Covering my hand with her warm palm, she said, “Just be honest. No head games.”
“I can do that.”
“I don’t know who lit a fire under you, Chambers, but I’m glad to see you back in form,” Coach Wiley said as I trotted over to the sidelines after catching one of Patty’s long balls on a post route in practice.
“Thanks, Coach.” I shot back some electrolytes from a squeeze-bottle one of the managers had handed to me.
“Whatever was going on with you yesterday, next time if you need help, you let me know.” Though his words were nonthreatening, the seriousness of his tone said he wanted me to hear the subtext.
Got it. Loud and clear. Let Coach know when I’m having a badday.
Right.
Like I’d ever tell him I’d fucked up with my girlfriend and nearly ruined everything I’d been working toward from the minute I first saw her after I returned home.
After the starters had run a couple more plays, Coach sent me back out on the field. We set up for a pass play, but it was a decoy to open a lane for Jason Taylor, our backup running back, to run through. Somehow, I ended up having to take on Bax. Channeling attitude at the way he’d checked Taryn out back at the house, I stood him up and pushed him back a couple of yards. From his shocked expression behind the face guard of his helmet, I could tell he didn’t expect me to give him some game. When Coach Ellis called the play dead after Finn got one of his big paws on Taylor and stuffed him into the turf, I let out a chuckle and patted Bax on the chest.
“Not bad for a pansy-ass flyboy, huh?”
“Your head had better be on a swivel next time you actually run out of the slot,” he growled.
“Promises, promises.” I laughed. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
Another growl followed me as I ran back to the second-team huddle where we waited for Coach to send in the play. Sure enough, it was a pass play with me breaking out of the slot to run a skinny post on Bax’s side of the line. After I made him look silly with my mad blocking skills, no doubt he meant it about coming after me at the next opportunity.
LeSean Call, our backup QB, gave the signal, and I lined up in my spot. When he yelled, “Hike!” I sidestepped like I was going to block again and shot through the gap. In three steps I was out of there and running to my spot on the field. Bax made a beeline for Call behind the line, so I improvised, giving him a better target. He let the ball fly right as Bax grabbed his jersey. Lucky sap—linebackers were under strict orders not to take down the heart of the offense. That wasn’t the case for any of the rest of the skill players.
I came back for the pass, secured the ball in my hands, and turned it upfield. Taco Hernandez, our star safety, drew an angle on me, but after trash-talking my roommate, I had something to prove. A little hip shimmy forced him to whiff when he launched himself at me, and I was headed for pay dirt.
After I crossed the goal line, I trotted back to the bench and handed Coach Wiley the ball. “See, Coach? Everything is under control.”
With a kind of exasperated shake of his head, he said, “Get your ass back out there, Flyboy.”
Grinning, I trotted back to the huddle.
“Way to make us look good,” one of the O-lineman said.
“They’re going to come at us harder now,” another said.
“Good,” Taylor chimed in. “I want a turn at what Danny did to ’em just now.”
If Tarvarius could have seen the fire in Taylor’s eyes as he said that, he’d probably be headed to the weight room to put in some extra reps to be sure Taylor didn’t muscle him out of his starting position. As it was, he managed to gain twenty hard-fought yards on the next play before Coach Ellis called practice for the night.
“Glad to see you figured something out between yesterday and today,” Callahan said as we dressed in our street clothes after listening the coaches’ end-of-practice directives and showering.
“Turns out Danny’s ‘friend,’” Finn interrupted with air quotes, “is a dark-haired hottie with the wildest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Bet all that hand-holding back at the house had something to do with your fired-up play today.” He chuckled at my glare.
“Figured it had something to do with a girl,” Callahan said as he pulled a hoodie over his head. “She’s not going to get in your head again, I hope.”
Before I could call him out, Finn did. “Kinda hypocritical coming from you, ’Han.”
“What he said,” I echoed.
“Don’t you all worry about me. Jamaica and I are just fine.” He followed up that pronouncement with a secret smile it didn’t take a rocket scientist to interpret.
“The fuck, Chambers. You been doing some overtime lifting or something?” Bax asked as he joined the three of us. “Good thing you didn’t dump me on my ass out there. No telling what you’d find in your mess of a bed when you climb into it tonight.” His smirk was pure evil.
“Maybe you need to wake up earlier and add Wheaties to your breakfast, old son, ’cause I won’t hold back next time.” I hitched my duffel bag over my shoulder and returned his grin.
