Page 74 of Game Face

But before I do any of that, I need to get down on one knee in front of Peyton and ask her to marry me. I’m still a little anxious about her answer, even though I know her heart will want to say yes. It’s her head I need to convince.

Believing me has never been something she’s shied away from. I’ll simply have to remind her of that.

Naturally, Kelly Brooks fromAthleticois the first to ask me about the draft. I know he’ll push even after I answer, but I stick to my plan.

“I’m not thinking about that. We have two games left to play. I want to help position this team for the future. I intend on being there for Hampton and showing him what I can. That’s as far as it goes for me right now.”

I glance to my right, meeting Bryce’s eyes. He knows my plan to sit out a year, and while he’s not thrilled at the prospect of entering the draft with me, there’s a little piece of him that’s also fired up because of the competition. Who knows, maybe our rivalry will push me to be better next year as well.

“Okay, so is Hampton getting the start next week?” Kelly presses.What a pain in the ass this guy is!

“As we’ve said before, these are questions you’ll have to ask Coach Byers when it’s his turn,” Bryce answers, repeating the same words I used a few questions ago. “Neither of us is dumb enough to speak for him.”

I shoot Bryce a lopsided smirk, then roll my wrist over to check the time on my watch. I want to get to Peyton’s house before the sun goes down, but that window is narrowing.

“Go on,” Bryce says, covering his mic and leaning into me.

“You sure?” I whisper.

“Yeah, I’ll just answer for you the same way I do for Coach. And then maybe they can haul my dad in here for more questions since he’s eager to talk.” We both laugh while the press members lean in, attempting to eavesdrop.

“I’m sorry, y’all, but I have somewhere I need to be. Thanks for understanding.”

I push my chair back amid the flashes from still cameras and a few shouted questions that I’ve either answered or dodged already, and after a short lecture from our media manager, I slip out to the back parking lot and hop in my truck.

I make it about five miles before my phone rings with a call from Peyton. I smile, laughing silently as I answer with a voice command.

“Yes?”

I know she watched the press conference. They all did. It was part of the deal that everything went along as normal. The only wild card in the situation was Buck, but Rose promised she’d keep his mouth shut until after I proposed.

I asked Reed for his permission after I snuck the ring out of Peyton’s sock drawer. As terrifying as facing the Ohio State defensive line is, it’s nothing compared to asking Reed Johnson for his daughter’s hand in marriage.

He had his reservations at first, like his daughter’s worries that I’m giving up on my own dreams—being impulsive or desperate. But I have an answer for everything, and I know what I want—I want my life with her. I want to be the one she leans on for the hard road ahead. And I would hate myself for missing a minute of it.

Peyton’s uncle helped me parse out my options, having spent years as Reed’s agent. He knows the game well, even the seedy part behind the scenes where negotiations and trades get ugly.He kept Reed out of a lot of bad contracts, and when I do go pro, I want him in my corner. After looking at his projections, I was pleasantly surprised. By holding out a year, my draft number improves, assuming I perform well at next year’s combine. I’ll get an automatic bid for deferring. And Jason will make sure that promise sticks.

“You want to enlighten me on where exactly it is you have to be, in the middle of a damn press conference?” She’s only a little serious. Mostly, she’s sassy.

“Yeah, well, it’s somewhere important,” I say, stringing her along.

Her sigh comes through my speakers, and I laugh.

“I hear you,” she chides.

“Oh, I don’t doubt you do. You hear everything.”

“That’s not true,” she says, but quickly backpaddles. “Besides, you’re bad at sneaking up on people. And youdosnore a little. And whose toes crack that much when they walk around at night.”

“Wow, you’re getting it all off your chest,” I muse. Man, is she going to feel bad when my knee pops as I drop down to propose. I’m sure she’ll hear it.

I toy with her for a few more minutes, until I can tell she’s genuinely getting irritated, and then I tell her to wait for me outside with Otis.

“I already took a shower. I don’t want to get dirty,” she argues.

“Well, you’ll have to take another one. I’ll help you.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure you deserve to. But fine. I’ll meet you outside.”

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