by Lucy Snow
I looked to my right and saw the other bed. Ugh. Maybe this wouldn’t work out at all.
The door opened and a bag came in, carried by a guy I had seen before when doing research on the Patriots. I wasn’t a fan of a particular team as a kid, I just liked watching all the greats do their thing under the bright lights, and try to pick up those moves and put my own spin on them.
And I had lit up the high school and college game doing it.
That meant when I found out I would be a New England Patriot, I didn’t really know anything about them, and I had done a little bit of research on the way here.
The guy was tall, a couple inches taller than me. Built, like he knew his way around a gym, but that was every football player, though some did have a habit of arriving to training camp 30-40 pounds overweight. Not this guy.
This guy was Lance Parker, the quarterback of the New England Patriots. He had a reputation for being a choir boy.
“Hey!” He smiled as he dropped his bag and came over to me. “I’m Lance Parker. You must be Drake Rollins.”
I stood up, a little surprised he knew my name at first, but I regained my composure quick. “Yeah, man, Drake Rollins. Good to meet you.”
“Looks like we’re gonna be roommates.” Lance turned around and set his bag on his bed.
“Yeah? You sure there wasn’t some mixup with the room assignments?”
Lance laughed. “No, man, nothing like that. Coach Armstrong has a weird way of doing things. This is only my second year, but I learned that in the first week last year. Expect the unexpected around here.”
“Yeah?” Last year Lance had gone nearly undrafted, taken in like the sixth round or something. He had been a backup his first year, but after last season, the team had shipped the starter out of town for some draft picks, betting it all on Lance to take over. They had drafted a new backup in the 4th or 5th round, I thought.
Lance unzipped his bag and started unloading things, still turned away from me. “It’s not just a way of doing things around here, it’s a way of life.” He put some things away in one of the drawers on the end table next to his bed and sat down. “You’ll find out about it soon enough,” he said with a grin.
“Any tips? I want to make a good impression, make sure I get to stick around a while.”
“Good man. Trouble is, the tips are just cliches by this point, stuff I’m sure you’ve heard your entire life. Try your hardest, try and get better each day, and don’t sweat the small stuff.”
“You’re right, I have heard that stuff all before.”
Lance nodded. “It’s all true, and now even more so. You’re still the same, it’s just that now the competition is a lot better. Know how many college football players there are?”
“Somewhere north of 10,000.”
“Yup, and that’s just in Division 1. How many players are there in the pros?”
I did the math really quick. “About 1700.”
Lance smiled. “Very close. 1696 to be precise, not including practice squads. What does that tell you?”
I thought about it for a second. “It tells you most college players don’t make it here. Only the best of the best even get a shot.”
“Exactly. It’s not guaranteed. If you screw up here, there are any number of other players who will climb over you to get your spot.”
“That’s pretty dark, man, how do you deal with it?”
Lance’s face clouded up, like he was thinking really hard. “Not well,” was all he said.
Suddenly the room had gotten a little still, and the air was heavy. I figured I’d change the subject and keep things light, no sense in finding out your roommate’s dark secrets in the first 10 minutes. “What’s the deal with having guests here?”
“Guests?”
“Yeah, you know, having some girls over. Gotta have fun in the evenings and weekends, yeah?” I smiled.
Lance did not. “This isn’t a frat house, Drake. We’re not here to party.”
“I know, I know, but how do you all let off some steam? You know, relax?”
“I go to the gym for that. I watch film, work on my mechanics.”
So Lance Parker really was the football-playing robot I had heard about. And he was my roommate.
Shit.
It suddenly occurred to me that Lance Parker was not someone I could think of as a friend. Yeah, we were living together for a little while, but that didn’t mean we were brothers or anything. Not yet. I had to watch myself around him, or he could go blabbing to Coach Armstrong and get me kicked off the team faster than I could figure out what was happening.
I had to be careful. No one was on my side but me, not until I had shown them what I could do and just how valuable I was to the team.
“Can I give you a little piece of advice?”
“Sure, man.”
“Something I wish someone had told me when I got here. Keep your eyes and ears open. Yeah, this is a cutthroat business, but we’re all here for the same reason.”
Yeah, I’m here to make the team, get a huge contract, and have that money roll in so I can live the good life.
When I didn’t say anything, Lance continued. “And that’s to win a championship for New England. That’s the only thing that matters around here.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“The coaches and all the other players, that’s all we want. So if you make that all you want, and you do what it takes to make that happen, learn as much as you can, take the criticism where it comes, and just get better every day, then you’ll fit in just fine.”
He paused. “But if you’re here to showboat, you might as well keep your bags packed. We’re not the flashiest team in the league; we don’t care about that stuff. We’re here to win games. It doesn’t have to look pretty or show up on ESPN every night, it just has to work. You got me?”
“I got you. Thanks for the pep talk.”
Lance looked at me like he wasn’t sure I had listened to a word he’d said, but then he grunted, the same way Coach Armstrong liked to do, and went back to unpacking.
