Page 17 of Playing for Keeps

Tate

“What the fuck was that all about?” Sean says when I return to the table. I don’t bother sitting down again because I’m done with eating. My gut is too riled up and I’m angry that I let that woman—Chloe fucking Smith—get to me.

“She set up a studio interview with me at NESH. Saturday. Mandatory, according to Coach.”

Sean shrugs. “No big deal. What’s the scowl for? You’ve done a million interviews by now.” He’s right and I don’t even know what to say to him, how to explain that I feel like she’s out to get me, to somehow exposé me, except I haven’t done anything worthy of being exposed.

“I’m not worried. I’m fucking annoyed.” I look around to see Hunter and Gabe heading our way as we make for the exit. None of us will be getting any playing time this week, so our practice will be light, more like a tutorial for some of the rookies and walk-ons, many of whom will no longer be on the team in three weeks.

Hunter says, “What’s up with that reporter chick?”

“I don’t know. She’s crazy.” I swipe my hand through my hair. “Let’s get out of here.” What I really mean is that I don’t want to talk about it.

We walk through the exit into the tunnel to the stadium and Gabe says. “You ever notice how many hot babes they have in sports broadcasting these days?” He’s talking to no one in particular, but Sean picks up on it, of course.

“Every last one of them is hot, but I’d really love to hook up with Chloe Smith.”

“No hooking up with sports reporters,” I say, sounding like a schoolmaster or someone’s matron aunt.

They all laugh at me. “Don’t worry,” Hunter says. “She’s not interested in Sean. She has her eye on you, Fontanna.” Even Sean nods in agreement.

“Too bad for her,” I say. No sense in disagreeing with them since it’s as plain as day, except I know her interest isn’t in hooking up. We reach the field and join our respective units. I’m with the linebackers and I join them, quickly getting my head into football. It’s easy because I love it. The game makes all the bullshit worthwhile.

* * *

Later that afternoon,practice starts to break up and I head for the sidelines for a drink, taking my helmet off because we’re finally done for the day. My back is happy not to do one more search and destroy drill, let alone a run and rush drill. I can’t afford to look like an old lady out here. Working hard at practice is important to Coach and therefore important to contract negotiations. Hunter and Gabe join me at the Gatorade bucket and we all drink, sweat pouring from our faces.

The water boys and girls come over and I let them squirt water at me, ducking to let the stream hit my head instead of my mouth. Sean Patrick trots off the field, helmet in hand, and even he looks drenched and dirty. He grunts and takes the bottle of water from one of the girls with a friendly smile. An innocent smile for him. The girl darts off anyway.

Shaking my head I slap him on the back. “Even the water girl knows your reputation.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Fontanna. You’re no better.”

Gabe laughs and I don’t bother arguing because they’re right. Lately I’ve had nothing but a string of single dates. Not the same as one-night stands, but it feels close enough when I can’t remember the women’s names a week later, when it’s onto the next one.

“The difference between me and you is that I’m trying to find someone. You’re happy to never repeat a night with the same girl. I want to find someone special enough to spend more time with.”

“It’s tough. Especially when you’re looking for it,” Hunter says. I’m about to agree when Cat, Hunter’s new bride and the team’s PR assistant director comes over. She’s wearing a blissful smile and a lady-like sundress, looking like the life really is a bowl of cherries.

“Hi guys. Practice over or you going back out there for more punishment?”

“Not tonight, Hunter says, attempting to take her in a hug. But she squirms away, laughing.

“No touching until you’ve showered, honey. You’re not that irresistible.” She looks around at us watching the exchange and I know I look amused and maybe wistful. Because I am.

“You all suddenly got quiet—don’t let me interrupt. What’s so tough when you’re looking for it?” Damn.

“You caught that, did you?” Hunter says. “We were just talking about women and Tate’s love life.”

“Or lack thereof,” Sean puts in.

“It’s true, I say. Can’t seem to find someone I click with. Haven’t had a second date in months.”

“Since you dated my fiancée,” Gabe says, his devilish grin belying his very real territorial jealousy.

“You’re the one who fixed me up with Mia—“

“Let’s not argue about that debacle again,” Cat says. “Clearly Gabe is a total fail at matchmaking.”