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Savage: A Pro Football Romance
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Contents
Title
Description
Chapter 1: Cassie
Chapter 2: Cassie
Chapter 3: Brady
Chapter 4: Cassie
Chapter 5: Cassie
Chapter 6: Cassie
Chapter 7: Cassie
Chapter 8: Brady
Chapter 9: Cassie
Chapter 10: Brady
Chapter 11: Brady
Chapter 12: Cassie
Chapter 13: Brady
Chapter 14: Cassie
Chapter 15: Cassie
Chapter 16: Cassie
Chapter 17: Brady
Chapter 18: Cassie
Chapter 19: Brady
Chapter 20: Cassie
Chapter 21: Cassie
Chapter 22: Brady
Chapter 23: Cassie
Chapter 24: Cassie
Mailing List
Excerpt From Stud: A College Football Romance
About The Author
Savage: A Pro Football Romance
First Edition. August 14, 2018.
Copyright © 2018 Michaela Scott
Cover Design by Cormar Covers
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
He’s a savage on the football field.
I’m a nerdy med student who can’t stand arrogant jocks.
So how did he end up on my exam table, with nothing but a towel between his legs?
I never want to hear the name Brady Mack ever again. I don’t care how many touchdowns he scores.
Too bad I can’t go anywhere in this town without seeing his chiseled, tattooed body and his stupid perfect face.
And sure, the night we met, I was seconds away from letting him make me his…but so what?
He’s still a cocky, foul-mouthed jerk with a seriously oversized ego.
The thing is, I just got a job offer I couldn’t refuse.
And now, I’m not just the one who got away…I’m his doctor. Brady thinks it’s hilarious. He keeps making inappropriate jokes about pelvic exams. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to make it to the end of football season without ending up in his bed. But Brady’s not making it easy.
He wants to finish what we started.
And if I’m not careful…my scrubs might just end up on his bedroom floor.
Chapter 1: Cassie
“Let’s go KINGS!”
Kendall is leaning so far over the metal railing separating us from the field that she’s practically about to fall over it. Her hands are cupped over her mouth, but as the team gets into position and the entire stadium starts stamping their feet, causing what feels like an earthquake around us, she slaps the front of the railing, keeping the beat.
Gotta love sports. Catching the ball, scoring the points, that kind of stuff…everyone here definitely does. There are people around me who are literally crying, and the game isn’t even over yet.
Deciding to play along, I get out of my seat, lean over the railing, though not as far as Kendall, and shout “Let’s go Kings!” in the most enthusiastic voice a nerdy med student who barely knows what a field goal is can possibly muster.
But hey, even I can tell that this is a close game. It’s all tied up, there are 30 seconds left on the clock, and the Kings are on defense. If we stop them one more time, we’re going to get the ball back, and then we’ll have a chance to win the game!
See? I’ve been paying attention!
The stomping noise is getting louder and louder as the two teams stare each other down, but as soon as the play starts…everyone just jumps into a big pile in the middle of the field, and the crowd goes so insane I can’t even tell what’s going on. Eventually, one of our guys comes out of the dogpile holding the ball, and a deafening cheer echoes through the stadium.
“Hell yeah!” Kendall shouts, practically falling over the railing as she jumps up and hugs me. “We’ve got this!”
The players jog off towards the sidelines, and a cartoon king wearing a football uniform under his cape appears on the huge screens overlooking the field and starts pumping up the audience. The TV broadcast just went to commercials, and that means the crowd is slightly less like a rioting mob and slightly more like a huge mass of nervous people waiting for something to happen.
I turn to Kendall. “We got the ball back, right?”
She nods. “They literally just dropped it on the ground. We’re so going to win this.”
I laugh. “Well, great! It’d suck if we didn’t win my first, last, and only football game.”
Kendall flashes me a slightly evil smirk. “About that…”
Uh oh. I knew something like this was coming. See, this is my last week in San Diego before I head up to Alaska to start my one-year internship at the prestigious Moose Lodge Medical Center. And Kendall, in honor of our last week as roommates, told me she was going to plan something extra special for my last weekend.
And considering Kendall’s idea of a normal Friday night involves pyramids of jello shots, parties where people start jumping off the roof, and making out with two Australian guys named Trevor at the same time…I’m a little concerned about what she considers “extra special.”
Kendall looks around to make sure no one’s listening in, and then leans in conspiratorially. “I know you probably think a football game was a weird choice for our last weekend as roommates, but there’s a method to my madness…”
She grabs her purse and starts fishing through it. “See, this is really just a warm-up for the main event, to get you into the football mindset, so you’ll be ready for what comes next.”
Raising her eyebrows, she reaches deep into her purse and dramatically pulls out two shiny golden plastic tokens. “Yeah, that’s right. These are 100% real.”
I grab one of the tokens and examine it. “What are these?”
Kendall, looking proud of herself, twirls her token between her fingers. “They’re Club Royale VIP tokens. Which means that after this game is over, we’re going to the same place that the players are. And you know what that means.”
I look up at Kendall. “I actually don’t know what that means.”
