Cooper slid the beer back to Tommy, like it was a game of give and take. A negotiation of sorts.You take a sip. I take a sip. See who finishes the last drop. He leaned forward on the counter and pondered out loud, “How long do you realistically think this Nico kid is going to make it in the league?”
“That’s why I’m trying to get as much money out of him as soon as possible.”
The agent appeared to have as much faith in the rookie as Coach White had earlier in the day.
“The kid is begging for an early retirement with the way he plays,” Tommy continued. “Which is why I need you to sign these papers and come on board in an official capacity.”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“What the fuck else do you have going on? I know you miss football.”
“I missplayingfootball. Teaching that kid not to run into brick walls isn’t playing football. It’s playing babysitter, and If I wanted a child of my own, I’d already have one.”
Tommy inched closer, lowering his voice. “We’re talking a million dollars for two-thirds of a season. Most quarterback coaches are lucky to get a third of that.”
“It’s not about the money,” Cooper said flatly, a fact Tommy was well aware of.
Cooper had never wanted for anything in his life. The first thing he ever tasted was something metallic from the silver spoon he was born with in his mouth. The kind ofold-school money that whispered instead of screamed. Everyone in that fucking city knew his mother and most were afraid of her. Everyone knew his father and idolized him—the late, great Rich Callahan, two-time Super Bowl champion.
“You used to love the thrill of winning, remember that?” Tommy questioned. “If you can’t be on that field, isn’t this the closest thing to that? Nico Fallon was tapped at a young age to be the next greatest thing in the history of football.” He palmed a hand on Cooper’s shoulder and squeezed. “I think he’s a lost cause, personally, but if anyone can turn him around, it’s you. Don’t you want to be the one responsible for that?”
“I don’t know if I’m ready, Tommy.”
Of course he was ready.
Now or never, right?
That’s what Luke always said.
But it was never now, always later. Not today, but tomorrow.
And then it was never.
Forever.
Cooper signed on the dotted line.
Cooper slumped on the couch and watched hours of tape on the big screen. Watched the rookie make the same mistakes over and over again. Watched the rookie give up after his second read, and go straight for the run. Open receivers in the slot? Run. Easy slant pass? Run.
Always running.
A shadow grew over Cooper from behind the couch.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” he said.
“That’s because the Ring is turned off,” Stassi said, dropping her purse off onto the side table parked against the wall. She unhooked the diamond studs from her earlobes and placed them onto the porcelain dish she had gotten from a trip to Thailand. “Why are you watching tape?”
Cooper sat up straight on the couch and shuffled a blanket over the arm. “Coach White wants me to coach the rookie.”
She raised a brow. “You said yes?”
Cooper nodded. “Have you seen this guy play?”
“You know I can’t stomach watching the games.”
“Yeah,” Cooper mumbled.
He’d catch bits and pieces here and there, but was never zoned in on gameday. Not anymore. Not since the accident. He found more joy in watching divisional opponents than the team he led to a Superbowl.
