Page 71 of Second Down Fake

“Front yard, I’d imagine. Can you put me down? Someone installed the inlet and outlet backward.”

“What does that mean?”

She buzzed past me, and I followed her up the stairs.

“It means you need to get a shit ton of towels, and I need to figure out how to shut off the water to your house. Do you have a toolbox?” she asked. I grimaced. “Okay. Not a big deal. I’ll grab some stuff from the kitchen and figure it out. Can you make some berms? You’re gonna want to contain the water and hope it doesn’t warp your floors.”

“I can call someone. You don’t need to worry about this,” I reassured her. Could I just let the basement flood and convince her upstairs? Probably not.

“Unless they can come in the next fifteen minutes, maybe it’s better you let me handle this. Don’t worry. I’ll charge you for my time.” She scooped up an assortment of utensils from the kitchen with a wink and darted outside.

I gathered up every towel in my house, stopping to google what the hell a berm was before I set a rolled-up towel at each doorway and sopped up the water gushing out of the heater. By the time I secured the doorways, the flood coming out of the water heater had receded to a trickle.

Cassandra returned, a faint sheen of sweat on her brow and her hair in disarray. “Well, that was an adventure. I’ve never turned off a main water shut off with a spaghetti server before. Also, I owe you a pair of tongs.”

She dropped to the ground, grabbing a towel from the pile beside me and sopping up the water.

I could find an open receiver in double coverage. I could deadlift five-hundred pounds. I could run a sub-five second forty-yard dash. But what the hell could I do off the field?

Not much, clearly.

“How’d you learn to do that?” I asked in awe.

She shrugged. “I’m capable of anything if I’m brave enough and watch enough DIY videos.”

“Wow,” I blinked. “That’s a life motto.”

“It’s served me well. I conned someone into giving me a job as an apartment manager thanks to that motto.”

I sat back on my haunches, turning to face Cassandra. “You’re phenomenal.”

“I’m a college dropout with a resume longer than most chain store pharmacy receipts and a family that thinks I’m squandering my potential. But, yeah, I guess I can also shut off the main water valve.” She kept her eyes glued to the floor, soaking up a small pond gathered in front of the bathroom.

My stomach clenched at the biting assessment. One that sounded completely unlike the woman who let problems roll off her like water off a duck. The woman who didn’t give a shit what anyone thought.

Or so I thought. The brief glimpse into her thoughts took me off guard. Made me mad at whoever put those thoughts into her head.

“And all I can do is throw a football and run. I can’t identify water heaters or mix a bourbon sour or charm a group of tourists.” I brushed her arm, letting my fingers slide down her forearm and my hand settle on hers until she looked up. “You’re a Renaissance woman, and that’s way better.”

Her eyes reluctantly met mine with a shy smile. “A Renaissance woman. I like that.”

I like you.

The words stalled on my lips as she swept up the soaked towels in her arms, some sense of order restored to my basement and her confidence. She dropped the towels into the washer and turned to face the broken water heater. “I could swap that one out, but honestly, you’re loaded. Get a tankless heater.”

“I don’t know what that is,” I admitted. “So, I’m gonna need some help picking one out.”

“I’ll call a plumber in the morning.” She held her hand up as I opened my mouth to object. “Just let me handle it. Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything other than football.”

“Is that all you think I’m good for?” I asked with a grin. I set a hand on the washer, crowding her space.

She leaned closer. “Maybe that’s not all you’re good for.”

“Are we going to talk about Las Vegas?”

“Do we have to?” She glanced up at me with a wan smile. “What if it goes poorly and I don’t want to find someone to replace your water heater anymore?”

“I’m willing to chance it if you are.” She pursed her lips, drawing a sigh from my lips. “I don’t think I can forget about that night as easily as you can.”

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