Page 52 of Gridlocked on the Gridiron

She cleared her throat. “Just remember that a loss isn’t just on you. That this season is still salvageable. But most importantly, remember that you’re more than your team’s record and your stats. Don’t let them make you think otherwise, okay?” She squeezed his hand.

And just like that, the rest of the tension in his body was gone. It’d taken her a few sentences and a squeeze of his hand for her to ease the stress of the game. He couldn’t believe she’d ever thought that she was only an analyst when her mere presence comforted him more than anything or anybody else. He wanted to beg her to never leave so he could always feel so at peace.

Instead, he asked, “See you on the plane?”

“Can’t very well stay here, can I?” She grinned, squeezing his hand once more before heading in the direction of the team busses.

When he’d asked Lucia to come over to hang out and watch a movie the next night, he’d thought he would get more resistance. He knew he had agreed with her stupid rule not to fraternize outside of work, but he didn’t care for it one bit. He was chasing the feeling he’d had in his grasp that night with her at his house. Hell, he was chasing the high he had been feeling since the moment she’d walked into that damn boardroom.

He’d known he was attracted to her from the beginning. But this was something else entirely. This was making up reasons to see her. This was finding ways to touch her. This was trying to spend the little bit of free time that he had with her, even if it meant being more tired than he was used to the next morning. Though that could’ve been because of the thoughts about her that kept him up at night.

Having her pressed against him—like he had in his hotel room a few nights before, held tight to his chest until his coach had woken them with a loud bang on his hotel door—was decidedly his new favorite way to sleep.

He knew he was only digging himself a deeper hole, knew he was only biding his time until he inevitably got hurt, because she so obviously didn’t feel as strongly for him as he did for her. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. If this was all the time he’d get with her, just until the beginning of January, he would try to make it count as much as she’d let him.

His phone rang, and he answered, entering the pin to let Lucia up his driveway. His heart was beating faster than normal as he tidied around the couch Maya had helped him find, along with all the rest of his decor. He set out a blanket, trying to create the illusion of comfort his sister always seemed to talk about when she visited.

He walked to the tall door, taking a breath after the second knock before opening it. Lucia stood there in a pair of black sweatpants—likely from her time with the Vipers, but he had no way of confirming that—and the Sabers sweatshirt he’d given her. She was weighed down by two bags of…Were those groceries?

“I want to make it abundantly clear that, yes, I am breaking my rule about not hanging out with you outside of work, but it’s only because I feel bad about the overtime rules and I know how grumpy you are about the loss. And there were reporters outside, so really, this is for Tessa. And also, you’re my only friend here.” A lie, but he’d let her get away with it. He was starting to think he’d let her get away with anything.

He took the heavy bags from her. “What’s all this?”

“Oh. That. That’s because I rarely see you eat anything but pizza, and I think it’s high time you eat something healthy.”

“You’re…You’re cooking for me?”

“Think of it as ‘I’m here despite knowing I shouldn’t be, and if I were home, like I’m supposed to be, I’d be making this for myself.’ So you just happen to be with me on a day I’m actually cooking. But don’t think you’ll just be sitting around. I’m putting you to work.”

And, boy, did she. He chopped all the vegetables for the salad as she worked on the pasta and chicken. He’d never had much time to learn how to cook, so he rarely did so for himself. Landon and Maya were the chefs of his family, and it was probably best that way.

They worked in silence, the sounds of chicken sizzling and water boiling mixing with the smells of Italian food.

After a while, she spoke. “Okay. In exchange for this lovely and delicious meal, you have to tell me something.”

He chuckled. “I knew you weren’t doing this out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Never.”

“Shoot.”

“The first day I was here, you mentioned something about having my best friend sleep with your tight end to win our rivalry game. Explain.”

Colton sighed. He didn’t want to talk about it because he didn’t even know what to believe. On the other hand, he owed her an explanation, especially if he’d been wrong.

“Isabella and Vinny were together around the time of our rivalry game.”

“Yeah.”

“After Lincoln won, Clark found me on the field. He told me about how Vinny had been talking to her about our plays, and that’s how you guys beat us. I confronted Vinny, and he denied it, but I just thought he was trying to save his skin.”

After a few years had passed, Colton didn’t think too often about what’d happened. He had only relived the loss of the national title when the Sabers played the Vipers. But it had replayed more often in his mind when Lucia started working with him. Where before he’d felt angry and powerless thinking about it, he now only felt tired. It had been so long ago, and he didn’t care as much, especially now that he’d learned it probably wasn’t true.

Lucia set down the wooden spoon in her hand and turned to face Colton. “I can swear to you on my life that Isa was not interested in your playbook. She was just hooking up with Vinny. I…” She sighed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Max just said that to piss you off.”

Colton nodded, having realized as much over the past few months. He owed Vinny an apology. “I think so too. But I didn’t realize that until recently. I just believed him, and that fueled my hatred for him, and for you, for years.”

“Well, you guys hated each other long before that game.”

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