“Logan does. Think we could ask him to make this a threesome?” Scott laughs.
Heather gives me a quick once-over. “He’s too skinny.”
“Hey! I take offense to that.” I squirt water in her direction.
“He’d snap like a twig,” Scott says.
“Please. I’ve bulked up.”
The two of them laugh as I show them my muscles.
“Whatever you say, kid.” Scott pats me on the cheek as he walks by. “I’ll see you for more tomorrow.”
“I thought I had the day off,” I whine.
Scott crosses his arms that are the size of my head.
He’s right—they’d snap me like a twig.
“You want to be ready for your physical next month?”
“Yes,” I grumble.
“Then you’ll be here tomorrow. Have you talked to the team yet?”
“Left them a voicemail.”
Scott doesn’t say anything. He gives me an assessing look, trying to figure out if I’m lying.
Which I’m not. Not entirely.
I left them a voicemail last week to give them an update and then ignored their return call.
The thought of talking to the team makes everything I’ve been training for more real. I’ve been putting in the hard work.
I want to be back more than anything.
Yet, the thought still terrifies me because I’ve been away from the game for so long.
“Fine,” Scott grinds out. “Don’t go crazy with those brothers of yours.”
It’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about these last few months. Up until recently, every day was a struggle.
Surgery after surgery.
Learning how to walk again.
Figuring out if I could ever play football again.
Football was my life up until last year when one bad hit took it away from me. I’ve missed an entire season and now most of another one. Watching my team get knocked out one game away from a second Super Bowl was hard.
This year? This year, I’m hoping to get back on the field if we make the playoffs.
If my leg will allow it.
“Logan. You ready?”
The familiar voice shouts from the garage door of the gym. With it being a warmer November day, the doors are thrown open to let in the breeze.
