Page 143 of The Play

Deacon didn’t always know what the offensive game plan was, but when Riley came out throwing, it was clear it was an aggressive one.

Riley’s first pass was a thirty-five yard arc of beauty, right into Carter’s hands—and that wasn’t all either. He kept throwing, holding it once and running for a much-needed third down, until they got to the red zone, and then the defense, Deacon recognized, was gearing up for yet another pass.

But Riley handed off the ball to Darius, who dodged between two offensive line blocks to catapult right into the end zone.

“Come on, let’s get this shit done,” Deacon said to Nate as they gathered their helmets.

The Packers were never slouches, even when they weren’t playing at Lambeau, but this was the first year of a new quarterback, after Aaron Rodgers had been traded. Jordan Love didn’t quite have his feet under him and as he got set, Deacon could sense blood in the water.

No doubt he’d been hearing all week about the Condors’ intense pass rush, and Deacon intended to make it not just a fear, but a reality.

Deacon leaned down, gloved fingers digging into the turf, met the eyes of the offensive lineman across from him, and took a deep breath and then another, waiting for the center to snap the ball.

The moment he did, he launched himself, grappling with the lineman as he attempted to block Deacon. But Deacon had been making mincemeat out of these guys for a long fucking time, and he pushed him to the side, using his sheer strength to break the block, and took off, sprinting around the corner to hit the quarterback, but Nate had already come around the other side, and a moment before Deacon got there, he took Love right down.

“Hell yes,” Deacon bellowed, holding out a hand for Nate, helping him up after the whistle blew and giving him a quick embrace.

Nate’s face was shining. He’d come along so well, after Jem had gone down with his injury. With how satisfying coaching Nate had been, for a bit Deacon had been sure that maybe he wanted to be a coach.

But ever since Grant had suggested that he should be a scout—his own personal scout, in fact—helping impact the direction the Condors took tomorrow and for every year going forward . . .well, he couldn’t lie, that sounded better than coaching ever had.

Of course, it was risky too, because what if working together added pressure to the relationship he shared with Grant?

But even that worry had fallen apart, because hadn’t they worked together all year? Hadn’t he been integral in Grant’s buying and rebuilding the team? And all that closeness had only made them stronger and more in love than ever.

Deacon wanted to talk to Jem about it—in person, not on the phone—when he came to Miami for the final Piranhas game.

Nate’s sack on the first play of the Packers’ drive not only set the tone for the defense, but it energized everyone.

Three plays later, the Packers punted.

It was the first time during the game, but it wouldn’t be the last.

They got two first downs only in the first half, and with the Condors offense scoring another touchdown and a field goal, right before halftime, the Condors went into the locker room leading seventeen to zero.

“Great game so far,” Riley said, clapping Deacon on the back as he sat down on the bench.

“You’re the one tearing it up,” Deacon said.

Riley raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think Love’s gotten a chance to drop back without seeing you or Nate or even Beck in his vision. That’s impressive. He’s gonna have freaking nightmares about you guys.”

“That’s the idea,” Beck said.

“You’re making it so fucking easy on me,” Micah complained as he joined them. “I’m shadowing these guys downfield, but they’ve not got a chance to even catch a ball. Love’s not even got a freaking chance to throw the ball.”

“You’re welcome,” Beck said, patting him on the back, grinning.

“Ugh,” Micah said. “Make me work for it, at least.”

“Oh, honey, I’m gonna,” Beck teased.

Deacon made a face, because ugh, Beck and Micah’s sex life, but deep down, he was both amused and pleased.

How could he be anything else when it finally felt like the Condors had their shit together again?

“And here I thought I was the king of oversharing,” Carter teased.

Micah shot him an unimpressed look. “You fucking are,” he said.

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