Page 44 of Zone Protection

“Baby mama?” I belt out a laugh. “Never in a million years, darlin’.”

We both laugh and then settle into the quiet. After a few minutes, I feel her breathing steady, and I hear a soft little snore coming from her.

After a while, she turns away from me, but I curl around her, wanting to feel her body against mine. I kiss the back of her neck and wrap my arm around her waist and rest my hand on her lower belly under her shirt.

With a feeling of contentment, I fall into a deep sleep.

CHAPTER

NINE

ARCHIE

We’re playing Louisiana today,and they’re a good team, but we’re better. Callaway is in as the quarterback today, as expected. He’s on fire too.

The clock is winding down, and we’re all getting tired. In the huddle, Bo called a passing play to Beck, which means I need to execute zone protection—leaving space for him to get the ball down the field. Beck is one of the best running backs not only in our conference, but in college ball. So, I know if I give him the room he needs, he’ll take it all the way.

We take our positions, and I get myself positioned on the yard line. The defensive end across from me starts talking shit.

“Griff, you pussy. How’s your mom? Did she call my name when she was giving it to your dad last night?”

Does it make me mad? Hype me up? Nah. But it does make me laugh.

“Awww, you’re cute, Pickens. Listen, it don’t matter to me that your coaches put a JV lineup out here. I’ve been here all day, schooling your ass. I like this kind of party, baby.”

“Fuck you and your mother, Griff.”

“Ha-ha! He’s scared, boys. Come on now, Pickens. I want you right here.” I point in front of me.

Bo calls the play, and I jump from my position. I take ahold of Pickens’s shoulder pads and throw him to the ground.

Standing over him, I yell. “Get off the field!”

Then I look up and see Beckham reach the first down marker. We’re down to three minutes left on the clock. Bo calls a passing play, which will send it off to Casey. We line up, but this time, Pickens doesn’t say anything.

Instead of moving straight at him when Bo calls the snap, I shift to my left and back to protect him while he throws the ball off to Casey.

A lineman comes up on me before I can brace for the hit. He gets me right in the ribs, and even though I have my pads on, it still hurts like a motherfucker. It’ll definitely leave a bruise.

As I get up from the ground, our band starts playing our fight song to signal a touchdown. I look down the field and see Casey in the end zone.

We win the game by ten points.

After the game, I find my dad in the family waiting area. When I walk up to him, he folds me into his arms and slaps my back twice.

“Good game, son. How you feelin’?”

“Thanks. I’m good, just a little sore, but that’s pretty much the norm.” I laugh.

He chuckles. “You hungry?”

“You know it. Let’s go grab a steak. I need some red meat to help the swelling in my side go down.”

“Got it. Let’s go to the Stockyard. We don’t have one of those near home, and I like their potatahs.” He lets go of me but keeps his arm around my shoulders.

Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting at our table at the restaurant, both with a beer in front of us.

“So, tell me how you’ve been, how you’re feeling. We should meet with your agent soon. I think there were a couple of endorsement deals he wanted you to look at.”

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