Page 75 of Love Game

“If you let Martin shit-can you, no one else will touch you.” Mike’s jaw tightened. “We both know any interest will dry up.”

Shaking his head, Danny let a slow smile unfurl as he savored the vehemence of Mike’s argument. He had to admit it was damn nice to have someone fighting for him for a change. “You know as well as I do that’s bullshit. There’s always someone willing to scrape the bottom of the barrel.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re tying you career choices to a woman who has every option.”

“That’s exactly the point,” Danny shot back, jumping on the one bit that neither could dispute. Kate had choices, and she chose him. “Who says she has to follow me? What if I follow her?”

“Jesus Christ, listen to yourself!”

“I am,” Danny said calmly. “You’re the one who’s not getting it.”

“There’s not a whole lot to get. Even if she were willing to move on, what makes you think you’ll end up even close to each other? What then? You looking forward to Saturday nights spent having Skype sex with your kick-ass girlfriend?”

Danny refused to be ruffled. Swallowing his impatience, he stared down one of the few friends who’d stuck with him through thick and thin. “Kate loves me.”

Mike pushed a hand through his hair as he exhaled his exasperation. “Points for that, but this is one of those instances where the love of a good woman isn’t going to save you.”

Clapping his old friend on the shoulder, Danny shrugged. “I appreciate the effort, but I’m not looking to be saved.”

“At least take the time. Think about it. Talk to Kate about it,” Mike implored. “Maybe you can agree to…cool things down—”

“Hell no.”

“—just for a while.”

“Not going to happen.”

Mike growled his frustration. “Talk to Kate,” he repeated, teeth clenched. “At least she has some sense.”

Danny treated his friend to a self-deprecating smirk. “Not as much as you’d think, given the fact that she fell for me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m hoping she’ll snap out of it when she figures out she might get saddled with another loser head-coach wannabe.”

Danny’s head snapped back like he’d just been horse-collar tackled. Mike’s earnest brown eyes filled with horror as the words sank in.

“Oh, man,” Mike murmured. “I’m sorry. That was low.”

Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out, Danny took a step back and cut a wide swath around the athletic director, his eyes fixed on the athletic complex at the far end of the quad. “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll be sure to do that.”

* * *

Danny was relieved to find the track empty when he stepped out of the locker room but surprised to see members of the marching band stomping all over the infield. The kids were dressed in shorts and tees—a far cry from the heavy, dark uniforms they’d wear in the fall. Instead of carrying their instruments, they each held an electronic tablet. He paused beside the bleachers to stretch, his curiosity piqued by the odd syncopation of their steps. From his vantage point, they looked like a writhing mass of bodies, but judging from the ecstatic cry of, “Yes! That’s it! Back to the transition!” that boomed from the PA system, something must have worked when viewed from above.

He straightened from a hamstring stretch in time to see the group disintegrate into even more chaos. Spotting a few of the drumline guys standing off to the side, he started toward them at a trot. “What’s going on, fellas?”

The guys jumped, but then one of them hitched his harness a little higher and smiled. “Hey, Coach. We’re just practicing some new choreography.”

Danny’s brow puckered. He didn’t normally pay much attention to the nonathletic elements of the game, but he’d always appreciated the marching band. Though some of these kids might never have touched a ball in their lives, they were an integral part of the college football experience.

“Don’t you guys get the summer off?”

The boy smiled and shrugged. “Some of it. We have competition in two weeks, then we’ll come back early to start rehearsals for the halftime shows.”

Danny affected a fierce scowl. “Is that so? Well, I guess I’ll need to get those slackers on my team back for two-a-days even earlier. I can’t have the band running circles around the defensive line, can I?”

The boy snorted and tapped his sticks against the rim of his drum. “Yeah, Coach, better get ’em back.”

Nodding to the two others, Danny shook out his arms and legs. “Well, I’d better get to it, or you’ll be running over me too. Give me a little something to set the tempo, will ya?”

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