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But I get where the other players are coming from. The new guy comes in with high expectations, and suddenly they have to learn how to work with a different leader at the helm. Not to mention that everyone’s in a sour mood after a shitty season. Brock Miller, the former QB, was a stand-up guy, too, so it definitely makes things a little awkward. It’s not like I’m replacing someone that nobody liked.
I’ve only been with New Orleans since I was drafted to the NFL, so this experience is new to me, too. I’ve never had to acclimate to a brand-new set of players and command respect while simultaneously earning it. New Orleans made it to the playoffs every year I’ve been on the field as well, so it’s different knowing this team has been disappointed in that respect. Add in this whole Penelope conundrum, and my head isn’t exactly screwed on correctly at the moment.
At least it’s the off-season—I have time to get mentally prepared for the entire season later.
I pull an earbud from my right ear so I can hear Hayden better. “Definitely. It’ll be nice to see how everyone gels.”
“We’ve got a solid offense, Taylor. I think you’ll be impressed. We just need someone to run it confidently on the field.”
“I’m gonna try my best.” Hayden’s brow furrows as he leans toward me, searching for something. “What?”
His eyes move around the room. “What is that noise?”
“What noise?”
He looks down at my earbud and then rips it from my hands, placing it in his own ear and grinning like a fool once he hears my song.
Oh boy, here we go.
“What the fuck are you listening to?”
“Only the best music from the best decade,” I reply confidently.
He starts to slide his feet back and forth, side to side, while holding his hands out to me like he’s performing a serenade. “Goddamn, I forgot how good this song is!”
Vince, our center, comes by at this very moment. “I’m afraid to even ask what the fuck is happening right now...”
“Taylor gets down to Cindy Lauper songs while he’s lifting weights.” Hayden beams as he dances.
“Shut the fuck up,” Vince replies. “Are you serious?”
“Yup! ‘Time After Time,’ to be exact.” Hayden continues to belt out the lyrics as Vince eyes me with a raised eyebrow.
“Mostly just eighties tunes in general.” I shrug.
Vince nods in understanding. “I can respect that. And hey, we all have our quirks, right?” He tosses his thumb over at Hayden. “This moron listens to a romance reader podcast on flights to away games.”
Hayden immediately stops dancing and points at him. “Don’t knock it, alright? I’ve learned a lot about women by listening to that podcast.”
“Apparently not enough since you’re still single,” Vince teases.
I stand back with my arms folded, watching the dynamic between these two. Shit-talking of any degree between men, especially in professional sports, is a pastime that should be revered. Men giving each other a hard time is a way we bond, one that will ultimately help me win over my new teammates if I learn to get in on the action sooner rather than later.
“Not ready to settle down just yet, my man,” Hayden preens. “Too many women willing and ready, am I right, Maddox?”
“Sure, Hayden,” I say, turning back to my locker to make sure I locked it.
“Well, I heard the PR rep the team just hired is a Cindy Crawford look-alike, so maybe I’ll test out my female expertise on her.”
I clench my fists at the mention of Penelope. I know the team’s been talking about what’s going to happen over the next few months, how we all need to buy in to build the image they want to portray to the fans. But it just hit me that soon Penelope will be exposed to all of them, and lord only knows the vulgar insinuations that will come out of their mouths once they see her. Because Hayden’s right—Penelopedoeslook like she could be Cindy Crawford’s doppelgänger.
Though honestly, I think she just stands out all on her own.
“I personally can’t wait to see you crash and burn in your pickup attempts,” Vince chimes in, “but you need to remember how much you’re being paid to throw around a football and dedicate your energy to that, Palomar.” Hayden’s only been active for a year, so he’s still green in terms of knowing the shit, both good and bad, that can come with this job. “Fucking remember how many men would kill to be in your shoes, and don’t make an ass of yourself because you’re too preoccupied with getting your dick wet.”
He hands me my earbud as he looks at Vince. “Message heard loud and clear, Sargent. Thanks for making me feel like an ass.”
Vince gets in one final dig. “Well, you look and smell like one, too.”
