Page 17 of One and Only

Like me, he was a tight end. We clicked easily when he was traded from Ft. Lauderdale in season five, and it didn’t take long for Coach to see that we were a lethal combination with Christian in the pocket. He revamped our offense to a two-tight end lineup on offense, and once we racked nine wins under our belt because the defenses in our division couldn’t keep up, the walls of the team facilities could hardly hold the trembling anticipation as we headed into our sixth season.

Events like this one—friends and family gathering for some informal games and food—became integral to forming the strong foundation at Portland. I’d always taken Olive because it was a way to keep her involved at the place I spent so much of my time.

She didn’t like going to games—they were too loud with too many people—but this was something she could handle.

Not just handle, I thought with a rueful smile as she caught sight of Parker by the doors leading to the field.She loved it.

She froze, bouncing on her toes and pointing at my teammate.

I took her hand and squeezed it. “Give him a second, sweet pea.”

Olive looked up at me with a pleading expression. “Please,” she said.

I laughed under my breath. “I think he’s talking to someone. We don’t want to be rude, okay?”

She sighed heavily.

Parker was tall—taller than me by a couple of inches, and I couldn’t really see who was standing by him, but I found myself undeniably curious if it was his sister, and what she might be telling him about her previous night of activities.

Parker shifted, turning his head so I saw his profile. His hands were on his hips, and there was a surprisingly angry set to his jaw as I caught sight of Greer standing in front of him. She didn’t look much happier with her arms crossed over her chest.

When she set her hand on his arm, his frame relaxed, but he shook his head at whatever she was saying.

“Daddy.”

I glanced down, eyebrows high. It was about as forceful as my quiet, reserved daughter ever sounded.

“Okay,” I conceded. “Go ahead.”

She tugged off her sunglasses and handed them to me, tiptoeing lightly along the lines in the floor as she approached Greer and Parker.

Greer saw her first, her eyes narrowing, then her mouth falling open in recognition.

Her gaze snapped over to me, and she sucked in a quick breath.

For as polished and professional as she looked at the restaurant, this was a more casual version of the woman I’d met.

There were no five-inch heels today, but jeans with holes in the thighs and knees and crisp white-and-gold sneakers on her feet. Her hair was braided off her face, and around her neck was one of the Portland VIP badges that would grant someone access to just about any event the team held.

Parker noticed her attention shift behind him, and he turned. The stormy expression on his face cleared immediately when he saw Olive.

He held his hands out to my daughter, who ran straight up to him, laughing when he tossed her up into the air and caught her easily.

“Olly-pop, I haven’t seen you in way too long,” he said. “You keeping your dad in line?”

She smiled, tugging on the ends of his shaggy golden-brown hair.

“I know, I know, everyone keeps telling me I need a haircut.” He notched his chin up. “Shoulders?”

Olive nodded excitedly.

Parker swung her up with ease, and I smiled when she gripped his hair in both hands. He winced, tapping on her knuckles so she would loosen her grip. “You teach her how to do that, Coleman?”

“Worked on it on the way in.” I slapped him on the shoulder. “I’m hoping she helps you go bald before you turn forty.”

He scratched his nose with his middle finger.

When I laughed, Greer’s eyes were bouncing between me and her brother. She looked … confused? Relieved? I couldn’t tell.

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