She narrows her eyes. “Oh, I think you do. Let’s just say that before the night is over, you’re going to learn a lot more about football players than you ever thought you would.”
Nervously twiddling the token between my fingers, I look down at the massive football players walking up and down the sidelines and shudder. “Kendall, I know you think football players are the hottest guys in the universe, but I don’t think they’re really my type.”
Kendall cocks an eyebrow at me. “Oh yeah? We’ll see about that. I saw that little shudder you just did when you looked over at the sidelines.”
She grabs me by the shoulders and turns me back towards the field. “If I were you, I’d start picking out which one of these guys you want to score with tonight. That way, once we’re at the club, you can just walk up to the one you picked and you’ll get right to the good part.”
My eyes dart back and forth between the players, having a hard time imagining what it would be like to even have a conversation with one, much less hook up with one of them…tonight.
“Okay, so you’re having a hard time choosing. Understandable, with so many ridiculously sexy options. In that case, allow me to make a recommendation.” She points all the way down the field, where one player is standing alone with his helmet off, his spiky black hair somehow perfectly messy after getting tackled by 300 pound defenders for three hours. “That’s who I want to see you going home with tonight. Brady Mack.”
Instantly, I shake my head. “No way. Absolutely not. Kendall, that’s
completely insane.”
I may not know anything about football, but I know about Brady Mack. Everyone does. You can barely turn on the TV without seeing his stupid tattooed shirtless body trying to sell you something. Like, we get it, you’re ridiculously huge, strong, fast, and you somehow have negative body fat, you don’t have to show up everywhere with that douchey expression on your face and keep reminding us.
I turn towards Kendall with a serious look on my face. “Kendall, I literally complain about Brady Mack every time I see him. He’s a complete douchebag.”
“Exactly. You can’t get him out of your head. And after tonight, you never will again.”
I shake my head laughing as the commercial break ends and the players jog back out onto the field. “Look, even if I wanted to hook up with Brady, which I definitely don’t, I’m sure he has a private island made of cheerleader supermodels that he goes back to after every game. It’s just not going to happen. Forget the club, let’s just get some wine and pizza and go home.”
“Nice try, but we both know that’s not happening. You’re going to Alaska for a year, and you might not even come back to San Diego after that! So to remind you that you’re a queen, tonight I’m going to get you a King, and you’re going to love it.”
I just laugh. There’s no point in arguing with Kendall when she sets her mind on something. Besides, I really don’t have anything to be nervous about. At most, I’ll probably end up dancing with a random seven foot tall guy for thirty seconds, maybe making out with him for thirty more seconds, and then it’s wine and pizza time. I definitely don’t have to worry about Brady Mack being interested in me. He probably won’t even show up.
All around us, I can feel the crowd focusing back on the field, ready to go insane at any moment. The players are getting into formation, and the whole stadium is holding their breath, watching them. And now that Brady has been pointed out to me, I can’t help but notice him, towering over pretty much everyone else on the field. And while the other players on the field are tense, waiting for the play to start, Brady looks perfectly calm, leaning forward on one massive leg with his eyes fixed on the end zone.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the crowd breaks into a roar, and everyone’s suddenly sprawled out across the field. The quarterback has the ball in his hands, and Brady’s sprinting down the sideline at a completely insane speed, with not one, not two, but three different defenders running after him. The quarterback scans the field, looking away from Brady for someone who’s open, and Brady throws his hands up, trying to get the ball thrown his way anyway. The crowd, seeing this, starts cheering, some of them chanting Brady’s name, and the quarterback’s head snaps back towards Brady, who’s about to cross over into the end zone.
The quarterback’s still not convinced that Brady’s going to be able to beat all three people on him. But when a defender breaks free and starts sprinting towards him, he realizes that he doesn’t have a choice, and launches the ball out towards Brady right before taking a flying tackle from the guy running at him.
Kendall grabs hard onto my arm as the ball flies past us, holding her breath along with the whole stadium as it heads towards its destination. And the closer it gets, the quieter it gets in the bleachers around us. The ball looks way too high for Brady to catch. The three people running after him have all caught up to him, surrounding him with hands outstretched towards the ball, trying to knock it away.
And then, as the ball reaches Brady, he gets low and absolutely launches himself so high up in the air that even my jaw drops, reaching out for the ball with one hand, brushing it with his fingertips, then reaching back to secure it in his palm as he gets hit hard by two of the defenders, sliding backwards off of the third one’s back.
But as he heads towards the ground, he brings the ball into his chest, and as soon as he does, the referees run into the end zone with their arms in the air, and the whole place instantly explodes, including Kendall, who practically falls over the railing screaming “Touchdown!” down at the field.
Okay, fine, I’ll admit it, I’m celebrating, too. I lean over the railing and cheer with Kendall, shouting “Go Kings!” at the TV camera as it sweeps past us, then looking down at Brady, who’s running down the sidelines with his helmet off, roaring back up at the crowd with the game-winning ball in his hands. But when he gets to our section of the crowd, something weird happens.
