Page 3 of Second Down Fake

“It’s a square. We all know that,” Lucas interjected.

I turned on the kicker. “Am I having a conversation with you, Golder? You know, for someone who doesn’t say five words during the season, you sure do run your mouth a lot.”

Annoyingly, Lucas threw back his head and laughed.

“Fine, I’ll let you two brain trusts work it out. One last piece of advice though, next time, don’t go out without this one’s babysitter.” Lucas hooked a thumb at Trent and turned back to his locker.

“First off, Frank is with his family because his father’s sick and second, he’s not my babysitter,” Trent snapped.

A small surge of guilt ran through me. I’d only agreed to go out with Trent because he was the only person as aimless as me this offseason. His roomie and best friend had traveled back home. Frank would be back in a couple of days, but Trent didn’t thrive alone. Though, in the brief bits of memory I recovered from last night, being alone didn’t seem to be much of a problem for him.

“Anyway, Coach called me in. So it’s not as if I’m not getting an ass chewing, too.”

That didn’t make me feel better. As team captain and a leader, I was supposed to set the example. Not get dragged into the press with my teammate. And I had a couple of years of age on Trent and a shit ton of maturity. Lucas was right. I knew better.

“What time are you meeting him?” I asked.

He checked his wrist. “Five minutes ago.”

I rolled my eyes, and Trent shot me a salute before waltzing toward the offices.

A quick shower and I had time to kill before my meeting with Coach Simmons. I took a detour, walking through the trainer’s suite of offices. Becca’s door sat open, the contents of her cozy office now in boxes, the light on, though she wasn’t inside. A quick check of the empty break room, and I resigned myself to not catching Becca until later. I’d stop by on my way out to say bye before she officially left the team.

The move hadn’t taken me completely off guard. Becca was an exceptional trainer who could have taken a job from any team in the country. But her home was New England, and when a trainer spot for their team opened up, a promotion and a pay raise included, I couldn’t blame her for leaving.

Five minutes to three and I raked a hand through my hair as I stood in front of Coach Simmons’ office door, steeling myself before I knocked.

“Come in,” he said.

I opened the door into the head coach’s office only to find James, my agent, sitting across the mahogany desk from Coach Nathan Simmons.

“James,” I said, glaring at him as I sat. Even on a weekend, he wore a tailored suit, blond hair slicked back. “You didn’t warn me you’d be joining us.”

“This seemed like a conversation that could use my expertise.”

James’ expertise normally involved getting me the biggest payday possible, so I couldn’t exactly blame him for showing up. No offense to Coach Simmons, but his expertise was winning football games and not much else. Certainly not public relations disasters like the one I’d stirred up.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Coach asked, steepling his fingers and leaning across the desk. The guy couldn’t have been more than a decade older than me, barely thirty-five, but depending on his facial expressions, could look anywhere from twenty to sixty. His forehead furrowed, eyes narrowed, clearly annoyed. Unlike James, he hadn’t dressed up for the occasion, sporting the same khaki-golf shirt combo he wore for practice.

“I’m well aware I screwed up.”

Besides telling an interviewer what a shit boyfriend I was, my ex had also liked multiple posts that alluded to the same opinion. Or outright stated it.

“What you’re probably not aware of is the fact I’ve fielded nearly a dozen calls this morning, not about our team’s pre-season, but for a statement about your off-field actions.”

I grimaced. “I wasn’t, but I want to apologize for my post last night.”

Coach Simmons’ hire as head coach ruffled a lot of feathers. He’d come in on a storm of controversy in the college football world, and half the first season’s fans had only tuned in to find out if he’d blow his shot in the pro league by continuing his college antics.

He hadn’t. If anything, he’d come onto the field a completely changed man. Not regarding his football genius. That was still intact. But the rumors and gossip that surrounded him faded to nothing. He’d given the press nothing about his life. Nothing other than a winning football team.

“I spoke to Trent. He’s on thin ice already,” he continued. “I’ve turned a blind eye to your…extracurriculars. I’m not doing that anymore.”

I glanced over at James, hoping for some support. He kept his eyes glued on the coach.

Coach Simmons sat back in his seat. “I don’t need distractions on this team. Not even from my starting quarterback. If you want to have your name in the tabloids, you can do it on another team.”

I blinked, stunned. “Excuse me?”

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