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“How are you feeling?” Dad asks.
We haven’t gotten back to the place we were before, but things are a lot better than they were back in January. Even though we don’t view football and this career exactly the same anymore, he’s still my father, and I want him by my side for moments like this. He understands, better than anyone else, what I’m about to embark on.
In less than an hour, Bex and I will know where we’re moving after graduation.
For a while, all the talk seemed to be about San Francisco, but there are rumors that Philadelphia might trade up to get a better first-round pick to take one of the three really good quarterbacks on the board—me, the guy from Alabama who beat me back inJanuary, and the QB from Duke. Back when I won the Heisman, there was no doubt I’d go first in the draft, but the loss in the championship game screwed with that certainty. I don’t mind; there’s no guarantee that where I start out will be where I spend the majority of my career, but the hope is that whichever team takes me is willing and ready to build a team around me that can win. I’ve tried not to think much about the specifics, because it’s not like I can pick, but it would be great if we didn’t have to be the only ones in either of our families to live all the way across the country.
“It’s starting,” a producer says, speaking to the room at large. “As a reminder, we’ll be cutting between this backstage waiting area and the stage, so remember you’re on camera. If you get the call, first and foremost congratulations. Remember to answer the call and then follow the green arrows to the stage to be introduced. The live feed will be played up front on the TVs.”
I look at my dad, taking in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
He squeezes my shoulder, rocking me slightly. Honestly, I think he’s more nervous than I am.
As the feed goes live, Bex holds onto my hand.
The San Francisco 49ers have the first pick. They take the quarterback from Alabama.
The New York Jets have the second pick, and they take the best tackle on the board.
With the third pick, things get interesting. Philly trades up from the slot at sixth, offering Houston a slew of picks in the later round.
I know, deep in my bones, the second they announce the pick is in, that they’ve chosen me.
My phone, resting on the table before us, rings. I’m frozen for half a second, but then I feel Bex dig her nails into my hand, andthat prompts me into motion. I pick it up, clearing my throat as I say hello.
“James,” my new coach says. “Welcome to the Philadelphia Eagles.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You ready to work?”
I meet Bex’s eyes. She has her hands clasped over her mouth, probably to keep from screaming while I’m on the phone. God, I love her.
Philadelphia. We can work with that.
I wink at her.
“Yes, sir.”
Acknowledgements
My warmest thank you is for you, reader!
In all the years I spent writing to this moment, I never quite dared to dream so big. It’s surreal to think of all you beautiful strangers taking a chance on this book. Thank you for spending some of your time with James, Bex, and the rest of the Callahans. I hope you loved experiencing their story as much as I loved writing it. And to everyone who has been here since my first faltering steps with this book in the fall of 2022, thank you for being on the journey. Please know that I see it, and that I appreciate it more than I can ever express in words.
Thank you to Claire, who encouraged me to finally put my sports fanaticism to good use and try my hand at a sports romance. To my parents and sister, my very first cheerleaders. Anna, I’m endlessly grateful that online fandom led me to you all those years ago! This book would not be finished, much less on this path, without your editorial thoughts and love. Thank you for holding my hand and letting me ramble as much as I need.
To Sylvan, and the entire team at Avon: thank you for believing in me and these books. I’m so thrilled to be on this journey!
Extended Epilogue
Turn the page for an exclusive extended epilogue!
Chapter 1
Bex
June
