“Don’t get me wrong, we’re thankful to have you on the team—I’mthankful to have you on the team—but that’s awful big talk for someone who hasn’t proven herself yet.”
“Seriously?” I knit my brows together and purse my lips. What the hell does he think I’ve been doing at practice for the last two weeks? “Because Coach Jackson is thrilled with my progress. In fact, he told me today I’m starting on Saturday.”
If he’s surprised by the news, he doesn’t show it. “See me after your first game,” he says, eyes blazing, chest heaving. “All those soccer games you played? They’re nothing compared to the bright lights and screaming crowds of D1 football. You ever have one hundred thousand fans screaming your name, counting on you to bring home the win? It’s pressure like you couldn’t imagine, so trust me when I say, you’ll want the team at your back.” Without another word, he turns on his heel and walks away.
I watch his retreat, his words echoing in my head.
Pressure, indeed.
11
AUSTIN
I knockon Coach’s door, a feeling of unease twisting my gut. It’s not exactly unusual for him to call me in after practice, and there’s no way he could know about the blowup between Carter and me, but…
“Come on in, son,” he says, waving me into the office. As usual, his face gives nothing away except the fact that he’s spent too much time in the sun. I slide into the chair opposite his desk, casually draping my hands over the front of the armrests, and hope like hell this isn’t going to be a repeat of the Spellman conversation. “How’re things going with Carter?”
“Fine.” Aside from the fact that I can’t stop thinking about the way she bites her plump lower lip. Or how bad I wanted to kiss her senseless when she was spewing righteous indignation between the stacks.
Talk about hot and bothered. Just the memory makes me shift in my seat.
“She fitting in okay with the rest of the team?” Coach tosses his pen on the desk and leans back in his chair to study me.
“As well as can be expected,” I hedge, avoiding an outright lie. In truth, the woman is infuriating as hell, a fact that’s making me feel like a complete failure as captain, something I refuse to accept.
Coach narrows his eyes to slits, his bushy brows flattening. “Something you want to tell me?”
“No, sir,” I say, resolved to figure Carter out on my own. It’s rare someone can slip past my defenses and make me lose my shit, but she seems to have a rare gift for pushing my buttons. And vice versa, if I’m being honest. Sure, I’m annoyed, but mostly at myself for screwing things up in the first place.
In retrospect, I probably could’ve handled the whole teamwork conversation better. But, honestly? There are a ton of guys on the team who’d give their left nut for a full-ride. Doesn’t she get how big a deal this is?
Even so, I feel like a dick about how we left things at the library. It isn’t like me to walk away—from a fight or a teammate—and the last thing I’d want to do is psych her out before her first game.
Shit. What if she gets performance anxiety because of me?
Some fucking leader I am.
“Good,” Coach says, dragging me back to the present, apparently satisfied with my one-word answers. “I actually called you in to talk shop.”
My ears perk up, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Got a call from a scout in Chicago yesterday.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on the desk, lacing his fingers together. My heart begins to pound. He’s got my full attention now. “You ever think about playing ball in the Windy City?”
Fuck yeah, I have. Like every day for the last two years. They’ve got a killer coaching staff and although the team is in a rebuilding phase, there’s a lot of potential there.
I shrug, not trusting myself to speak.
“They’ve got a good program in Chicago, despite their record. Coach Norris is a good man and a good coach. He could really help elevate your game as you transition into the NFL.”
I nod, tamping down my excitement. Coach doesn’t need to know I’m pissing myself at the prospect of attention from Chicago. “I appreciate the interest, sir, but I don’t think it’s in the cards. My family wants me to play ball in Pittsburgh.”
I’ve always known that wherever I go, all roads lead to the Steel City. It was all my parents ever talked about when I was a kid, seeing me wear the black and gold one day. Just like my old man. Hell, I’m wearing a tiny black and gold striped hat and matching blanket in my first baby picture.
No way I’m going to let them down when their—thedream is finally within reach.
“Pittsburgh.” Coach grunts. “I know it’s your old man’s team, but you could be part of something special in Chicago. Blaze your own trail, so to speak. Team’s got the makings of being great one day. They just need a solid QB to jump-start the program.”
He’s not wrong. Chicago’s always had a first-rate defense. If they could play both sides of the ball at the same caliber, they’d dominate the NFC North. But I’m hardly in a position to blaze my own trail, even if the prospect gets my blood thrumming.
