Page 160 of The Play

But it had become very clear it was, and that Deacon was ready, too, to move on and start his new job as a scout.

Grant had asked him if he wanted to do an official retirement ceremony at the Condors’ facility, or if he just wanted to record a message for Nicole to post on social media.

He’d assumed that Deacon would vote for the latter, but to his surprise, Deacon had insisted that he wanted the full ceremony, with introduction, and the media present, too.

“I have things I want to say,” he’d said.

Grant understood.

Because he also had things to say—and he knew there were others who would want to say a few words in honor of Deacon.

Of course, Deacon didn’t know about that.

He only thought he’d be giving his speech, and then Grant would be getting up and giving a few remarks of his own.

The audience was filling up—there were a lot of media representatives here, of course, but also a lot of players had come as well. Carter was there, with Ian next to him. Micah and Beck, Jem sitting with them. Riley and Landry had flown in, looking tanned and rested.

Spencer Evans, from the Riptide, had shown up, unexpectedly, along with his husband, power agent Alec Mitchell.

A number of NFL coaches had also asked to attend. Jonathan Kelley, of course. And then Grant had been a little bit shocked when Asa Dawson, Scott Callaway, and Rudy Gonzalez had reached out. But they were here, taking up most of one of the middle rows, along with Beau Dawson and his boyfriend, safety Sebastian Howard.

But even more than that, sitting next to Sebastian was Davis Abernathy, the first time he’d set foot back in the Condors’ facility since he’d been unceremoniously booted out.

When Asa Dawson had reached out, Grant had made it clear that Davis was always welcome—after all, he’d played with Deacon for many years—but that he’d also understood if it was too much to ask for him to come back.

But there Davis was, sitting in a dark suit next to Pax Kelly, their heads close and their hands clasped together tightly. Deacon had gone over to him when he’d appeared, given him a long hug, and that had probably been the first moment today when Grant hadn’t been sure he’d make it out of this room without bawling like a baby.

It was a large group, and they’d all come, going out of their way during the offseason, to pay tribute to the man Deacon was. The man Grant loved.

Nicole approached. “Are you two ready to go? Deacon?”

Deacon swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“And Mr. G, you wanted to go first.”

“I felt like it was appropriate I introduce you,” Grant said, patting Deacon on the chest when he shot him a look full of disbelief.

“But I told you, I wanted you to go second,” Deacon said.

“Yes, and only because you were afraid you were going to cry. I promise. I will keep the tear-inducing comments to a minimum. You can take care of those all on your own.”

Deacon sighed. “Fine. But if I need a moment after you introduce me . . .”

“You’ll have whatever time you need,” Nicole promised him.

“You ready for this?” Grant asked when she left, heading towards the podium at the front of the room.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to get up and try to say all this without losing it,” Deacon said honestly. “But all these people came for me. To hear me. You’re here, too. I think I can make a genuine effort, at least.”

Grant pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “That’s all that’s required.”

“Good luck,” Deacon said wryly.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” Grant teased.

Deacon shot him one last knowing look, and then Nicole was walking up to the podium.

“Thank you all for coming today. First up, the Charleston Condors’ owner Grant Green wishes to make a few comments about this important day.”

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