Page 83 of Final Down

I turn around and look out at Reed, his finger waggling as he heats up with his lecture. Unable to help myself, I let out a howl and hold up my fists when my father-in-law’s head pops up to look at me.

“He fucking did it! I’m playing for Arizona! At home!”

It takes Reed a few seconds to react vocally, but when he does, it’s with a very loud, “Fuck yeah!”

I turn back to Bryce and launch myself over the fence to hug him like a brother.

“Dude, you did it!” I pat his back hard, and he lifts me off my feet.

“Youdid it. I’m just the negotiator,” he says. I’d rather throw the ball than do his work any day. He has earned his cut.

“There’s more,” he says, when we pull apart.

My heart is beating so fast, I can hear it. The thumps are deafening, and I feel like I could either fly or pass out. I fold my hands over my head and rock in place.

“Give it to me. What’s more?”

“Well, you probably saw the news about Jerry,” he begins.

I nod intensely.

“You can’t own a percentage of another team if you’re going to coach. It’s a bad look,” he says.

“So that’s fucking why—” I don’t even finish before I leap at him again, throwing my arms around him and shaking him before hurdling my way back over the fence and rushing out to Reed. I nearly tackle my father-in-law, but he snags my arm and keeps us both upright while I get my mouth to form words.

“Arizona! Jerry’s the new head coach. Three years with an option for five. A hundred and sixty mil. Dad! I did it!”

Reed wraps his arms around me and grips the back of my shirt, and the tears hit both of us in an instant. I called him Dad—because he is. And Jeff is like my dad, too. And my real dad would want them to step into that role. Especially now, when I’ve hit the pinnacle of so much hard work. When playing by the rules paid off. When I waited for the right thing to come along, Bryce delivered.

“I’m so proud of you, son. So unbelievably proud.” Reed relaxes his arms and steps back from our embrace, pinching the bridge of his nose to mask his tears. He turns to face the guys, most of them still kneeling.

“Practice is cancelled today. My son-in-law is going back to the NFL. Here! For us!”

The spring squad roars, and I’m not sure whether they’re cheering for me or because they somehow got out of a major ass-chewing and get to go home. I don’t care why they cheer. I wouldn’t care if they booed, I’m running on such a high right now.

“I gotta tell Peyt,” I say, spinning in circles while I flail around my body for my phone.

I pull it from my pocket as Bryce walks up and gives Reed a hug. I let the two of them talk as I wander down the field toward the other end zone. She was looking forward to this nap, but thisnews might fall under the category of “really good reasons to wake Peyton up.”

She answers on the third ring.

“Is something wrong?” Her voice is sleepy, and I want to contain myself and not blast her with energy through the phone. But I’m about to burst.

“Peyt, Bryce did it. He’s here. We just talked. He did it. I’m playing for Arizona.”

She gasps, and a sniffle follows a few seconds later.

“Baby . . . you did it,” she says, her voice soft so she doesn’t wake our son.

“We did it. You. Me. Warner. And football . . . forever.”

Chapter Thirty

Final Game of Regular Season with Arizona

“You know I like the black jerseys best.” I tug the fabric at the center of Wyatt’s chest, the bold, red number eighteen puckering as I pull him toward me.

“So . . . my black jersey is your red dress? Is that what you’re saying?” He tips my chin upward and kisses my lips, ignoring the cameras to our right that capture every moment. Wyatt just finished doing pre-game media. We’re heading to the playoffs as a wildcard. It’s a big deal for his and Jerry’s first year. The attention has beenextra.

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