“Working out. Watching sports. Manly stuff. You know, like knitting.”
“Be serious.”
Reading,but he wasn’t about to say that part out loud.
Jerking off,but he couldn’t say that part.
Sticking my nose, and other objects, where they don’t belong.Yeah, that part especially would stay right there in his fucking head, locked up with a deadbolt and a key. Maybe some chains, too.
“I get a lot of hot chicks.” It was a half-truth. Nico had been with a few women, mostly in college. None since. He was too busy doing football things to have timeto chase women. And the women who chased him? Again, time constraints. Besides, ever since he found thatspotin his no-no square… Well things had been different, and it’s not like he could ask a woman to peg him, not without signing a hefty NDA agreement and a proper legal document would require a lawyer to write up such a document.
Would the lawyer then have to sign an NDA of his own?
The logistics made Nico’s head throb.
“Men who get a lot of hot chicks don’t typically need to convince others they get hot chicks,” Cooper said. “It’s okay, though. By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be a chick magnet.”
“You obviously don’t know me,coach,”the last word especially came out laced with sarcasm.
“I know that you have a one-five record and nobody likes losers, especially not women.”
“Fuck off,” Nico scoffed.
Cooper ducked down and ripped the power cord from the wall. The mechanics of the bike halted instantly while the whirring winded down.
Nico turned to him with a flat stare.
“Don’t ever tell me tofuck offagain,” Cooper said sternly, finally with the attitude of a real coach.“Not until you’ve earned it.”
Nico nodded in silence, bit his tongue so fucking hard he could taste iron.
But that mouth… It always won in the end.
“And how do Iearn it?” Nico hunched over the front of the bike and dared Cooper to look him straight in theeyes. The coach took the bait, the both of them locked in through the silence. “By being a good boy?”
“By playing like a professional athlete instead of whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.” Cooper shrugged. “But being agood boycertainly wouldn’t hinder your case.”
It felt different when Nico was the one doing the innuendos.
What the fuck was Callahan doing?
Nico had his suspicions, but would need to wait for the right moment to test his hypothesis.
“Here’s my favorite part.” Cooper pointed to the TV at the front of the boardroom.
Nico sat across from the other man on the opposite side of the table, forced to watch mistake after mistake. Watched himself as he dropped his head against the defensive end for the Bengals.
The video paused, rewound, and Cooper laughed as he watched it again. “It’s like a car crash. I know I shouldn’t keep watching but I can’t look away.”
Nico swiveled in his seat. “I’m not the first quarterback to get a concussion and I won’t be the last.”
Cooper slid a red folder across the table.
“What is this?” Nico flipped it open to find multiple packets of papers stapled together. Too much reading and he still had a headache. He closed the folder and pushed it to the side.
“It’s a list of every concussion in the history of the league. It’s true, you’re not the first player to get aconcussion. On average, the league records about two-hundred a year. You are, however, the first quarterback to ever have two concussions in their first six games. I’m guessing those aren’t the kind of records you dream of holding.”
Nico leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind the back of his head. “Guess it’s a good thing I have you here, then.”