A few minutes later, a knock on the door, then it opened. “Lance!” A booming voice from outside shouted before coming in.
The voice belonged to a mountain of a man, huge and all muscle. Dude was a good 3 inches taller than me and had at least 20-30 pounds on me. Damn.
“Hud!” Lance jumped up and hugged the guy, pulling away and shaking his hand after. I could tell right away that these were two really good friends.
Then it hit me. Hud - Hudson Asher, linebacker, stalwart of the Patriots defense. The guy was a defensive legend in his day. I remember being surprised when I found out he was still playing. The guy had a career resume a mile long, full of accomplishments.
The only one he was still chasing was a championship.
“Drake, this is Hudson Asher. Hud, this is Drake, our new receiver.”
“Good to meet you, Hud.” I stood up from my bed and shook Hud’s hand. I liked to think I had a strong grip, but Hud just crushed me. I pulled my hand back and winced. “Hey man, not too rough on the hands, these are my livelihood!”
Hud beamed back at me. “Mine too. Good to meet you, Drake. I hear good things about you.”
“Yeah, well, they’re all true.”
He nodded. “I have no doubt, and even if I did, I’ll see if you can play as well as you party soon enough.”
What the fuck, was everyone on this team a fucking pro scout? “You guys keep track of all that? Don’t you guys have, you know, games to play?”
Hud got serious. “Yeah, man, everyone’s a scout here. That’s just how we work. You never know who’s gonna figure out who we want to have on our side.” He licked his hips. “And what to do if we see someone on the other side.”
The more I learned about how the Patriots were run, the less I could believe it. This wasn’t a football team, it was a paramilitary organization.
“Yeah, you’ll see my stuff soon enough. Just wait till we get out on the field and you
line up across me.”
Hud laughed, a deep laugh that felt like it could cause an earthquake. “You talk big, Rook, but I won’t see you across from me for a while, if ever. You think a rookie gets to play with the first time right off the bat? You’re dreaming.”
Lance ribbed Hud in the stomach. “Lay off him, man, he’s new. He’s been playing with children so far.”
“I know, I know. But there’s one every year, man, I swear. Someone shows up here thinks he’s gonna burn the league up and more often than not he’s out on his ass in a month.”
He chuckled. “And they’re mostly receivers, too. I wonder what it is about receivers.”
I had to get back in there. “Everyone likes seeing big touchdown catches.”
“You’re right, they do, but that’s outside the building. In here we care about being a good teammate just as much as we care about making big plays. The point is, we don’t need to make big plays as long as we win.”
Lance poked Hud again. “I gave him the speech already. Let’s go get some food.”
“He’s gonna hear it over and over till he’s memorized it, I’m just helping him out. Enjoy your first day, rookie, and bring your A-game tomorrow or we’ll know you didn’t.” He turned to Lance. “Food it is, lead on, brother.”
I wondered for a second if they would invite me to eat with them, then I thought back and wondered if I had ever taken a rookie under my wing and helped him out. Nope!
Lance ushered Hud out of the room and I could hear them laughing and joking down the hall as they caught up. They must have run into another one of their friends along the way, there were more greetings as their voices faded.
I had to get ahold of myself. I had to remember why I was here. These guys had given me a chance when no one else would, and here I was griping about the room. Come on, Drake, get your head together.
I wasn’t here to make friends with these guys. I was here to show them what I could do. I needed to prove to them that I was worth keeping around each and every single day, until they realized they couldn’t afford to cut me, and risk me going to another team.
Another knock on the door. It opened without me saying anything, and an assistant stuck his head in. “Your, uh, reporter is here. Come out to the main area.”
Shit, right, The Boston Globe girl, Lily Pearson. I had forgotten all about that in all the commotion of getting here, despite her being on my mind 24/7 since the draft. She was here already! I guessed the team and the paper wanted their reality show to start sooner rather than later.
I checked myself in the mirror and made sure I looked up to par before heading out to meet her.
She was waiting in the main hall of the facility, nervously looking around, and trying to look like she had been here before.
She was dressed for work, and damn, did she look good. I hadn’t seen a girl more beautiful than that in…I couldn’t remember how long. Maybe ever.
If this were any other place I’d be looking around for somewhere the two of us could be alone and I could work my magic on her. There really wasn’t that much magic to perform - once girls found out who I was and what I could do, that was usually enough.
This girl was different, though. We had a little bit of history together, and now we were stuck together on this…whatever this thing was the Globe and the Patriots had us doing.
I had to resist her as long as I could, though. Every time I looked at her I wanted to rip off her clothes and do disgustingly naughty things to her, but I couldn’t risk it, not when so much was on the line.
It occurred to me right then and there - as bad a start as Lily Pearson and I had gotten off to, she might be the closest thing to a friend I had in this entire building.
“Hey, Lily.”
CHAPTER 11 - LILY
I had never been to the Patriots’ facility. Yeah, my father and I had come to games once a year, but that was different. That was the other side. This was where the players and coaches and assistants just walked around freely and did their thing!
