by Hannah Ford
Faith sat down next to him and smiled at the men sitting across from them.
The three men didn’t react.
Chase picked up his fork. “How’s the food, boys?” he asked, and then dug in without waiting for an answer.
Two of the men stood up without a word, grabbed their trays, and walked away from the table.
“Nice seeing you guys,” Chase called after them, waving.
The third man who’d stayed behind was stone-faced. He was so big that he was fat, with a double chin, an unkempt beard and stringy hair that went to his shoulders. “I know you think it’s all a big joke, Winters,” the man said, his eyes almost like slits. “But some of us take this shit seriously. We didn’t all get fuck you money, we need to actually play and win games.”
Chase shrugged and shoveled a large mass of chicken and rice into his mouth, chewing.
Faith’s throat was tight. She looked around and saw that pretty much everyone was watching their table now.
The entire restaurant seemed enveloped by silence and Chase seemed completely oblivious or uncaring about it. He shoveled another large helping of food into his mouth and chewed.
“Look around,” the huge, fat man said, leaning forward. “Every one of these dudes hates you,” he said. “And that’s not a good thing when you depend on us to protect you. Maybe tomorrow I’ll forget to throw a block and let someone from Miami take your fucking head off.”
Chase kept chewing, but Faith saw his neck was bright red and a vein was pulsating in his temple.
“Is that all you got to say, Winters? Nothing, huh?” The man shook his head. “You got nothing, just like you had nothing against Green Bay.”
Chase stopped chewing and froze.
Faith felt her stomach do a slow, sick roll. “Hey,” she said softly to Chase. “Don’t listen to him.”
Chase was staring straight ahead.
“That’s right,” the man across from him smirked. “Let your little lady fight your battles. She seems like she’s got bigger balls than you do,” the fat man continued.
Suddenly Chase smacked his water glass across the table, and water splashed the fat man’s face and body, as the cup smacked into his chest.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Chase said, standing up.
The fat man rose to his feet, surprisingly fast for his size. “Do you have a death wish, asshole?” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
“You talk about her again and I’ll break your neck,” Chase muttered, his voice coming from his throat in a deep growl.
Faith could hardly breathe.
They were going to fight right here in the hotel restaurant. That much was clear.
And nobody was going to stop it, because all the jerks watching them, wanted it to happen. They hated Chase for some reason, and nobody would help him.
But just when it seemed like they were going to come to blows, a smaller African American man came over and stepped in between them. He put his hand on the fat man’s shoulder looked at him. “Chill, Little Man,” he said.
“Did you see what he did? He threw water on me,” the fat guy said, like a child complaining to a teacher.
Chase laughed at the fat player. “I was just trying to wash your hair—shit looks gnarly.”
The fat man lunged at Chase but his teammate somehow held him back.
“Just chill,” the smaller guy said. “Let me handle it.”
It was clear from their body language that the big fat guy respected the smaller man, and he dropped his gaze and nodded sullenly. Then he turned, picked up his tray and looked at Winters. “Everyone knows you’re going to fail,” the fat man said, then turned and stalked off.
The smaller man turned towards Chase and Faith with a bright grin. “You two sure know how to make an entrance,” he said, shaking his head and chuckling good-naturedly. Then he made eye contact directly with Faith. “My name’s Steve but everyone just calls me Velcro. Or Jones.”
“I know who you are,” Faith said, realizing that Steve “Velcro” Jones, was actually talking to her. She hadn’t recognized him out of uniform, but now she made the connection.
He was a certain shoe-in for the hall of fame, having amassed three Super Bowl rings over the course of his long career. He’d become legendary in New England and was beloved by the fans for his ability to catch balls from all angles, often making even the toughest passes look easy to catch.
“And who might you be?” Velcro asked.
“This is my girl, Faith,” Chase told him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Faith.” Velcro shot her a warm smile and then waved over a tall, gorgeous woman with skin the color of coffee. What was most impressive about her—aside from her incredible figure—was her sharp green eyes that were almost hypnotic to look into.
She had a smile that was even friendlier than Velcro’s. “I’m Monique,” she said, holding out her hand. As Faith shook her hand, saying hello and smiling, she noticed a gigantic rock of an engagement ring on it.
“Wow, your ring’s stunning,” Faith said.
Monique grinned and then turned to Velcro, rubbing his chest. “He just proposed to me last month. We’re getting married once the season’s over.”
“Hopefully, I’ll have a new ring to add to my collection before Monique and me get our wedding bands,” Velcro said, winking, obviously hinting at another Super Bowl ring.
“That would be amazing,” Faith replied. “By the way, thanks for stepping in like you did. I really appreciate that.”
“Yeah,” Chase agreed. “Thanks, Vel.”
Velcro Jones shrugged. “It ‘aint nothing, kids. We need to try and keep this team from blowing up. We should be excited because this could be our year to shine, but instead we got nothing but drama and ridiculousness.”
Monique shook her head, looking at Faith. “They’re supposedly professionals, you know? But the truth is, they’re just a bunch of little boys.”
