Page 5 of Their Greatest Strength

“It’s such a waste of time doing interviews. What did she ask you about, anyway?”

Coach negotiated for the hours during which the media should be allowed on the field but was only given so much leeway. So, now they show up in pairs whenever the hell they want to, and we’re forced to entertain them. It’s been taxing on the team.

I steal a glance at Coach when he glares down at his clipboard and stalks in the opposite direction of the reporter headinghis way. It’ll be a tense locker room in a few minutes, and that’s not my favourite environment by a long shot.

“She wanted to talk about you, actually,” I say, propping my hands on my hips. “Our chemistry and the shock of my contract.”

Hayes scowls. “They make it seem like I hated you last season.”

Chase barks a laugh. “In reality, you’re just a grumpy motherfucker and used to take that attitude on the field with you.”

Jaxon launches the football down the field and into the arms of a running back lingering near Coach after being done with his interview.

“Fuck off.”

I pull my helmet off and shake my hair out, droplets of sweat flinging. Jaxon shoves me aside and leads us down the field toward the entrance to the stadium.

“Hey, you’re better now. That’s what counts,” I offer.

Chase blows a kiss at the receiver coach as we pass. “You’re still an asshole, Jax, but at least you drop the hole for game day.”

“Nothing like the Pythons’ QB dropping his hole on the sidelines.” I let loose a loud laugh, leaning into Chase’s side. “Maybe that’s why we’ve been punished with the media. We’re cleaning up your filthy messes.”

Jaxon curses us out and jogs away. We run after him, both of us laughing too hard to stand properly. A loud, intimidating-as-hell voice cuts through our laughter.

“Bateman! Get back here, will you?”

Chase sucks in a sharp breath, glancing over his shoulder. “The fuck did you do, J?”

“Other than flirt with the pretty reporter? Nothing.”

“Of course you did,” Jaxon grumbles. “You know Coach’s got eyes in the back of his head.”

I shift my body to face the players on the team heading our way. “It was harmless! There’s no rule about not flirting that I know of.”

“Ready to get spanked, Bateman?” Zach asks mid-stride, his long blond hair tied in a bun behind his head.

“I’ve always liked a bit of spanking.”

He barks a laugh and passes me with a smack on my ass. “Make sure you let Graham Warren know that.”

“Wait, you’re talking?—”

“About the owner? Yup. He joined Coach a couple’a minutes ago.”

“Shit,” I curse before pivoting and taking off back down the field.

For Coach to be staying after practice is saying something. He’s not the type to stay longer than necessary, and after getting to know him over the last three years, I can safely say that he would have told the owner of the team exactly that if it weren’t for something non-negotiable.

I’ve never met a guy so desperate to leave once time is up than Coach. I always wondered if he had a wife at home or something, but there’s never been a ring on his finger.

Graham Warren, the owner of the BC Pythons football team, looks exactly how one would imagine a forty-five-year-old white dude with more money than I’d ever know what to do with. He’s shorter than me for a change, with silver hair cropped short and Botox keeping his frown lines from becoming permanent.

Standing rigid on a football field in a full navy suit and glossy black shoes, he stares at me with expectance. Like he’s already prepared for me to agree to whatever it is he’s planning on asking me.

I clear my throat, smoothing a hand down the front of my jersey. “What’s up?”

Coach tugs at his mustache, checking me over. For someone in their mid-thirties, he looks as young as I do. And his casual clothes make him stand out beside Graham. He looks a bit more human.

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