He stops in his tracks. The rest of the team runs up to him, mobbing him and congratulating him on the catch, but he keeps his piercing blue eyes fixed on the crowd. Then, like a bolt of lightning, he sprints towards the wall directly below Kendall and I, and I jump back in my seat as he actually starts climbing it.
The Kings fans around us are practically foaming at the mouth as the massive stud of a football player climbs up the same metal railing Kendall and I were leaning over ten seconds ago and stands on it, throwing his arms out to his sides and roaring “This is our fucking house!” out into the crowd, practically starting a riot in the rows above us.
And the people next to us? They’re screaming “Insane catch!” and “We love you!” up at Brady as he towers over us, soaking in the moment with a wild grin on his face.
And I know this sounds obvious…but Brady’s much, much bigger than he looks on TV, or even down on the field. He looks like some kind of giant from this angle, with tattoo-covered biceps that are practically the size of my head and huge, powerful legs that look like trees growing out of the metal railing. And even though I’m still pretty sure he’s an arrogant douchebag, it’s hard not to be a little impressed just by being this close to him.
Then, as Brady jumps backwards, grabs the top of the railing, and climbs back down to celebrate with his team, his blue eyes look back up…and right into mine.
And even this little thing, this one second of eye contact, is so intense that it feels like I’m getting tackled back into my seat. My mouth drops open, but I don’t think I could make any words come out of it even if I wanted to. Noticing my reaction, the tiniest hint of a smirk forms on Brady’s face, and then he lets go of the railing, plummeting six feet down to the field into a mob of his own teammates.
“That was crazy,” Kendall says, her eyes wide with shock, bringing me back to reality, “He was right there in front of us.”
Then, regaining her composure, she looks over at me and reaches into her purse. “Hopefully, that’s a little preview of tonight at Club Royale.”
Crap. I got so caught up in the game that I forgot this is supposed to be part one of a crazy night out, and that part two involves Kendall trying as hard as she can to hook me up with football players at Club Royale. And for some reason, she thinks that Brady’s going to be there.
Kendall pulls a folded up jersey up out of her purse and drops it in my lap. “You’re going to be needing this to get into the VIP lounge; they won’t let you in without some Kings gear on.”
I unfold the jersey, feeling my heart quicken as I read the name stretched across the back.
MACK
“It was on sale!” Kendall says in her best fake innocent voice.
Great. So now I’m going to be spending the rest of my night dressed like a Brady Mack groupie. At least I probably won’t be the only one.
“I know, I know,” Kendall says, “But trust me, when you’re on that plane to Alaska next week, you’re going to be glad you lived a little first. So what do you say? Want to have one last insane night in San Diego?”
I bite my lip, looking down at the gold plastic token in my hand. “Well, it has been a while since I’ve done anything like this…”
“That’s the spirit!” Kendall says, “Now let’s hurry so we can get there before the line gets too long.” She grabs my arm and practically yanks me up out of my seat, leading me up the aisle.
And as I leave the stadium, I look back out over the field and shudder as I watch the players walking into the locker rooms, especially one player in particular, towering over the rest as he steps into the d
arkness of the tunnel.
Chapter 2: Cassie
Ah, Club Royale. If you want to regret literally everything you do for the rest of the night, this is definitely the place you want to go. Luckily, I don’t think we’re going to be spending much time in the actual club tonight.
Since Club Royale is right next to the stadium, and since you get a free drink for wearing a Kings jersey on game day, as soon as Kendall and I head through the doors, it’s already packed wall-to-wall with football fans. Pushing past them, we make our way slowly across the dance floor until we reach a weirdly empty back hallway lit with blacklights, leading towards a staircase guarded by a bouncer in an expensive-looking suit.
Kendall walks up to the bouncer. “Hey, so…my friend and I are both very important people.”
She flashes the plastic tokens, and the bouncer waves us through.
I don’t know what it is, but something about the long, blacklit staircase makes my heart beat faster with every step. I’m just being stupid, though, right? It’s the VIP section of a not-even-that-nice club, there probably won’t even be any football players here.
“You know,” I say to Kendall, “Maybe we should let you get the first crack at the football players. After all, you’re the fan. I wouldn’t really have anything to talk about with a quarterback or whatever.”
Kendall looks back over her shoulder. “Nice try, but I have the rest of the season to do something like this. You’re the one who says she only has one night to go out before her residency starts, so I’m not doing anything until we’ve found you a football-playing friend for the evening.”
“Okay, but football players aren’t my type! Can’t we just find a bar full of nice, nerdy doctors and do this there?”
Kendall shakes her head. “Nope. Not after watching you drool over shirtless princes and knights on Throne of Crowns this whole semester. And what’s better than a knight?”
We round the corner of the VIP lounge, and as soon as we do, my breath catches in my throat. It’s like a completely different bar up here; one completely lit by blacklights and populated by what has to be at least half of the San Diego Kings, towering over everybody with drinks in their hands. Pretty much everyone else in the lounge is female, but I’m pretty sure I’m the shortest person up here; everyone else looks like they stepped right off a catwalk.