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“You didn’t have to bother for my sake.”
“Oh, shush!” Mom pats me over the shoulder and pushes me toward the table. Only when I’m in my seat does she go back to the stove. She grabs the pan with scrambled eggs, putting it on the table along with the bacon. “We all have to eat something.”
“And everybody knows Margie is the best cook in a hundred-mile radius, ain’t that right?” I turn to Dylan to find him watching me with his dark eyes, his mouth curved upward. “Well, I’ll be damned, Miguel Fernandez decided to come back home and visit his family? I thought you were too good for us regular folk now that you’re an NFL superstar.”
I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his compliment. “I’m hardly a superstar.”
“Oh please,” he slaps me over my injured shoulder, and I have to hold back a wince. “You helped your team go all the way to the playoffs last season. I’m pretty sure everybody in this town thinks you’re a superstar.”
The chair screeches loudly against the floor as my dad takes a seat at the head of the table, doing his best to avoid looking at me. Did I expect something different? Maybe he’d throw me out. Then again, if Mom insisted on me coming here, there wasno way he’d do that. So I guess we were playing the ignoring game, which was more than fine by me.
I shift my attention back to the man next to me. “Well, the team is pretty amazing, and I’m excited to get back on the field.”
“How’s that shoulder of yours doing?”
I roll it instinctively, feeling that twinge in the joint. “Not too bad. I’m still doing my PT, and I hope I’ll be back to one hundred percent by the start of summer camp.”
“That’s amazing to hear. We’re all loo—”
“Will you stop chit-chatting and get to your breakfast?” Dad asks as he stabs his fork into a piece of bacon, his eyes narrowing on me. “Some of us have real work to do.”
My whole body stiffens at Dad’s harsh words.
Of course he’d think that. It was one of our main fights, even when I was playing in high school. For him, football was just a game, and he didn’t think it was worth all the attention I gave it.
I guess some things never change.
“See what I told you? A freaking grumpy asshole.” Dylan shakes his head, not in the least bit worried about the hard glare pointed his way. “He’s been insufferable the last few days. You’d have thought he’d be happy to have his son back home.”
Dad’s eyes meet mine for a split second before he pushes back from the table. “I’m done. I’ll see you out in the fields.”
A heavy silence falls over the room saying more than any words could.
I watch my father’s retreating back as he marches out of the house and toward the barn. Aaron meets him halfway, a little boy by his side. Aaron’s son. I haven’t seen my nephew since he was just a baby. I watch as dad leans down and ruffle’s the boy’s hair, before the three of them make their way to the barn together. I can feel a jab in the middle of my chest—jealousy.
A hand lands on my shoulder, and I look up to find Mom giving me a soft smile. “He’ll comearound.”
No, he wouldn’t. He didn’t come around for all these years, so I didn’t see that changing anytime soon.
That annoyance Dylan was talking about? It was because of me. Because the last thing my father wanted was to have me back under his roof, albeit temporarily.
My phone rings through the Bluetooth connection the moment I enter the city limits. After the tense breakfast, I helped Mom clean up and did my PT, which left me with barely enough time for a shower before I had to leave to meet Emmett in town.
Checking my screen, the corner of my mouth lifts as I press the answer button, and the call connects.
“Miss me already, old man?”
There is a beat of silence, and, for a moment, I think he might have hung up on me, but then the surly voice of my teammate spreads through the cabin. “Who you calling old, Rookie?”
“Rookie, my ass. Don’t you think it’s time for you to stop calling me that? I think I deserve the upgrade after last year.”
“What you deserve is to have your ass handed to you so you learn your place. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Fernandez?”
“Sure do, and I didn’t hear any complaints. Besides, you really have to face the truth. You’re an old man by league’s standards, Walker. Just accept it already.”
Blake Walker is one of the linebackers on the Austin Lonestars’ team, defense-team captain, and, at thirty-four, one of the senior players on the team. He took me under his wing the moment I stepped into the facilities, and we’ve been on the same page from the very first day. I’m not sure if there was somethinghe saw in me, a potential of sorts, or if he just appreciated the fact that there was one guy on the team he didn’t have to worry about getting his ass in trouble outside of the field. Whatever the reason, we just clicked on and off the field, and it showed.
“The fuck I am, I can still outrun you any day of the week, Rookie.”
