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I huff out a laugh and then face Hayden. “I know I’m new, but trust me, I want a shot at the playoffs just as bad as the rest of you. I came close before, but we never could pull off the big win. We all need to focus on the team right now, okay? We have a lot of work cut out for us over the next several weeks, and I have a lot to prove, too, so perhaps my motives are partially selfish. However, if I find out you’re making Penelope’s life difficult in any way, I’ll make sure you pay for it. Are we clear?”
Hayden smirks. “Loud and clear.” And then he licks his lips. “Penelope, huh? You already on a first-name basis with the rep?”
I’m on a far more intimate basis with Penelope than just knowing her first name. Like knowing how she fucking tastes—everywhere.
My heart starts to hammer, but I hold my composure. “Yeah, I am. I went with Liam to meet her. And she’s damn good at her job, so don’t give her shit. Now let’s get back to training, shall we?”
Vince slaps my shoulder. “Sounds like a plan, QB.”
Right now, because it’s the off-season, players have the option to train on their own or come in to keep in shape, which is what the three of us are here for today. But after the draft in a few weeks, the team will be doing OTAs, or organized team activities, which consist of no-contact drills and mostly weight lifting in preparation for training camp. The players aren’t required to attend all of them, just those ten days when every player must be there, but it’s a great way for the team to bond in the off-season—and definitely something I’m taking advantage of given the trade.
So my plan for the next few months is to show up four hours a day, four days a week, and prove that I’m committed both to this team and to win while also making time to meet with Penelope.
She might think this thing between us is done, but my gut tells me it’s not. And I’m hell-bent on figuring out why.
“Alright, let’s get out on the field so Coach doesn’t get his panties in a wad,” Vince suggests as the three of us walk through the locker room, bypassing other players who are also preparing to head to the field.
“You’ve seen Coach’s panties, Vince?” Hayden shoves his shoulder. “Didn’t know you swing that way...”
“What if I did?” He glares over at him.
“Hey, I’m all about love is love. Just didn’t know you had the hots for the coach.”
I roll my eyes and then shove Hayden to the side. “Shut the fuck up, man, before Vince and I both knock you out.”
“Aw, my life has been threatened. Now I really feel like you’re a part of the team, Taylor.”
* * *
After a great introduction to some of the players and coaching staff I hadn’t met yet and a few chances to run some plays I’d been studying, I shower in the locker room and change, headed toward my meeting with Penelope.
Liam is running behind, so I’ll have a little bit of time to feel her out without his presence. We spoke on the phone last night, and he made sure I understood how important it is that we follow the guidelines set forth by the team.
Negative press is the last thing they want surrounding my trade, but it’s already blowing up all over the internet, insinuating I’m mad about the move when I’m not. I mean, no player likes when they have to switch teams, especially when their team’s winning streak is strong and they’ve been there for years, but it’s part of the job. Although being farther away from my cousin and her family is the biggest sore spot for me.
Paparazzi were camped outside the practice facilities today as the players were leaving, snapping pictures and calling out questions as they did. I kept my head down and headed to my truck like I’ve done many times before, knowing that even one wrong look can be misconstrued. The last thing I want to do is feed the gossip, especially when I have my own personal issues with the media.
The biggest obstacle I face is the pictures of me leaving parties and events with women. I’m not going to apologize because I like to socialize and relax when my job is physically and mentally grueling, but the context of those pictures definitely doesn’t paint me in a good light.
During the season, I limit my alcohol intake tremendously, so it’s not like I’m out to get drunk. But on New Year’s Eve, as I was leaving a party, paparazzi snapped a shot of me as I helped three girls out to their ride to leave.
To any outsider, it looked like I was about to get down with three women at the same time. But that wasn’t it at all. I was making sure they got home safely because I know how quickly a night can turn when alcohol is involved.
But that’s a story for another time.
Hopefully, I won’t be put in a position where I have to explain this to Penelope, especially given our history. I don’t want her to think she’s one of a dozen girls I’ve taken home, because she’s not. She’s theonlyone, and I know that detail is only going to create more of a problem the more time we spend together.
My phone rings through my truck’s Bluetooth as I drive to Penelope’s office, my cousin’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hey, Leslie,” I answer and instantly hear chatter in the background.
“Hold on. Sorry.” She exhales roughly before I hear a door shut. “There. Now I can hear you better. The office is chaotic today.”
“That’s good, though, right?”
“Yes. We’re doing a registration fair, so Tabitha and Brett are running around like crazy, and the place is packed. The program is only growing, Maddox. You should be proud.”
After I was signed to the NFL, one of my goals was to give back to the town where I grew up, so I started a football camp for kids and make sure I appear each summer before my own NFL training camp starts. My cousin, Leslie, handles all of the logistics for me, and now the foundation we’ve established also gives out thousands of dollars in scholarships each year to high school seniors as well.
