Page 82 of I Got You

I smile at Shane.

“What?”

“I don’t care how bad of a day it is; you’re not getting out of this one.”

He rolls his eyes. “The rule still applies. One dance.”

“Just remember, the more you dance, the less you have to talk, and I happen to be a very good dancer, so you might just want to stick with me.”

He glares, but I can see that he likes my logic. I hope he likes the idea of being stuck with me, too. Being close to Shane just might help me survive another flesh-eating gown.

I hear a shuffle in the hallway and turn to find a tall, broad, disgruntled-looking young guy standing beside me. He could be attractive if he didn’t look like someone screwed him three times over. I haven’t seen him with his helmet off, but I can assume he’s number 38 and the pain in Shane’s completely muscled behind.

“Hey, Chip,” I say, and Shane tries not to spit his water. He’s kind of successful.

“It’s Nick.”

Ohhhhh, the attitude is thick.

“Huh? The chip on your shoulder says otherwise. Coach wasn’t quite sure how to get through to you that your behavior sucks. I suggested that you might need to understand if you want to play in the big leagues, you need an attitude adjustment. Or, you know, just piss away your talent and opportunities because you can’t get your head out of your ass.” I shrug.

The little punk laughs. “Yeah. I bet you and your brother know a whole lot about opportunities. Must be nice to have everything handed to you.”

I hear Shane shift and maybe a slight growl.

I shoot him a look. “Listen, think whatever you want about Cole and me and every other overprivileged SOB out there, but this guy, as big of a pain in the ass as he may be, has worked tooth and nail for every single thing he has. He earned it, and I can tell you it wasn’t with a big mouth and sour grapes attitude. So if you’re smart, you’ll listen, do exactly what he says, and cut the Polly Pissy Pants crap off. He’s trying to help your sorry butt.”

I look at Shane and then back to Nick. “Otherwise, just kiss away your future opportunities. No sweat off his back. Reality is there are a million others out there just like you, only some of them will make it because they’d rather focus on playing hard than talking shit and throwing fists. Your choice.”

Shane’s mouth curves upward into what might be a…Is he smiling? Smirking maybe? I’m…not…sure.

“Alright. I have class. I’ll see you later,” I say to Shane as I lift my bag. “Oh, and Chip, if you find your head somewhere down there in the Netherlands….” I gesture to his behind. “We’re having Thanksgiving next week since you’re playing during the real deal. You should come. It’s chaos, but then you can meet the rest of us overprivileged opportunistic Matthews. We’d love to have you. Catch a ride with Cole, but that unattractive piss-poor attitude stays at home.”

I leave, but not without peeking at Shane over my shoulder through the window of his office, and I think I might just see a real, genuine smile. It’s like sighting a rare and endangered species in the wild, and I just made that happen. I pump my fist three times in the air. Score!

Chapter 30

SHANE

I have a lot to decipher about what’s happened in this rabbit hole over the last twenty minutes, but right now, I’m trying to get over watching Maggie give this kid a straight-up talking-to. She said exactly what needed to be said in the most unattached way. By the look on Nick’s face, he doesn’t know what to make of it either. Why is her handling these kids so damn sexy?

She’s like this cool, smooth force that starts as a spark, and then you watch as she comes to life and turns into a full-on blaze. Every day, I’m finding it harder and harder to keep my distance from my own wife. I’m beginning to want to close the divide and find out what it feels like to kiss her until she’s limp in my arms. To feel her body underneath my hands and understand her in all ways that only a husband would.

“She’s your wife?” Nick's annoyed voice tears me from my thoughts.

“Yep. I’m damn lucky.” I meet his dull eyes.

“I bet it’s interesting living with her.”

“You have no idea. Everything she said is right, and whether you want to believe it or not, she knows a hell of a lot about football. Kid, you’ve got a real chance, but not the way you’re playing.”

He rubs his jaw, slumping against the wall.

“If you’re ready to kiss the field goodbye, then you’re doing a perfect job of getting there, but if you want to see what’s out there beyond this campus, then you’ve got to quit the pity party, close your mouth, and think of this as a business because that is exactly what it is. The question is, what brand are you selling? Right now, it’s nothing anyone will ever want to buy. No matter how good you are and how good you might actually be, you’re too expensive. Too risky. No one wants a loose cannon.”

He rolls his eyes and lets out a breath. “I get tired of having to work for every single thing while these guys get handed cars, sweet deals, sponsorships. I have to fight for everything.”

“You think I haven’t been there. I haven’t had one thing handed to me my entire life. Even this job, I worked for it. Not in a capacity as a coach, but I did my time on the field year after year, and when I wasn’t playing, I was training. Then, I was in offices working with my team and management. I would’ve gotten nowhere if I held every hard and bad thing I’ve been through against them.”

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