Page 2 of Made Better Together

“Yeah, I’m going to kick some balls around.” Not a lie—I just didn’t say what kind of ball.

“Nice. You hear from your agent yet?”

I’m not surprised he’s checking in; it’s what he does. He’d asked me a couple of times if I needed money for school this year, so I’d finally shared my situation with him.

“No, but it’s the Fourth of July? He’s probably not working.”

“Sure, sure. Keep me posted.”

I’m glad he’s focused on the money, all things considered.

It’ll take me longer to tell Landon about exploring the football path than Rawley. I’ll need to be certain it’s a go. Otherwise, he’ll attempt to get involved before I’m ready for any guidance.

If anything, I’ll probably tell our twenty-three-year-old sister, Grace, before him. Which is kind of funny, because he’s the reason I’m doing this in the first place.

After my world was rocked last year by the U19 team news, Landon, a middle linebacker for the Waves, introduced me to the veteran placekicker on the team, Del Larsson. Del had notoriously switched from soccer to football after he graduated from college. He’s now earned millions in his storied NFL career.

As this summer approached with no clear plan for my life, I realized that maybe an NFL kicker route was worth investigating.

And you know what? Thank fuck I texted Del to ask for help. Because the eight secret sessions with him since I arrived in Orlando late May? I’ve loved them.

This morning, it’s time for lesson nine, and I don’t expect my attitude toward the experience to change.

“Alright, see ya,” I say to Landon, so I can be spared any more questions.

The drive to the fields of Tolliver University, where Del’s been teaching me, has that classic peaceful feel of a holiday morning when everyone’s taking it easy. Cars are sparse on the highway, and the miles pass quickly.

It’s a good sign the practice field will be quiet. Widely considered the best university in Florida, Tolliver is where Grace received her Master’s in Business Administration last year. Its sports facilities are top-notch, fitting for a D1 school. On normal days, that also means they’re packed.

Once I pull up to park near our designated spot, my speculation proves correct. Del’s already here, setting up on the football field. Otherwise, only a few others are using the track that wraps around it, and someone is dribbling a soccer ball on the opposite end.

When I make my way down the stairs to the field, Del waves. “Morning, Connor.”

I like him. He’s always upbeat, and his demeanor with me is fatherly in a positive, caring way.

As I approach the area he’s claimed, the soccer player I spotted earlier is juggling a ball. Doing it well, too. Still fifty yards away, but I can tell now that the player’s a woman.

Who she is becomes apparent when Del shouts in her direction.

“Eden, come meet Connor.” He turns back to explain, “That’s my daughter. She’ll be a freshman at Tolliver in the fall.”

“She plays soccer?”

Del’s smile widens, and his eyes light up with pride. “Even better than her old man did. She just got back from the U19 national training camp.”

Damn, that means she’s in the top two dozen or so of the US women in that age bracket. Unlike me on the men’s side last year. A twinge squeezes my chest briefly.

All such thoughts wash away, though, as Eden comes close enough for me to see her. The halo glare from the beating Florida sun made it hard to focus on her features before, but now I appreciate what I was missing.

A lot, it turns out, because Eden Larsson is stunning.

I take in her bright blue-green eyes, her rich honey-colored hair pulled into a ponytail, her cheeks pink from her workout. Glancing down past her short navy gym shorts, the compact, lean muscles of her legs show off the fitness demanded at her level.

As if that was not enough, when my eyes ping back to her face, those turquoise eyes shine with a keen intelligence, and there’s a magnetic aura of confidence radiating off her too.

All of this, all of her, renders me mute. Trying to seem like I’m not just staring, I reach to adjust my glasses, until I remember I have my contacts in.

“Hi Connor, great to meet you. Dad’s told me a lot about you.” Her voice has a singsong quality, while also conveying a self-assurance underneath.