away from my family. It gave me the space I needed to spread my wings and prove myself. I’m a Nash, and the dynasty is a huge part of my blood and my reason for playing…but I also needed to prove that I played because I wanted to play, not because I was forced into it.

I love football. I love playing. I love getting on that field and acting like a kid again. I don’t know if I’ll be ready to give that up at the end of this season, and I had my time alone. I’m excited to be part of something bigger with my biological brothers instead of the teammates who become brothers.

And maybe, just maybe…I’m starting to get to that point where I want to figure out my future.

I can’t play football forever, and once this season is over, if I decide to call it quits…then what?

I’ll go home to an empty house.

Is that really what I want?

I just watched Leader Lincoln as he rekindled a romance two decades old, took on a stepson, and knocked up his girl. Serious Spencer, my younger brother, is engaged. Adventurous Asher is not likely to settle down any time soon.

So…I guess that makes Gifted Grayson next.

But as I look around this bar at the fresh meat Vegas is serving this evening, my eyes landing on a gorgeous blonde, I can’t help but think that theoretically I’m next, but I’m not in a rush to figure out exactly what it is that I want out of life.

At least not tonight, anyway.