Luca’s stubborn, but he’s no match for me. So I know he won’t be able to resist making amends and begging for my forgiveness before too long. In fact, I give him a week at the most. Two at the outside. And when he finally relents and grovels, I’ll then coax him into confessing he loves me, sinceI refuse to say it first. And everything will go back to normal. In fact, considering how nebulous my job has become again, I bet I’d even be able to convince Coach Martinez to let me go back to personally coaching Luca to get that man onto the active roster. Not because of Bellamy’s job offer this time, but because I genuinely believe that’s where Luca Maguire deserves to be, if only he can get out of his own fucking way.
CHAPTER 34
Luca
ISTEP ONTOthe field for the first all-team practice since our starters returned from getting slaughtered in Miami. It was a bloodbath, so it’s no wonder everyone’s morale is in the toilet. We all thought we’d make a much better showing at our opening game of the season. As a team, we all had high hopes that this time would be different for the Mastodons. But instead, we’re once again the laughingstock of the league. The butt of the joke. And now, walking onto the field feels like attending our own funeral.
Okay, maybe not forallof us. I’m sure all the practice guys are secretly feeling as buoyed as I am about the starters wetting the bed on Sunday. True, we’re all Mastodons, technically, and, true, it’s literally our job as practice players to get the starters ready for each and every game to the best of our abilities. But the duality of being a player in my shoes is you’re always simultaneously hoping for the team’s overall success while also praying for the abysmal failure of the specific guy keeping your name off the active roster.
In my case, sadly, Moriarty was the only bright spot of the game on Sunday. It was everything that happened around our superstar—fumbles and fuckups by the offense and special teams players—that led to our demise. But even so, I’ve got aspring in my step as I walk onto the practice field because today, thanks to my cousin Marco, I’ve got some game-changing news for Chelsea.
When I spot my mathlete, she’s chatting with the defensive coordinator by the Gatorade cooler, so I bide my time till she’s free while pretending to tighten up my cleats. When she’s finally alone, I stride over to her and come to a stop, casting a shadow over her gorgeous face as my noggin blocks the early-morning sun behind me.
“I realize you’re still not speaking to me,” I begin with a smile. “But hear me out. I totally get why you’re not willing to go to the Thunderbolts now. In retrospect, it was a nonstarter of an idea. But guess what? I’ve lined up an even better opportunity for you—an actual job interview with the Knights, courtesy of my cousin Marco!”
I pause to glory in Chelsea’s smile. Or better yet, for her to drop her vow of silence and thank me profusely. The Knights are the odds-on favorite to win the Super Bowl this season, so even the most entry-level position in their organization would be a godsend for someone with Chelsea’s skill set and career goals.
To my surprise, she doesn’t react in any visible way. In fact, she looks like she’s been carved from granite.
“Isn’t that great news?” I say, filling the thick silence. “I’ll text you the guy’s information. He’s waiting for an email from you, so you should jump on this right away.”
I wait for a change in Chelsea’s icy glare and frozen body language. But she gives me nothing.
“Come on, Chelsea. You have to admit this is incredible news.”
Still nothing.
I shift my weight. “Look, I know you want me to kneel and grovel, but I can’t do that yet because nothing’s changed on my end. I’m still on the practice squad and a complete waste ofyour time, and you’re still here and unwilling to fly the coop because of me.” When she gives me nothing still, I shift my weight to my other foot. “Yes, of course, I’ll eventually do what you want. But onlyifyou contact Marco’s guy at the Knights first. Show me you’re not going to stay here in Loserville on my account, and I promise I’ll do whatever you want.” I cross my heart. “You’ve got my solemn vow on that.” I look around to make sure nobody’s come close enough to overhear our conversation, and when the coast is clear, I add in a whisper, “Think about it, Chelsea. Once you’re working for the Knights, and I’m still here, we can finally be together. For real this time.Out in the open.” I look around again and continue excitedly, “Obviously, I’d have to get onto the roster first for that to happen. You know, to make myself worthy of you. You’re football royalty, so I’d never let you lower yourself to be with a scrub. But once you’re working for the Knights, I’d have even more motivation to make that active roster happen for me.”
Chelsea continues silently staring at me. But this time, her eyes manage to call me a blazing idiot without her face moving a muscle.
“Why aren’t you at least nodding?” I ask. “This is the best news in the world, Chelsea. It’s the answer to all our problems.”
She blinks slowly.
“Oh, I get it. You’re thinking, ‘Hey, dumbshit, how am I supposed to tell you I’ve contacted Marco’s guy when I can’t talk to you till you’ve groveled on your knees?’ Ha! That’s an excellent point. Hmm.” I tap my chin while pondering. “Okay, how about this. After you’ve contacted the guy, find me and poke me right here three times to let me know you’ve held up your end of the bargain.” I poke my fingertip between my pecs. “Just give me a lil pokey-pokethrice, like this, and that’ll be our secret code that you’ve done the thing, which will then give me the green light to do the thing on my end—and then,boomshakalakaeverything will go right back to normal. Better than ever, actually.” I can’t contain my wide, beaming smile. “Okay?”
Still nothing.
For a moment, I’m stumped. Why won’t she at least nod in the face of this awesomeness? Does she not have faith in me getting where I need to go on my own after she ditches the Mastodons? Is that it? I wouldn’t blame her for thinking that way, because she has no way of knowing how hard I’ve been working lately.
“I’ve got this, Chelsea. I promise I’m a new man.” I count off on my fingers. “I’ve got my first session with the team psychologist tomorrow, and I’ve already scheduled weekly appointments with her for the next six weeks. I’ve also started taking detailed notes in every film review sesh, and at night at my shitty new apartment—wait till you see this place, it’s a shitbox—I study my notes and rewatch whatever clips were shown that day. I even watched film on the plane ride to and from my brother’s opening game in LA!” She looks unimpressed, so I add, “Now see, the old me would have slept or watched movies the whole flight, but the new me wouldn’t dream of wasting valuable time like that.”
I pause for praise of some sort, even if it’s only nonverbal, but Chelsea’s still impassive.
“You’ll be pleased to know I also got in three killer workouts with Roman’s personal trainer while I was out in LA.” I snicker. “Roman’s guy wasn’t nearly as good at motivating me as you. Not nearly as good-lookin’ either. But his workouts were fantastic, so I’m planning to incorporate his best stuff going forward and combine it with all the great stuff you’ve taught me.”
Well, damn. I thought that flirtatious bit about her being good-looking would make her give me at least a little something-something. An eye roll, at least. But nope, Chelsea the Bot’sveins have been filled with ice, apparently, every bit as much as Roman’s when he’s stepping into the pocket during a high-pressure game.
Holy shit.
The thought makes me realize something massive.
Chelsea is Roman in female form.How did I not realize that before now? She’s the most competitive, focused, disciplined, and, yes, stubborn human I’ve ever met, besides Roman. No wonder I love the girl so much! She’s got all the best qualities of my all-time favorite person, plus a whole bunch of other ones, too, in addition to her being physically hot as hell and sexually addicting.
I run a hand down my face, suddenly realizing the futility of this entire conversation. If Chelsea is like Roman, and I’m suddenly positive she is, then she’ll need at least another week to come around and meet me in the middle here.
I exhale. “Okay, well, that’s everything I wanted to tell you. Do with it what you will.” I shrug, like I don’t give a shit what she does, which couldn’t be further from the truth. “Like you always say, I can lead a horse to water, but I can’t make her drink. Especially when that horse is the insanely stubborn Chelsea Parker.”
