by Lea Coll
“I believe in you. Let’s move down the field, slow and steady, confident and sure.”
“Got it, boss.”
He clapped my shoulder, not offering anything else. My eyes met Payton’s, love for her pouring out of me. Somehow during the game, the love I held on to to keep the negative thoughts at bay had filled every crevice of my soul until that’s all I could feel. Love. Determination. Happiness.
I wanted her to be proud of me, not my father, not my coaches.
Holding her gaze for one more second, I tried to convey everything I was feeling. I wished I could tell her, but it wasn’t the time or place.
She nodded slightly to me, the only acknowledgment she gave before I jogged onto the field, focused on the game once again. We were only ten yards from the wrong end zone. If the snap was off even a little, it would be easy for the defense to grab the ball taking it in for a touchdown like last time.
We needed to hold the line, not make any mistakes, move up the field. I kept chanting it to myself as I got into position, checking my line in my peripheral, the shifting defense.
I called out for the line to shift when I saw the defense lining up for a blitz.
We’d have to throw.
Will clapped, the signal for me to snap the ball. I lowered my head, grasping the ball tighter, drowning everything out. I’d done this a million times. Snap.
It was perfect. I heard the satisfying thump of the ball landing in Will’s hands as I raised my hands to block the three hundred and forty pound player lined up in front of me. Will stepped into the pocket, immediately firing off a short pass to the tight end in the middle of the field so the clock wouldn’t stop when the play ended.
Will clapped his hands. “Let’s go.”
And we knew what he was saying, more of the same, steady and focused.
We alternated short runs and passes until we were past midfield, not yet in field goal territory. It was third down and three.
“Forty seconds left,” Will said when the other team took a time-out to stop the running clock.
Forty seconds was a lifetime. Three yards the length of a desert without water if Chicago’s line held.
Anything could happen. I drowned out the deafening crowd, the pounding music, the expectations of my father, only letting in the vision of Payton before I walked out for this possession, the support and love shining so clearly in her eyes. She was the only thing that mattered.
If I played as hard as I could, I’d be satisfied no matter what happened. If I allowed myself to be overwhelmed by the negative voices, then I’d lose. I wouldn’t let that happen.
I yelled, firing up my line, waving my hands to the crowd, encouraging them to be louder to confuse the defense. No play had ever mattered more. I was up for the challenge. Snap the ball, block, push the line to the left, create space so Will could make the hand off to Eric, giving him room to run right.
Forty seconds. Three yards. My shot to go to the big game.
This is what I’d trained for physically and mentally.
We lined up, my slick hands tight on the ball. I watched the defense, listening for Will’s signal. At his clap, I snapped the ball. My hands up, I blocked left, watching for Eric to go right.
When the ref called the first down, my entire body sagged.
Will ran around us, shouting encouragement. “That’s it. More of the same.”
I knew he wanted to say this was our day, this was our game, but he didn’t. Too much emphasis on the importance caused men to fall apart in critical moments.
We ran three plays in a row, mixing up positioning and the direction, inching our way down the field, finally taking a knee with seconds on the clock.
The home crowd stood with a roar, the team, banging helmets, clapping shoulders, yelling. I let the victory wash over me, wanting to share my joy with Payton. The guys surrounded me, as green and blue confetti fell from the sky, division champion hats were passed around.
Will covered my head with one. “I’ve never been prouder. I knew you could do it.”
“Thanks, man.”
A stage was quickly assembled, a podium carried on while the fans and players celebrated. Coach Phillips stood on the podium with Will as they accepted the trophy and spoke about the win.
More pressure. More expectations. Nothing else mattered in that moment. We’d have two weeks to prepare and I was up for the challenge.
When the celebrations were over, I made my way to the tunnel, walking by Will, Eric, and the others talking to the sideline reporters, confident no one would want to talk to me.
I startled when one called my name. It wasn’t Lexie, it was another one I hadn’t seen before. She called my name a second time, so I stopped with a hand over my chest now covered with a divisional championship shirt. “You want to talk to me?”
“I’m Janine Weigand, reporter for Seattle. Congrats on your win.” Her smile was calculating, not congratulatory.
“Thanks.” I didn’t trust her. My heart pounded in my ears, and dread swirled in my stomach as I carefully watched her face.
She smiled as if she had a secret she wanted to reveal.
If she worked for Seattle she would have stayed in the same hotel as the team. She might have seen Payton walk into my room last night.
“You’re dating Noah Axworthy’s sister. The intern on the coaching staff.”
Everything around me stilled, the noise from the crowd died down. I felt my teammates eyes on me. Payton wasn’t just Noah’s sister or the intern. Anger shot through me hot and fierce. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “Are you talking about Payton Axworthy?”
“She is the only female on the coaching staff.” Her expression was smug. She knew the answers to her questions.
Thoughts flew through my head at a rapid pace. She knew. It was public knowledge. I was live on camera. Everyone was watching. I wasn’t sure what to say or do that would lessen the importance of this moment. What would save Payton’s job, her reputation.
