Page 77 of Delay of Game
I blinked, pulling back slightly at the brusque comparison.
His laugh fell away. “I would have made a shitty teacher, anyway.”
“Wait, you went to college to be a teacher?” He nodded. The admission took me by surprise. “NFL players go to school to be teachers?”
“Some.”
“I’m a teacher. Kindergarten.”
His eyes popped. “Seriously? I didn’t know. Shit, I sounded like an asshole there, didn’t I?”
“You wouldn’t be the first to tell me I don’t get paid enough.” I laughed. “I’m just shocked. How did you manage student-teacher rotations on the football team?”
“Spring rotations and lots of missed sleep.” He ducked his head and lowered his voice. “I wasn’t a half bad teacher. I ended up substitute teaching for another semester because I loved it so much.”
“And yet you still put yourself in the draft,” I chided.
“Like I said, teachers don’t get paid. I figured I should get that paycheck if I could.” He shrugged. “Besides, most professional football players have a short shelf life. It’s nice to have a back-up plan I would actually enjoy after my football career is over.”
“But you are enjoying yourself, just a little, right?”
He stared out over the pool for a moment, sipping his beer to empty. “Yeah. Sometimes. If I ever get a shot on the field, I’d like it a lot more.”
Rob broke away from his teammate on the other side of the pool. His eyes met mine, lips drawing down in a frown before breaking his gaze to flag down Mila.
“You’ve got some strong competition standing in your way.”
“Don’t I know it.” Ethan shook his head and picked up the empty bottle beside him. “But I’m not worried about that right now. For now, how about I get you another drink?”
Ethan proved a surprising distraction. Fresh out of college at twenty-three, he had all the exuberance of a frat memberon Spring Break and the conversational skills of a seasoned newscaster. Three margaritas later, we were laughing loud enough to garner some attention. And more than a few hard stares from Rob.
“Another drink?” Ethan asked, palm upturned for my glass.
I shook my head. “I’m a lightweight, and I’m sure Rob wants to take off soon.”
Ethan swished his bottle of beer, lips drawing in as his eyes locked on mine. “Can I tell you something?”
I reclined back on my elbows, tilting my head toward the sun, and shrugged. “Sure.”
“And you won’t be mad?”
Laughter bubbled in my throat but died again when his face stayed serious. “Um, probably not. What’s going on?”
“I just…really like you.”
The words echoed Rob’s after he spent the night at my house. I sat up. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“And I wouldn’t want you to find out anything that’d make you think this,” he thrust his bottle back and forth between us, “wasn’t sincere.”
“I haven’t had any reason to think that so far.”
He ripped his eyes from mine, tracking Rob as he walked to the pool, lifting Mila out with one arm. “I sort of pissed Rob off during pre-season.”
“Seems like an easy enough thing to do.”
He nodded. “He’s been thawing since then. I took all the vets out to dinner, and he asked if I would…”
Ethan’s already pink skin turned bright red.