Chase laughed. “She speaks the truth.”
“That she does,” Velcro said. “Mind if we sit with you guys for a bit?”
“That would be lovely,” Faith said, relieved to have someone be friendly for a change.
They all sat down together and continued eating, and it seemed that all of the tension had left the restaurant. The rest of the team was talking again, laughing, engaged in their own worlds, and nobody seemed to be staring at them anymore.
Faith found that she’d taken an instant liking to Velcro Jones and his fiancé Monique. Monique was bright, sweet and beautiful—a very rare combination.
As the two of them talked, Faith found herself having a rather surprising thought.
I think I’d like us to be friends.
While Faith and Monique talked about things like where each of them was from—Monique was originally from New York but had lived in Atlanta for most of her adult life before meeting Velcro and coming to New England with him—Chase and Velcro were talking only about the Miami game the next day.
Towards the end of the meal, Coach Hugo and a few of his staff entered the room and made the rounds, talking to players and ruffling children’s hair, cracking jokes and basically sounding upbeat.
When Coach Hugo got to their table, he gave Chase and Velcro an approving glance. “Good to see you made it,” he said to Faith, but she knew he really meant his comment for Chase.
“The food’s lovely. As is the company,” she added, smiling at Monique, who blushed.
“This girl is too sweet for her own good, Coach,” Monique said.
“What’s she see in Winters, is my question?” Coach Hugo retorted gruffly, but gave a sly wink to show he meant it in fun.
“Love is truly blind,” Velcro said.
Chase grabbed Faith’s hand and shot her a look that felt very much like appreciation. Her heart was warmed, knowing that she’d contributed in some small way to things getting better for him.
Coach Hugo gave Chase a big slap on his back and then continued on, leaving the resta
urant not long afterward.
As Monique and Velcro got up and started to leave the table, Monique turned around. “Hey,” she said, as if just getting an idea. “Would you two like to have drinks with us a little later?”
Chase sighed. “I can’t really drink the night before a game—“
“Come on,” Velcro snorted. “Don’t give me that shit.”
Faith gave his hand a squeeze. “That sounds lovely,” she said.
Chase looked at her as if trying to read her mind. She squeezed his hand again. This was an opportunity to make an ally on his team, and she didn’t want him to reject the offer.
“I guess I’d be down to hang out,” Chase said, finally giving in. “Why don’t you guys stop by our room?” He told them their room number and then Velcro said they’d be there in a little while.
After Velcro and his fiancé had left the restaurant, Chase turned to Faith. “We can always give an excuse and cancel,” he told her.
“Cancel on them? Why?” Faith asked.
“I don’t know,” Chase said, frowning a little.
“You don’t like Velcro?” she asked.
“I like the guy, but I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t know if you trust anyone,” Faith replied.
Chase caressed her cheek briefly. “I trust you.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah.” He stared at her, daring her to contradict him.
She just grabbed his hand again and rubbed his palm with her fingertips. “I like them,” she said. “And he was the only one who even tried to be friendly. Don’t you think that’s worth something?”
“I do,” Chase said, nodding. “And he’s a veteran that the entire team respects. But I wonder if he’s just being nice to try and play the team captain role.”
“Who cares if that’s why?”
“Because,” Chase told her, his jaw setting. “It’s fake. I don’t want some dude pretending to be my friend because he considers it part of his job description.”
Faith understood. “I still think we should try. Maybe he’ll actually like you if he gets to know you.”
Chase blew air out. “Well, I am very likeable. You make a good point.” He flashed her a grin.
She smiled in return and looked into Chase’s beautiful eyes. “Try and trust someone else,” she told him. “It’s good for the soul.”
* * *
They went back up to the room and got ready for Monique and Velcro.
Chase was wearing a button down shirt and dark slacks, and the shirt was open a few buttons, revealing the broad expanse of his upper chest. The shirt stretched out across his shoulders and was tight along the heavily muscled biceps and forearms, to the point where Faith could see the cuts in his musculature.
Faith was wearing a skirt, heels and a white blouse. She applied the final touches to her makeup and then came out into the suite, where Chase was standing at the window, holding a bottle of water and staring out at the stadium.
She came up behind him. “Are you thinking about tomorrow?” she asked, hesitantly.
He shrugged. “Miami’s no joke. They’ve got one of the best defenses in the league—maybe the best.”
“You’re going to do great. I know it.”
He nodded but didn’t seem moved by her conviction. “So many people want to see me fail,” he said, his voice almost a monotone, as if he was in a trance. “Sometimes I wonder what people get out of it. Seeing someone fail. Why do they like it?”
“Because,” Faith told him, “it makes them feel better about their own failures.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Pretty smart, girl. Pretty smart.” He turned back to the window. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just in a strange mood. But right now, the whole thing just seems so fucking pointless.”
“The game?”
“A bunch of adult men running around in costumes, with goofy pads and helmets, smashing into one another, getting paid millions while people cheer in the stands.” He shook his head. “It wouldn’t seem real if I didn’t live it.”
