SOMETHING LIKE HATE (Chicago Grizzlies #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

MILES

What a great morning.

My little sister Twyla, and my old teammate Chase, who are now a couple, are visiting from San Francisco and staying with me in Chicago. It feels good to have people I know so well in a city that still feels a little strange to me even though I was traded mid-season last year. It probably didn’t help that last year, I flew back to San Francisco every chance I got and spent most of the off-season there. But I promised myself a fresh start this year, which means I sold my place out west and am committed to really settling in here in Chicago.

Twyla and Chase just told me they’re expecting a baby. I’m going to be an uncle. I couldn’t be happier for them and I’m excited for my new role, even if there’s a tug of disappointment because I’ll be thousands of miles away from my new niece or nephew. All the what-ifs race through my brain for the millionth time. What could I have done to avoid being traded from the team I’d been on since I was drafted? The place where all my friends are and where I’d made a life.

I’m stuck in my head—like usual these days—when my sister announces, “I have to pop out and meet someone.”

My forehead creases. Who the hell does she know in Chicago besides me? Something feels off. She’s looking at Chase as if she needs his support.

“I was wondering why you were already dressed and ready to go. Who are you meeting?” I ask.

“Um…I’m just going to help someone with something for the day.”

I frown at her vagueness. It will be nice to spend time with Chase without watching his hands roam all over my sister, but I only have a little time left with both of them before they leave. Chase and I both have to report to our respective training camps soon.

“I didn’t realize you knew anyone in Chicago. Except for me.”

“Well… I didn’t. They’re new here too.”

Chase chuckles, and my gaze flies over to him. “Just tell him, sunshine.”

I still. “Tell me what?”

My sister shifts in place and her eyes lock with mine. “Bryce got a job at Sportsverse Magazine, and their head office is here in Chicago, so she just moved here. I’m helping her unpack and get organized at her new place.” She rambles it out so fast that it’s like she’s hoping I won’t catch the keywords. Bryce. Sportsverse. Chicago. Move. New place.

I blink as each word repeats in my head until I find the words to question whether I heard her right. “Bryce lives in Chicago now?”

She nods. “Yep. But it’s a big city. I’m sure you guys won’t even see each other.” She gives me an encouraging smile.

I can’t seem to speak a word, much less a sentence. Why would Bryce accept a position at Sportsverse, knowing I’m here? She hates me. I hate her. If I find out she’s reporting on the Chicago Grizzlies, I might just lose my s**t. f**k, I’ll retire before I let her write one more shitty word about me.

“Miles, say something,” Twyla pleads.

I look between her and Chase. Both of their faces are etched in concern. I glance at her stomach… she doesn’t need my stress on her shoulders, and that’s exactly what will happen if I voice how I really feel about this, because Twyla would try to make it all okay. It’s not her problem to worry about.

So I man up and tell Twyla what she wants to hear. “You’re right, it’s a big city. I’ll never even see her. It’s not gonna be a problem.”

“Oh, I hoped you’d realize that. She doesn’t even live by you. She lives down in Lakeview or something.”

“What is she doing for Sportsverse?” I ask, trying to appear interested and not worried that she’s going to be the sports reporter for the Grizzlies football team.

One reason I hate Bryce is what she did to me when I played for the San Francisco Kingsmen and she was writing for the San Jose Chronicle. Some might blame her for my trade, for always pointing out my flaws and focusing only on them.

There’s another reason I hate her, but I try not to think of that.

“Um…I’m not sure. I never asked.” Twyla kisses Chase on the cheek. “But I gotta go. Promised I’d be there by ten.”

“No lifting anything heavy,” Chase says.

A better man than me would suggest that Chase and I go over to help. I’d find out where Bryce lives and make damn sure never to set foot in that neighborhood again. But f**k if I’m going to help Bryce after everything that went down between us.

“I told her I’d organize her stuff as she unpacks. I’ll see you guys later.” She kisses Chase again and hugs me before she’s out the door.

Once she’s gone, Chase shoves his hands in his pockets and stares at me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hell no.” I walk over to my fridge, wondering if it’s too early to start drinking.

“Good. Felt I had to ask though.” He heads into the adjoining living room and sits on the couch, props his feet up on the table, and turns on the sports channel.

The hosts are talking about their picks for football season this year and who they think will make it to the Big Game. I groan, sitting on the chair adjacent to Chase.

He doesn’t rub it in when the hosts talk about how the San Francisco Kingsmen are the reigning champs. How they might have another unstoppable team this year. Although the commentators don’t remark about my trade specifically, it stings that the Kingsmen won the Big Game without me. It hurts to think that I might’ve let them down and held them back when I was on the team. The belief that maybe I’m just not good enough is like a bruise that refuses to heal.

“Let’s talk about Cooper Rice and the Chicago Grizzlies. With Miles Cavanaugh joining them last season, I saw some potential,” Rip Klein says on the TV.

“Are you suggesting Miles Cavanaugh could be a game-changer for them this season?” Ollie Pradham asks in a tone that suggests Rip Klein doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Chase doesn’t say much as the two of them go back and forth. Rip’s on my side and Ollie’s not. The only real consensus they have is that Cooper Rice is the image of professional football right now—not necessarily for his talent, but his good looks and all the endorsement deals he’s done in the past year.

We sit in silence as the show goes to commercial.

“You don’t believe that bullshit, do you?” Chase asks without making eye contact with me.

“No,” I say, but when people constantly underestimate you, it’s hard not to believe they may be onto something. Hell, Ollie Pradham is in the Hall of Fame. He was one of the best cornerbacks ever.

“Good. Because they don’t know shit.”

I nod, but in my head, I harp on the fact he’s still a Kingsman. Chase still plays for the team I want to play for. I’m the one who got booted off the island, not him, so it’s easy for him to say.

He stands and looks at me. “Let’s go do something.”

“Like what?” We did all the tourist stuff already.

“I don’t give a s**t. Anything. We just need to get the hell out of here.”

I shrug. “Let’s go then.”

We leave the condo in search of something to do. I can push aside all the bullshit until training camp next week because that’s when the vultures will come out to pick apart my performance as though I’m roadkill.