Page 64 of Delay of Game
“I get stars on my jersey and a captain patch.” He shrugged. “Until this season, I didn’t have to actually do anything other than stand with Diego during the coin toss.”
“You know, I run into that a lot with my work, too. They lure people in with stars and fun stickers and then hit them with responsibility.”
“Are you talking about kindergarteners?”
“Teachers, too. It’s sort of an all-ages motivator.”
“I’m not a very motivating person,” he admitted.
“I think you’re pretty motivating. You’re the only reason I’m working through the to-do list on the house.”
“I’m doing most of the work.”
“Exactly,” I winked. “Good leaders know to pull their fair share.”
“So, what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Explain it all to me,” I told him, stopping the wheel and leaning onto my knees. “And we’ll see what we can come up with.”
Rob ran through the last weeks of practice: the new players, the weird vibes on the field, and the anger over the head coach’s new practice protocol.
“Wow,” I said, sitting back up, the pottery wheel well and truly abandoned.
“Yeah, fucking wow.”
“You really should have nominated a co-captain.” I picked up the remaining balls of clay and returned them to the table.
“Don’t I know it?” Rob hefted up the tray of mugs and set them on the shelf to dry. “But that doesn’t help me now. Unless you think I should appoint a new co-captain mid-season?”
I shook my head. “No. That’s probably not a good idea. Sounds like your head coach is riling up enough people. You shouldn’t add to the chaos.”
“Then what do I do?” He leaned heavily against the worktable, close enough so his arm brushed my shoulder.
I struggled to keep my focus on the conversation and not on the way his bare skin felt against mine.
“You focus on things that’ll bring everyone together. Fun things. Non-football things.”
“I don’t do non-football things.”
I laughed and spread my arms. “Seriously, Rob? You don’t do anything that isn’t football? You don’t own a pottery studio and a brewery?”
“Those are my personal hobbies.” He crossed his hands over his chest in a pout. A really adorable pout. The kind of pout that made me wish he hadn’t just thoroughly told me we couldn’t be together so I could slide in under his arm and rest my head on his shoulder, rub his tense shoulders and…
My cheeks burned as Rob licked his lips, eyes turning stormy. I shook off the idea. “You don’t have to invite them over to your house, but how about you do something as a team like that? Maybe axe throwing or darts?”
“Based on today’s practice, I’m not sure I’d trust us with sharp objects.”
“A painting class, then?”
He huffed.
“Dinner? Is that safe enough? Or too many knives?”
His mouth worked as he cleaned up his wheel and stalked across the room to the sink. “That’s not a bad idea. A neutral location, not a lot of time. Everyone needs to eat.”
“Maybe find a place that also does trivia? Everyone loves trivia.”
“I hate trivia.”