It was exhilarating just being here, as a fan of the team. I almost didn’t want to get involved, just watch as people worked, listening in on conversations, getting a feel for how the team was run.
I mean, you see the finished product out on the field on Sundays, but getting to that 3 hours took year-round preparation. It was so easy to lose sight of that as a fan.
Standing here, though, that came to the front. Occasionally someone would stop in front of me and ask if I needed help, they they would see my “PRESS” badge and walk away. The Patriots had an almost mythical aversion to the press, all because of Coach Armstrong.
They called covering the Patriots the hardest and most thankless job in sports media for that very reason. While the general manager’s office and the team ownership might occasionally got interested in public perception, from the coaches on down to the players they treated the media like they were getting in the way, like they were information leeches.
This joint venture of sorts between the team and the Globe would hopefully spark a new partnership, a new way for the team to reach out to the media and get on board with how things worked these days, but I wasn’t holding my breath.
An assistant had gone to tell Drake Rollins that I was here, so I waited for him, wondering what this next assignment was going to be like. I just wanted to cover the story and stay as far away from him as I could, because if I didn’t, I had no idea whether I would be able to control myself.
I was stuck covering him, and that was as far as it was going to go. At least, that’s as far as I hoped it would go. Despite the rest of my body screaming for it to go much, much further.
Stupid body. We had work to do. Keep it together, Pearson.
I kept going back and forth between being nervous about the job that lay in front of me and being wide-eyed and in awe of being around the Patriots’ facility. I took a couple pictures and sent them to my dad - he must have been waiting for my message, because he replied almost immediately, telling me he wished he could be there.
I did too. Hopefully I could get him a guest pass of some kind soon so he could see it. I didn’t know how long I would be on this beat, so I might as well take advantage of it while I could.
I turned around, feeling like I must stand out like a sore thumb around all these people walking around with purpose, but all of a sudden I caught his eye as Drake Rollins walked toward me.
Damn, he looked good. It had only been a weekend since I had seen him at the draft, when he was all dressed up in a suit and looking fine, but today he looked a little more casual, but just as sexy as before. I could feel myself flush with lust, which set off twinges of embarrassment and anxiety.
Keep it together, Lily, keep it together.
If only it were that easy around him. He did things to me with a look that the best and most lurid romance novels could only hope to achieve. And I wondered if he knew just how devastating that smile could be?
He should have to register it as a deadly weapon.
“There you are,” his gravelly voice echoed out, pulling me toward him. “Making me wait like that.”
Already with this? “I’ve been waiting here forever.”
“Yeah, well, this is the wrong place to wait.” He stopped in front of me, and looked me up and down, taking a little longer than was polite.
If we had been at a nightclub or party, I would have thought he was coming onto me with a look like that, but this was where, for a little while, both of us lived and worked.
In fact, how long we both lived and worked here was almost entirely up to Drake and his ability to get over himself and make the team.
If it were possible for a guy who had just gone undrafted in the most spectacularly visible of manners to act like a smarmy asshole, Drake Rollins was clearly doubling down and going for a world record.
With Drake standing in front of me up close like that I couldn’t help but feel a rush of electricity wash over my body. It had been months
since we’d been this close to each other, and I didn’t know how to act around him now that we were supposed to be ‘working’ together.
“So, uh, how do we do this?”
Drake smiled that winning smile of his, the one that made me forget how to speak. “I thought you’d know all about that.”
“We-well,” I stammered, “I had some ideas that I wanted to discuss with you.”
He shifted in his stance, like he was starting to get bored already. “Obviously,” I kept on going, trying to fill the space up, since it was clear Drake didn’t feel like talking much, “we can figure something out that works for both of us.”
“Yeah, I don’t really want to do this.”
I let some of the calm and sunny disposition fall away, and stepped in a little closer, more than mildly intimidated by Drake’s huge muscles and piercing look. “You know, Drake, I don’t really want to do this either, but I don’t have much of a choice, and it sounds like from what I hear, you don’t either.”
Drake looked at me like it had been forever since a woman his own age, had spoken to him like that. He quickly recovered, though, and the smile came back just as bright as before. “Come on, this has gotta be the best assignment ever for you! You get to follow me around,” he puffed himself up and flexed a little, admiring how ripped and toned he was.
I had to admit, being this close to Drake Rollins had me admiring how ripped and toned he was too, with the added bonus of being able to reach out and touch him if I wanted.
No! Down, Lily, down! This was neither the time nor the place to indulge in those kinds of fantasies. No touching!
At least not in real life. Later on when I got back to my room, ALONE, I could maybe relax that rule a little bit and be all over him in my head. But that was as far as it could go.
I needed this assignment and I needed this job.
“Had enough?” I asked, tapping my foot and crossing my arms under my breasts. Drake stopped immediately, his eyes falling down to my chest. I could feel my cheeks redden as I dropped my arms. On the one hand, it looked like I was going to have to be the only adult in this working relationship; but on the other hand, I really did enjoy it when he looked at me like that.