Page 116 of Iris

“Coach Gripe is interested in you signing on as a wide-receiver coach.”

Hud stared at him. “What?”

“Or you stay here and take on a mentoring role.”

“I’d still be playing?”

Coach Max nodded. “Maybe not as much, but...”

“I want to play out my contract. Both games.” He looked at Waylen.

“That can be arranged, right, Coach?” Waylen looked at Coach Clay.

Coach Clay nodded. “Suit up, Bly.”

The sun had hit the middle of the sky before he came out of the locker room. He ran a lap, stretched, warmed up with the team, and kept his eyes on the sidelines.

Jack’s warm-up throw nearly hit him in the head when Iris came out, dressed in her stripes, carrying her gear. She set her water bottle and bag on a bench, then started to stretch.

“Hudson! Go long!”

He glanced at Jack, who was dropping back, waving him toward the end zone.

Hudson took off, running hard, looked over his shoulder, and found the ball.

It sailed into his hands, a beautiful catch. He tucked it, then ran it in.

A few fans clapped. He turned and Felix was there. “Nice catch.”

“Laces.”

“Right.” Felix ran back to the line of scrimmage. “My turn!”

Hudson ran over to the sidelines, where the trainers were bringing out water coolers, filling bottles to drop them into their metal baskets. Others had medical gear out. He took off his helmet and grabbed some water, the hamburger turning to a rock in his gut.

He glanced at the officials. Iris wasn’t there, but he spotted Shae taking a shot of the team and walked over. She wore a jacket, jeans, and Uggs, her blonde hair back in a wool headband. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said, then stepped back and grabbed a snap. “It’s for social media.”

“Where’s Iris?”

“I’m over here.” He looked up. She had a foot up on a nearby bench, was lacing her shoe. “Don’t look at me.”

He faced away, at the field. “Now I feel like I’m talking to myself.”

Shae moved away, making it worse.

“Just stand there and listen.” Iris took a breath. “I was wrong. My life isn’t exactly how it’s supposed to be. Not without you in it. Because you’re…I don’t know. You’re kind and dependable and super hot and, fine, an international superhero, and I…I’m…”

“Crazy about me?”

A pause. “You’re making this hard.”

“Try holding on to you for six hours in a cave.”

“Such a whiner. I got you out of the clink, didn’t I?”

He glanced over his shoulder.

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