Warren frowned. “Where did you hear that?”
“Me,” DeMarcus said, moving over. “I heard it too. Mike said that your agent is already making demands for an extension.”
That better not be happening without him knowing, but he wouldn’t throw anyone under the bus.
“I’m more focused on this year,” he said.
“That’s what I say all the time too,” DeMarcus said. “But then Tiff tells me it’s not all about me.”
He laughed when his star wide receiver walked away.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s still pissed at the size of your contract. I think he’s fishing for information for his agent to negotiate or start looking. Making the playoffs will increase his value.”
“That’s not in my control right now,” he said.
He was trying to figure out how fast he could call his agent to find out what the fuck was going on.
“I’m glad you’re here with us this week,” Mike said, walking over. “The same as last week. I thought for sure you were going to spend your last week with Emma.”
“No,” he said. “She’s busy, and I understand my obligations,” he said.
“That’s right,” Mike said, slapping him on the back. “Got to get our money’s worth out of you.”
Warren bit back the growl. It wouldn’t look good if anyone saw him blowing up on the field. It was bound to make it into the news and he didn’t need that.
But damn, it was tiring having to watch everything that came out of his mouth and his actions at all times.
“Don’t worry about me,” Warren said. He picked up the tablet and looked at the plays and moved closer to Cody to goover things. Until he was released, he was going to be a coach and found he didn’t care for it all that much.
At the end of the day, he got in his car and hit the button to call his agent.
“Warren, how are you doing?” Kyle said. “I haven’t talked to you much lately.”
“I’m doing well,” he said. “Getting better each day. Mike told me you’re already in talks about an extension for me. What’s going on?”
“Mike called me the other day and said that they wanted to extend you. I figured I’d wait to hear from you. You know how it goes,” Kyle said. “Maybe you don’t have any part of it and it’s on them.”
He ground his teeth. “So he’s playing games?”
“It’s how it goes,” Kyle said. “I told him there was still another year to go after this. No reason to rush anything. Of course, he takes that as being hard to get.”
“Thanks,” he said. “You know my stance after next year.”
“I know,” Kyle said. “I hate that, but I understand. Even more now too. Seriously, how are you feeling about things?”
“What is to be expected,” he said.
He wasn’t going into detail with anyone and worry that it might get turned around on him. Kyle worked for him; he trusted him as much as he could trust anyone who wasn’t family.
“I’m sure it’s hard,” Kyle said. “I’ve had a few players question their careers at this point. You’ve had three head injuries in about a year. You know there is some talk about that.”
He knew. He’d tried to push those talks off.
He didn’t need anything else in his head.
“There always is,” he said. “Someone has to run their mouth.”
“Between that and you dating Emma and not needing to worry about anything with her family backing, people are spilling more tea in Boston than in 1773.”
