Page 8 of Trapped and Tackled

“More time in the swimming pool,” I repeat Coach Stevens’ words.

“It’s good for resistance training. Not to mention, recovery,” Coach Stevens explains. “As we segue from training camp into preseason, I want you to make it part of your conditioning routine. You don’t always have to come out this way. It’s fine if you want to hit a pool in the city.”

“Got it,” I confirm, feeling a headache forming.

Today was a long day and while I don’t expect any less from training camp, incorporating additional pool time and strength-training exercises is another thing to stack into my routine.

“All good, Miller?” Stevens presses, looking at me curiously.

I rap my knuckles against the edge of his desk and stand. “Great.” I flash a smirk and shoulder my bag. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.”

“Yep,” I say, leaving his office.

By the time I drive home and collapse onto my couch, I’m beat. And I don’t know why. The physical intensity and demanding rigor of training camp is nothing new. I’ve stayed in shape and continued my conditioning since the season ended, not counting a month or two that I spent reveling in our Super Bowl win.

There were parties. Wild events. And willing women.

It was chaotic fun. A high I’d never experienced before.

But now it’s over and…there’s a mental toll that’s hitting me. I wasn’t prepared for it but I’m tired. Drained.

Lonely.

I pick up my phone to scroll through some social media accounts. Weddings, puppies, newborn babies, and cute toddlers with pigtails. Most of my teammates from the University of Oregon have settled down. They’ve found jobs coaching or in broadcasting. A few became finance or tech guys. They’ve purchased homes with expansive properties and swimming pools. Some of them have gotten married and started a family. Others have adopted rescue dogs and spend their weekends hiking or mountain biking. A handful have scattered across the US, or gone abroad, for employment.

Hell, even the guys on my team are moving forward.

West has Nova and their sweet baby girl.

Cohen’s tied up with Raia.

Avery’s got a new flavor of the week nearly every week.

Quincy is dating some single mom he’s had the hots for since high school.

Who knows what the hell Jag does but he’s not around often.

And Gutierrez is tight with his family so even if he’s not actively dating, he’s also not sitting on his couch alone ninety-nine percent of the time.

Sighing, I tip my head back and drop my phone.

I hate how melancholy I feel. I hate that the highlight of my day was meeting Coach’s daughter and finally putting a face to the quirky girl who tried to paint Coach’s nails in team colors before his first coaching gig.

I detest the way my body reacted to seeing her. The lightness that spread through my limbs. The hope that expanded in my chest.

Damn. I squeeze my eyes shut. There’s something wrong with me.

Forcing myself to stand from the couch, I make my way to the kitchen and microwave some chicken breast and broccoli I meal-prepped on Sunday.

Then I sit down and eat dinner alone—the way I do most nights. I prepare my bag for camp tomorrow. I look up the free swim schedule at the city pool.

And I go to sleep. Even though I’m physically exhausted and mentally screwed up, I can’t fight the thoughts of a sweet blonde I have no business thinking about.

Chapter 3

Leni

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