“I passed.”
“Barely.”
“I went pro.” I twist my lips while strumming my fingers on my knee.
“And yet,” she says evenly, “you’re sitting in my office.”
Silence slams between us.
She studies me, then asks calmly, “Why are you here, Parker? The Armadillos made the appointment and wanted me to go in blind without any preconceived notions of what you need.”
Something snaps.
I stand so fast the chair scrapes loudly across the floor.
“Forget it,” I growl. “This was a mistake.” I head for the door, anger burning hot in my chest—not at her, not really, but at the fact that she sees me too clearly.
I yank the door open.
“Parker.”
I don’t stop.
The door slams behind me, echoing down the hall. “Run if you want,” she calls after me, her voice sharp and steady. “But you’ll be back. Because you need me.”
I pause, fist clenched at my side.
“You can’t stand not knowing why you’re stuck,” she continues. “And you hate even more that it might mean you’re not automatically better than your brothers.”
Well, there goes her professionalism.
Her accusation hits hard. My feet stutter as I walk out, letting her words follow me all the way back to my car.
Need her?
She’s out of her damn mind.
Starting the car, I push on the clutch and change gears, peeling out of the office parking lot.
Need her?
I don’t need her.
Rubber burns as my speed climbs quickly onto the highway. All I can think about is how much I want to play football until I’m at least thirty. Hell, my brothers’ playing careers have lasted into their late thirties.
Need her?
She wishes.
A quarterback from another team went to a Buddhist temple last year to get his mind right. Did it work? He tookhis team to the playoffs for the first time in thirty years. Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.
But I can’t go in the middle of the season. Maybe I should try acupuncture or meditation.
Need her?
I don’t need her, but I did promise Noelle and Sutton that I would give it a chance.
As much as I hate to admit it, Annika’s right.
