Page 17 of Falling for the Quarterback
Me:Not to sound overly excited, but I’m ready for that next date.
I should probably break this news article to him, not that I want to. We should discuss it, though, in case he sees it and it upsets him as much as it has me. There’s also the other thing I need to talk with him about that I’ve been dreading, but if things keep progressing, which I think they will, I’ll have to be a responsible adult and divulge my worst secret.
“Ugh,” I groan, pressing the heels of my hands into my closed eyes as the stress of it all hits me. This is the problem with relationships, especially new ones that I’ve been happily not dealing with. To have to start fresh with someone is both exciting and daunting. What am I going to do? What am I going to say?
Dots pop up on the cell screen, telling me he’s typing.
Chapter Eight
JJ
“Blueforty-two,left!”Iyell the words, calling our next play. My feet carry me back a few steps, my head tipping, looking left to right to take in the expanse of the field as I search for my runner. He’s swarmed, so the play I called is essentially dead.
My eyes find Maverick Hopkins, forty-four, somehow gloriously wide open, and I launch the ball in the air. It sails in his direction, and he’s already running, arms out, having connected with my eyes a brief moment before I set the ball free. I’m mauled to the ground by the opposing team’s defensive lineman, and then my body’s scrambling to get up enough to see how the play finishes out.
Cheers go up all around me as Antonio Rodriguez, who tackled me, glares my way, then stomps off toward the line. I immediately start running after one of my teammates helps me to my feet, and we line up one final time. I glance at our head coach and wait for his signal, as I always do during games. In the next beat, we’re running off the field so the field goal team can come out. That touchdown was pure money, and we’re close enough that our kicker will make the extra points, no problem, and no more stress on my back.
We’re all on the sidelines, watching as our kicker waits, allowing the clock to run down until two seconds remain on the time clock, before he takes off in his typical brisk pace. His foot connects with the football, launching it thirty-three yards, and right between the yellow goal posts, and then we’re all cheering. He did exactly what he was supposed to do. We may not have won this game, but wecame close. We were only three points down, and it’s still the preseason. Coach didn’t want me playing in the game at all tonight, but there was no way I was going to sit out the last preseason game before our season starter next week. I needed our fans to know that I’m still here, in great shape, and ready to put some points on the board for Texas.
Dawson comes up on my side, hand slapping my back after we’ve said our goodbyes to the opposing team. We leave the field, waving to fans as we disappear into the tunnel leading to our locker room. I would’ve liked to leave the field with the win, but this was a close game, a good game, and that sometimes means more than a win. Any chance you can learn from another team and turn around to use that as fuel for the next, especially with it being the season opener, I’ll take it.
“Good job, QB. My bad not getting open on that last one, ol’ Petey was fast tonight.” He huffs, wiping his brow with a sweat towel. He has black smudged down his cheeks, and scruff from the late hour. I’m sure I look the same.
I nod, having noticed the same thing about Petey. The rookie on the other team went quickly in the draft this year, and now I see why, having played against him in real time. Most rookies have to earn their place off the bench when coming onto their respective team, which tells me Petey will only get better with time. He was already keeping up with my go-to-guy, so he’ll be a force to be reckoned with in a year or two.
“Don’t forget you’ve got press with me after we shower.”
He shakes his head. “I told Parker to get me out of that. You know I can’t stand being put on the spot the way they do to us.”
“You seem to handle it okay when I’m throwing you the ball,” I retort with a grin.
He huffs, “Bro, it’s different.You know this.”
I nod, because I get it. Speaking to the press can be a drag, especially when you lose. Tonight, it’ll be even more so because I already know what they’ll ask me about, and I don’t want to talk about the kidnapping story that’s still being splashed around in the news and on the sports channel. Ask me how it felt to get tackled on the last play, and I’m good to talk about it. Anything not football-related, though? No dice.
“So who’s taking your spot, then?” I ask as we get inside our locker room.
The air conditioner hits a little differently since it’s had plenty of time to cool the room off. I’m a sweaty mess, so I tip my face up toward the vents blasting air, enjoying the chill as it hits my skin. Once I’m at my spot, I toss my helmet, jersey, pads, pants, socks, and cleats into the bottom cubby where they’ll be collected from and cleaned for me. Some guys have their superstitions and won’t let anyone touch their gear, but I’m not one of them. As far as I’m concerned, it’s one less thing for me to worry about, and I’m grateful.
“I’m still doing it,” he grumbles next to me, making me chuckle. “I told her to get me out of it, but of course she refused.” He adopts a high-pitched voice, acting like Parker, “Dawson, you’re just too good looking and charismatic. The camera loves you. Don’t forget you signed a contract,” he mimics, making our teammates around him laugh and nod in agreement.
“I tried getting out of it, too,” I admit. “She wasn’t having it.” My back is slapped by our teammate, Falcone, walking by.
“Good job tonight, QB.”
“Thanks, thirty-five,” I tip my head. “You did well out there on those blocks,” I compliment, always one to single out their strong points. They look up to me since I’m one of the captains, so it means a lot when they think I’m still pulling my weight around here.
“You going out with that chick?” Dawson butts in. He’s loud enough that it has everyone around us sitting up and taking notice.
I shoot him an irritated glance, not wanting our teammates all up in my business. The locker room may as well be a room filled with girls gossiping rather than professional athletes, with the way they like to stick their noses into everything and rib each other. The last thing I want is anyone catching wind of Kinsley and spooking her. I wouldn’t put it past my grumpy black cat to write me off without a backward glance. The woman is way too good for me, and I’m reaching above my station with her; I already know it.
With a shrug, I silently slide on my shower shoes. I grab my towel, soap, and shampoo, and then head for the closest shower. The humidity from the steam hits me as soon as I walk into the room, making me move a touch quicker to get into the cool water.
“I told her I want to go on another date,” I call out, once we’re away from half the team who’s taking their sweet time getting undressed. I stand under the powerful spray, letting the water change from blasting cold to hot on my skin. I’m still sweaty, but my muscles can use a good beating from some hot water on them at the moment.
He’s in the next shower over, so I can easily hear him let out a whistle. “She anything like the last two you dated?”
“No, the opposite. She’sreal.”
