He laughs. “All these dudes complaining in the locker room about how hard D1 football is? I want to tell them it’s nothing compared to being a father.”
“I got shit on this morning by a ten-pound angel, so I couldn’t even be mad, but I feel you. You’re handling it well, but if you ever need anything, you and your daughter are always welcome at our place.”
“Thanks, man. Appreciate that.”
We spend an hour working on different formations and handoffs. A few different trick plays. It’s fun as hell. I forgot how awesome football can be when you don’t hate your teammate.
Roxy’s right. I have to get back to what made me love the game. It changes everything.
Sure as shit doesn’t hurt that Ezra has no clue I’m helping the quarterback who’s gunning for his starting position.
While we’ve won our first two games, Ezra’s struggled throughout. Solid defense and the strength of the rest of the team nabbed those wins. Certainly not the interceptions he’s thrown.
To look at him, you wouldn’t guess he’s the guy who took us to the championship game last year.
I almost feel bad for him until I remember how he treated Roxy like crap and hasn’t bothered to ask about Marley, and then I’m over it.
In the locker room, I see him rubbing his shoulder a lot. I’m guessing he’s not a hundred percent. Serves him right for being such a prick. At the same time, I don’t want the team to suffer.
Roxy has been worried about Deacon getting his chance at a national championship, and with Nick wanting to graduate in the spring, her concern isn’t unfounded.
We break a half hour before the team meets, but Coach waves me aside. “What do you think of Silva?”
“He has a strong arm, and he and Deke gel well. Their timing is spot on.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” He tugs at the neckline of his shirt. “Billy, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”
Oh, shit. Now what? I brace myself for something terrible.
“Well,” he says, squinting into the sun, “I just want to let you know how much I appreciate you looking after Roxy and my grandbaby. You’re doing a commendable job with everything. And… I’m sorry for being so hard on you last spring. Sometimes when you have kids, you lose perspective. But I want you to know I think you’ve been a stand-up young man.”
My eyes sting. Then my nose. My throat closes up. What the hell is going on right now? I nod and blink. Then nod some more. “Thank you, sir. I love my girls.”
“Good.” He faces me. “Then maybe you can tell me who Marley’s father is.”
I freeze. Wait. What? “No. Sorry. Can’t do it, Coach. I won’t betray Roxy’s confidence. She’s trying to protect you in her own way.”
“What does that mean?”
How do I say this without spilling the beans? “One, she doesn’t want you to flip out and do something you’d regret. Two, she knows how much this team means to you, and she doesn’t want to be responsible for saying something that could mess up the camaraderie you have with your players. And three, she wants the team to have the best chance to reach the playoffs for Deke.”
He watches me carefully. I feel like I just got my leg caught in a bear trap. “So what you’re saying is Marley’s biological father is one of my players.”
Motherfucker. Did he not know this already? I blow out a breath and put my hands on my head. “Coach, don’t ask this of me.”
He takes off his Bronco baseball cap and wipes his sweaty forehead. “My daughter is going to be the death of me. You’ll see some day. When Marley comes home and tells you she has herfirst boyfriend or she’s going on a date or to prom or whatever the hell kids are doing.”
“Any asshole who wants to date Marley will have to go through me.” I cross my arms. “Pretty sure Roxy and I are in agreement that there will be no dating until Marley’s twenty.”
Coach chuckles and pats my shoulder. “I like your attitude.”
Something no one has ever said to me.
Then he stalks off.
I dragmy ass in our apartment, drop my shit at the door, and collapse on the couch. “Rox.” She might not be able to hear me since I’m face-down in a cushion.
“Hey, you’re home early.”
