Page 155 of Colliding with Ten

A menacing smile touched my lips, and I didn’t care. “You think I need a leak to read a defense? I’ve been in this league for five years. I spent eighteen hours that week watching films on their defense. As for Stokes, our defensive coordinator watched him favor his right side in the third quarter of the Seattle game. That’s not classified intelligence. We did our jobs.”

“But the timing⁠—”

“The timing is irrelevant. Ayla Callahan is disciplined and ethical. In all the time we’ve spent together, she has never betrayed the trust of her team or the privacy of a single player.”

A reporter jumped in. “How much time did you spend together?”

I didn’t dignify the question with an answer. “She didn’t earn that fellowship because of her brother, and she didn’t keep it for me. She’s brilliant at what she does. If the Hawks are foolish enough to let a talent like hers go because of a headline, that’s their loss. But don’t sit in front of me and question her character to cover for a team that couldn’t protect their end zone.”

The room was silent. The cameras clicked as my words went into the record, becoming the quote that would be replayed and debated.

A voice from the back: “Are you saying the relationship is serious? Will it impact your career?”

I looked at the camera again. “My career is fine. I’m still the QB1 you’re all terrified to bet against.” I paused. “But if being serious means standing up for a woman who has more integrity in her pinky finger than members of the press who have been fabricating allegations? Then yeah. We’re serious.”

I leaned back from the mic. “Next question.”

After the press conference, I went straight to my phone and called Ayla. I got her voicemail again.

“It’s me. I did a press conference and told them the truth. Please call me back. I need to hear your voice.”

I sat in the facility parking lot for ten minutes, staring at my phone, willing it to ring. This bad feeling rose in my chest, pressing against my lungs. Again, I thought of her being gone, like after the night we were together, except this time she had every reason to run. But no, I had to fight those doubts. We were bonded now. It was as real as anything I’d ever felt.

Jace saw me later in the hallway outside the locker room. He took one look at my face and knew. “Still nothing?”

“Voicemail. Every time.”

He was thinking. “You want me to get AJ’s number? I could track it down through⁠—”

“No.” The word came out harsh. So I breathed and calmed down. “That’s the last thing I should do right now. I don’t know what’s happening in New York, but calling her brother is not going to help.”

Jace nodded. He stayed with me for a little while. “She’ll reach out.”

“You said that last night.”

“And I’ll keep saying it until she does.”

“Didn’t know you had so much faith in her.”

“We have an understanding.”

I frowned but didn’t push for more. He would tell me if it was important.

When I got home, the house's quiet wasn’t peaceful, and the rain outside didn’t help. Sitting with my tablet, I queued up a game film because a ring was still on the line, and the world didn’t stop while mine fell apart. I watched coverage schemes and blitz packages, trying to absorb them through the noise in my head.

Every few minutes, I picked up my phone to check for any notifications from her. The cycle was familiar. I’d lived it before, but that time, the stakes were a text message, proof that I existed in her day. This was different.

By ten o’clock, I was frustrated. I picked up my phone and pulled up Jace’s contact. He’d offered to track down AJ’s number. It was a terrible idea. But I had no options left. If calling her brother was the only way to know she was okay, then I’d deal with the consequences.

My thumb clicked Jace’s name when I heard a small knock at the door. I crossed the living room and checked the security feed. The screen showed a small figure on my porch, alone under the light.

I opened the door, and standing there was Ayla.

37

THE RECOVERY

AYLA