“I’m here to talk about football. You have a question about the game?” My voice was low, my eyes on her.
“You don’t want to acknowledge her?” There was weight in her question.
By saying nothing, was I protecting Payton or hurting her more? I couldn’t make any declaration without talking to her. She had the most to lose.
I turned and walked away, regret nipping my heels. I wasn’t approached by media unless I made a mistake. If the media knew about our relationship, I’d screwed up big time. The high from the win dissipated as I scanned the eyes of those around me. Was it Janine or had someone else seen something, tipping her off?
I scanned the crowd for Payton. I didn’t see her. Did she already know? Was she dealing with the fallout? I wanted to talk to her, to warn her, protect her. I walked into the locker room, hoping to shower quickly and get to her. When I stepped inside, the pops of champagne bottles greeted my ears.
There were more T-shirts and hats declaring us divisional champions, champagne flowing, the trophy held in Will’s arms.
I wanted to revel in this moment, unsure when it would happen again, at the same time, I was twisted inside, wanting to get to Payton. When I finally made it through the guys, the shoulder slaps, words of congratulations, I pulled my phone out of my locker.
Turning it on, I only found a message from Payton sent prior to the game. Good luck!
Nothing else. My phone started ringing, Dad was calling. I hit ignore. I should have blocked him like Payton suggested.
I grabbed a towel, heading to the showers. Taking the quickest one I could, I sidestepped the reporters waiting to talk to the important guys. I dropped my towel before I noticed one stood by my locker. It was a different reporter from last time, her lanyard indicated she wasn’t with our team.
“Care to comment on your relationship with the coaching intern?”
I bit my cheek to stop myself from saying fuck no. I tugged on my suit pants. Normally we’d have to wear a suit. Today we would be ab
le to wear our new shirts to celebrate. I pulled the clean shirt over my head, shoving everything in my bag, not worrying about my suit jacket getting wrinkled. I didn’t care about anything, not this woman, the camera man behind her, or my win.
I shrugged past her, keeping my head down as anger swirled in my gut. Someone must have seen Payton come to my room last night or leave early this morning. It was the only explanation.
I looked for Payton in the throng waiting outside the hallway. Then I looked in the lounge where significant others usually waited, forgetting she wouldn’t be there. I hadn’t told her to meet me. She was a coach. Where would she go after the game?
I called her, putting the phone to my ear. I cursed the fact it was an away game, that I didn’t have my own vehicle. I couldn’t get to her as fast as I needed to. I made my rounds of the stadium before finally waiting at the bus for the rest of the team to pile in. My teammates were making plans for celebrations when I just wanted to get back to the hotel.
I didn’t know her hotel room number. I texted to ask, waiting for a response. I boarded the bus. She never got on. Had she taken a cab or Uber to the hotel to be alone? Was she pissed?
“What’s going on?” Gavin asked, sliding next to me. “You should be ecstatic. We won.”
“A reporter stopped me after the game.”
“For what?” He knew that was as odd as I did.
“To ask me if I’m dating Payton.”
“Intern Payton? Noah’s sister?” He lowered his voice, bracing his hand on the seat in front of him.
“Yeah.” I hunched over, trying to keep our conversation between us.
“Well, are you?”
I nodded.
“You’re worried about the effect it will have on her career.” He stated it like it was a fact. He’d been in my situation at the beginning of the season with Lexie.
“Yeah.”
“Speaking from experience, if this woman means anything to you, the rest of it doesn’t matter. You’ll figure it out.”
“I hope Payton feels the same way.” The growing unease settling into my weary muscles told me she did care.
Eric tapped on Gavin’s shoulder and he turned to talk to him.
I couldn’t think about anything except for the fallout, for Payton, for her career, our relationship. I thought we had more time. We could keep things a secret until after the last game. The anger that coursed through me when the reporter confronted me was a living, pulsing thing beneath my skin, threatening to break out.
I waited impatiently for the guys to grab their stuff and exit the vehicle. They were headed to the bar, I said I might see them later.
I had to make things right with Payton first.
I stopped at the front desk. They wouldn’t give me her room number. I entered the elevator pissed that I hadn’t gotten the number from her. I didn’t even know what floor she was on.
When the doors opened to my floor, she stood there, bags in hand. She looked devastated. I grabbed her shoulder, guiding her away from the elevator. “Where are you going?”
She avoided my eyes. “Home. I was going to head to the airport, get an earlier flight home.”
“You heard.”
“I saw that Janine woman interview you on TV. She knew.” Her eyes, full of hurt met mine briefly before sliding away.
“Yeah, she already knew.”
“How? I didn’t see anyone when I was leaving your room, but maybe I missed something. I don’t know. The elevator dinged when you opened the door. Maybe she got out and saw me or someone else did, passing on the information to her.”
We weren’t together outside my condo or work. It had to be the hotel. “Can we talk about this in my room?”
She bit her lip as if considering her choices. “Janine point-blanked asked you about us and you said nothing.”
