Page 49 of Tight End

18

Brody

Being done with Isabella was surprisingly freeing.

It was only obvious to me now, with the clarity of hindsight. For the past two months, a dark cloud had been hanging over me. Being with Isabella affected the way I acted, the way I thought, and the way I performed on the field.

But now? Now I felt like myself again. And there was no better feeling in the world.

It was immediately obvious in the game, too. My mind was sharp and I executed each play with flawless precision. I snatched the ball out of the air like my hands were magnetic. I could do no wrong.

The touchdown play was especially satisfying. The safety guarding me tried to undercut the route and intercept the ball, but it was thrown too high for him. That misplay allowed me to land and dodge his tackle, then make a break upfield. A few jukes later, and a particularly beautiful spin move, and then there was nothing but open turf between me and the end zone.

Stepping across that line onto the blue-painted turf was sweeter than any wine. It felt comforting deep in my soul, like coming home after a long trip away.

The crowd noise washed over me, full of victory and praise and validation. A job performance review given not by a single supervisor, but by eighty thousand of them. I did a little celebration for the camera—a man had to have a little swagger at times like this—and then jogged back to the sideline.

I was so caught up in the game itself that I didn’t realize I was passing a few feet from the cheerleaders. Isabella was there, front and center, a healthy pout on her face. It was quickly replaced by a big, fake smile. The kind of smile she used to give me when she disagreed with what I was saying, and was waiting her turn to speak so she could tell me.

But then, next to her, I saw Taylor.

My chest tightened at the sight of her. All the cheerleaders were hot, but T-Foxy? She was on another level. The knee-high boots and skirt showed off her long, smooth legs. The long-sleeved top showed a lot of midriff, and Taylor’s chest was round and full and everything I could have ever asked for.

And when she tugged on her redheaded ponytail and smiled back at me? My cock practically screamed at me to take her into the locker room and do what I had been thinking of doing since we hit it off at trivia all those months ago.

She has a boyfriend, I thought, tearing my eyes away. A shitty one at that.

Suddenly, the touchdown didn’t feel so sweet anymore.

Dallas was waiting on the sideline. He gave me a very hard high-five and said, “That’s the Brody I fucking love! No homo.”

I grabbed his face and gave him a cartoonish kiss on the cheek. “How about a little homo? You know you like seeing this tight end sliding into the end zone.” I gave my ass a little wiggle.

Dallas roared with laughter. Stevie Cooper, the captain of the defense, came up behind me and gave me a hard smack on the ass.

“I know I do,” the dark-haired defender said. “The more you score, the easier our job is.”

“Speaking of that,” Dallas said, “get out there and do it.”

Stevie grinned, put his helmet on, and jogged out with the rest of the defense to stop the next Patriots drive.

Dallas put his arm around my neck. “Glad to see the old Brody Carter is back.”

“He never went anywhere, partner,” I replied. “He just needed a couple of games to come out of hibernation.”

The two of us grinned and laughed, just like we used to back in college. It was easy to be in high spirits when we were winning.

Stevie and the defense did their job on the next drive, and the one after that. When all was said and done, the Patriots only scored one more time all game, and we cruised to an easy 33 - 10 victory.

“Nine catches, a hundred and four yards,” Kincaid said in the locker room. “You keep putting up those numbers, and you won’t need me out there.”

“You’re the reason Brody was open so much,” Dallas said. “The defense was double-teaming you, which opened up the mid-field.”

“Hey now, don’t go downplaying my performance,” I replied. “You got to treat me like my husky dog Luna: I need some appreciation.”

“I’ll buy some gold star stickers from the dollar store,” Dallas promised.

Because I had a big game, I was picked to be one of the players to talk to the media after the game. I answered their questions and made a few jokes. Like everything else about this job, it was easy when we were winning. Success had a way of removing most of the pressure in every aspect of being a football player.

---