“I thought you loved football.”
“I do, sometimes,” he said. “Other times I hate it.”
She let her hands drift to his back and then slid them around his waist. “Things will feel different after the game.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they will.” He turned slowly until he was facing her, and then Chase leaned in and kissed her so tenderly.
Their lips lingered like that for a long time.
There was suddenly a knock at the door, and then laughter from outs in the hall.
Chase straightened up and went to the door, opening it. Monique and Velcro came in, laughing, carrying bottles of wine.
“What were you two up to in here?” Velcro said, pointing at Chase. “Were you hooking up, bro? You can tell me.”
“Fuck off,” Chase said, but he was grinning.
Monique gave Faith a big hug, and then held a bottle aloft. “We come bearing gifts. Now we just need to put some music on in here. It’s a little dry, you know?”
Faith laughed and turned on the television, finding the music stations and putting it on a pop channel.
As the music floated through the room, Monique and Velcro poured their wine into glasses and handed them to Faith and Chase.
Chase held out a hand and tried to refuse.
“Dude,” Velcro said, looking fierce, “we never hung out before. And we’re never going to ever hang out again if you act like some fucking choirboy. We going to have a drink or two and have a nice time, okay? Okay?”
Faith found herself getting a little nervous. Chase was studying his teammate’s face and he wasn’t smiling.
Velcro was staring back at him, and the tension was building, as Velcro held the glass of red wine out towards Chase.
It was like an olive branch and Faith knew that if Chase refused, the evening would be ruined.
Monique gave her a worried glance, as if to beg her to do something.
“Oh, I’ll drink it,” Faith said, about to grab the glass from Velcro’s hand.
But Chase took it first and drank a big sip. “Fuck it,” he said. “I’m a big boy, I can moderate.”
“Yes!” Velcro shouted, raising his glass and laughing in that deep baritone voice that was so infectious.
Monique and Faith broke into relieved laughter as well. Faith took a different glass and clinked it with her new friend.
They seemed to share an unspoken bond, Faith decided. It was strange when you met someone and just had an instant connection—feeling as though you’d known one another forever.
Faith found that she had that sense with Monique, as the two of them instantly began talking and laughing like old friends.
Monique started telling Faith about the other players’ wives and girlfriends and how silly all the drama and cliques were. “I cant hang with most of them, but I have to try and make an effort for Vel’s sake,” she said, gesturing to her fiancé.
Velcro Jones and Chase were drinking over by the window and talking, heads bowed close together. Chase nodded and then let out a loud peal of laughter that sounded so genuine, it shocked Faith.
“I can’t believe I just heard him laugh like that,” Faith said softly. “He’s been in a tense mood ever since we got here.”
“That’s Vel,” Monique said, shaking her head in admiration. “That’s why he’s a leader. He’s not the biggest or the strongest, and he’s older than most of these guys. He’s from a different time, a different era. He believes in making people feel good.”
“And they all love him for it,” Faith said, sipping her wine.
Monique tilted her head. “They respect him, because he’s been through it all. But more than that, he just likes people. And he seems to have a way of loosening everyone up, getting them to relax. It’s why I love him.”
Faith watched Monique staring at her fiancé and smiled, appreciating the obvious caring she displayed for Velcro.
Chase was
still grinning, and even though Faith didn’t know why, it thrilled her that he’d made some kind of connection with someone on the team. She hated thinking of him being so alone with everyone against him.
“Is it hard watching the games, seeing Vel get hit and knocked around?” Faith asked.
Monique’s smile died on her lips. She studied her wine glass. “The game is tough,” she said. “It does something to them. It…it changes people.”
“How so?”
“It’s violent,” she said, and looked up, her gorgeous eyes locking on Faith, her gaze suddenly penetrating and almost angry.
Faith felt a mysterious chill run through her. “But they know how to deal with it,” she said, as if defending against Monique’s claim that Chase could also be irrevocably changed. “They’ve been playing football since they were kids.”
“This is different,” Monique told her. “This isn’t high school or even college football. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love the game and I see that it’s his passion, it’s his gift. But there’s a cost, honey. Don’t ever let them tell you that they don’t deserve the millions they earn. Every penny of that money is earned in blood and tears.”
At that moment, Chase grabbed a box of tissues off one of the tables and Velcro ran across the room, pretending to run a passing route as if he was on the football field.
Chase tossed the tissue box in a high arc and Velcro ran almost to the door of the room, one arm outstretched, turning to look back over his shoulder as the tissues flew at him.
It looked impossible for him to reach it, but then at the very last moment, his fingers outstretched and snagged the box, pulling it in as Faith and Monique burst into cheers.
Clapping, Faith found herself thinking that Velcro genuinely looked thrilled and proud, as if he’d just caught a pass in the big game in front of thousands of screaming fans.
He spiked the box on the carpet and then did his patented “Velcro slide” that he was known for, before breaking into a hearty laugh.
Chase raised his arms and then ran across the room in a few easy strides and gave his teammate a high five and they chest bumped, both of them laughing.