Page 11 of Delay of Game
“You can’t play football forever.”
“I can play it for a couple more seasons. Maybe a Super Bowl ring is my passion,” I argued lamely. I wanted a Super Bowl ring, sure. Was it my passion? Probably not. But football had been my life since I was a kid. I couldn’t imagine a career outside of it, even as my body rebelled against my career.
“Maybe computer science? You love computers.”
“I enjoy playing on the computer.”
“Or medicine?”
“With my bedside manner?” I snorted. “Leave it, Mom. I’ve got another two seasons on this contract, and I doubt it’ll be renewed. Let me worry about it then.”
She pursed her lips, straightening in her seat before taking a small sip of tea. “I just worry about Mila…”
“I worry about Mila, too. Which is exactly why I’ll stay and make as much money as I can, as long as the team keeps me.” I raked my hand through my hair, aggravation prickling my skin. “How did we even get on this topic?”
“Gracie.” Mom’s eyes lit up and her lips morphed into a grin. “She’s cute, isn’t she? And single. I asked.”
I shook my head and collected my mug. “Thanks for tea. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
The locker room reeked of sweat and turf. The familiar odor distracted me from the pain shooting down my leg after an overambitious rookie tried to tackle me during a drill.
“You’re on my shit list, Fieste,” I said, glaring at the lanky redhead. “Prepare yourself for a world of hurt.”
His green eyes widened.
“It was an…accident…” he stammered. “Won’t…happen…again.”
I shook my head slowly. “It won’t, because I’m keeping my eyes on you.”
“He just got here. Give him a break,” Noa Kweame whispered under his breath.
“Did you see what he did?” I asked, hurt that my friend would take up for some dumbass rookie over me. “He tackled me, offsides, during a fucking drill. A drill. A who-gives-a-shit drill!”
“He’s competing for a spot.” Noa shook his head. “Have a heart.”
“I have a heart,” I said, raising my voice. “But not for dumb assholes who try to hurt their potential teammates.”
Fieste’s face matched his hair and Noa tutted, shaking his head. “You’re fine, Fieste. Don’t worry about Rob.”
“He better fucking worry about me,” I muttered, turning back to my locker and pulling a shirt on over my freshly showered damp skin. “Like I don't have enough to worry about without some moron fresh out of college trying to prove he's worth keeping around.”
Noa raised an eyebrow, pulling a sweater over his head. "Everything okay with Mila? Gloria?"
"They're fine. Mila's excited about kindergarten. Mom made friends with her teacher already."
"Already? I thought school hadn't even started yet."
I shrugged, sitting down on the bench to pull on my shoes. "The teacher does some 'welcome to kindergarten' bullshit. She comes by the house and reads to Mila and then takes her on a tour of the school with her new classmates."
"Sounds nice."
"Sure, if she just came and left again. Mom talked her into dinner and then dragged her out into the pottery studio. Apparently, she took a weekend course, and Mom thinks she's a natural."
"Your mom could use some more friends now that Mila won't be around all day."
"This woman is barely in her twenties."
His eyebrow raised, deep brown eyes glinting as he looked my way. "Oh, is that what's going on? Is your mom trying to hook you up?"