I sighed. I meant well by staying quiet even though I could see it upset her. I could have publicly declared my feelings for her like Gavin did in the last regular season game, but I wanted to tell her in person. That’s who I was. “I didn’t want to say anything without speaking to you first. Can we please talk about this somewhere more private?”
Something in my voice had her nodding in agreement.
She allowed me to guide her into my room. I closed the door behind us.
She turned, her expression a mix of regret, longing, and defeat. “I should be congratulating you on your win. You should be out celebrating, not doing damage control.”
“There is nothing more important than you, making sure you’re alright. Did Coach Ruxton say anything yet?”
She held up her phone. “I have a text telling me we need to talk.”
“There’s no rule against us dating. He can’t fire you for it.”
“We both know this job was a gift, one that he can take away if this story is bad news for the team. The focus should be on the game, not who you’re dating.”
“My focus is on you. You got me through that game. I thought of you, the feelings I get when I’m with you to block out all the negative. You helped me win the game.”
She shook her head. “It was all you.”
I stepped closer, cupping her cheek. “It wasn’t. You were with me the whole time, the love I have for you carried me.”
She looked up at me, tears swirling in the blue depths. “You love me?”
“I love you, Payton Axworthy. I don’t care who your brother is or where you work. I love you.”
Her eyes searched my face, probably for any sign of insincerity.
She wouldn’t find any. “I love you, too. I was worried about saying it too soon.”
“It’s not too soon if it’s the truth. It’s my reality. I’ve never felt this for anyone else. I want you cheering me on from the sidelines. I want your words of encouragement. I want you to be proud of me. My dad doesn’t matter.”
“I want to say my boss doesn’t matter, but it’s not true.”
“Payton. You’re amazing. No matter where you land professionally, you are going to thrive. No one can hold you down.”
“I do want to open my own business, offer my skills to athletes. Maybe volunteer at the high school level pro bono.”
“I have no doubt you and your business will be in sports magazines, touting your help to young boys and girls across the world in line with your work for collegiate and professional athletes. You can do it.”
“I’ve had the support of my brother, my family. I’ve never had someone believe in me like this.”
“Me either.”
I dropped my forehead to hers. “Together we’re going to do amazing things because we love and support each other. We’re going to talk to Coach Ruxton together. If we decide it’s a good idea, we’ll talk to the press together. We do everything as a united front.”
She melted into me with each word. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
It sounded more than good. It sounded like my life was coming together in a way that had me soaring higher than any win.
We ignored the calls and texts asking where we were. I half-expected Noah to show up pounding on my door but he didn’t. I took my time, showing Payton what she meant to me. We kissed, exploring each other’s bodies as if it was the first time, chanting I love yous as we went. It was perfect.
In the middle of the night, I woke her, sliding into her for the second time, I realized my trick play was loving her.
Chapter 13
Payton
I woke the next morning, my stomach twisting and turning. I wouldn’t be able to ignore Noah or Coach Ruxton today. We had to get on the bus in an hour.
Checking to make sure Clay was still sleeping, I scrolled my phone to see how bad it was. Most of the headlines were about the win. There was a small article about how Seattle’s center was dating the only female member of the coaching team and Noah Axworthy’s sister.
As much as I didn’t want to be in the news at all, it rankled that my name wasn’t worthy of a mention. Would I always be Noah�
��s sister, only female coach, and now Clay’s girlfriend? I wanted to be Payton Axworthy, known for my hard work and the secret behind my athletes’ accomplishments.
As amazing as it was that nothing had changed between Clay and me. The reality was that the news of our relationship wouldn’t affect him as much as me.
My phone buzzed. It was Noah. I stood, taking it into the bathroom before answering.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“You have something you want to tell me?” I couldn’t tell from his tone if he was angry.
“I think I’d rather be having this conversation in person.” Not in a hotel bathroom.
“Yeah, well. I don’t want to talk about it on the team bus.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“It’s true isn’t it? You said the other night you met someone.”
“It is. The thing is it’s not that new. We met in college.” I held my breath waiting for him to explode. In high school, it was assumed his teammates would stay away from me, but this was different.
“You dated in college?”
I tipped my head back, wishing I could say yes. This was not a conversation I wanted to be having with my brother. “Not exactly.”
He groaned. “Do I want to know?”
“Probably not. The important thing is I was the one who didn’t leave my number. I didn’t want to see him again. At least that’s what I thought at the time. He had no idea you played football. When he was drafted to Seattle, I never mentioned it to you because I didn’t think it mattered.”
“So what, you started up again when you started the internship?”
“You have to know, Noah, this isn’t a fling. This is the real deal. He’s it for me.”
“How can you possibly know that after a few weeks?”
“I just do. Are you telling me he’s not a good guy?” He’d known Clay longer than me.
“No. I can’t say that. As long as you tell me your happy, I’ll support you.”
I tightened my fingers around my phone, the love I felt for Clay filling my chest. “I am. So happy. I didn’t mean for it to get out like this while I was interning.”
He sighed. “I bet. You’re worried about Coach Ruxton?”