8
Brody
All through practice, I felt damn good.
We were practicing offensive routes, and I was sharper than a bumblebee’s dick. I had my timing down, and my hands seemed to catch the ball with magnetic ease. It was like there had never been an off-season. I had never gotten a chance to get rusty.
Dallas was strong, too. That was a relief after his shoulder surgery. His throws were snappy and on-target. Only once at the beginning of practice did he throw a ball behind me, but then he adjusted and didn’t make another mistake all day.
There was an excited buzz after practice. We had high hopes for this season. Last year we were a pretty good team that over-achieved and made the playoffs. But this year? We were a new and improved version of ourselves. After signing Dallas to a contract extension, the front office went out and acquired a couple of other big pieces. Two new offensive linemen. A running back that led the league in rushing yards last season. All of that made my job as tight end much easier.
Tight end is technically a receiver position, but it’s a little more complicated than that. Tight ends can also act as offensive linemen in running plays, blocking for the running back and opening holes. Or dropping back and defending the quarterback during the blitz.
I’d saved Dallas’s ass plenty of times in college. It’s one of the reasons we were such good buddies.
“Want to get a drink?” Dallas asked me as we finished up on the field. “There’s a new bar over on Wilshire that I want to check out.”
“Eh, I can’t,” I replied. “It’s date night.”
“Bring her with you,” Dallas insisted. “I’ll invite Kim. It’ll be a double-date.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Can’t really do that, partner. It’s sort of our one-month anniversary. She’s made plans for us.”
“One month. Wow.” Dallas shook his head. “I’m surprised you’ve let it go on this long. The regular season’s starting soon…”
“You know, I’ve been thinkin’,” I said. “The whole no-dating-during-the-season policy? I might put an end to that.”
Dallas blinked in surprise. “Really?”
“You broke the policy, and now look at you. You’re playing great and happier than ever.”
“I am,” he admitted with a smile. “So you think you can be that happy with her?”
“We’ll see,” was all I said. “Maybe we’ll hit up that new bar tomorrow.”
Dallas and I shared a brief bro-hug, then he went to the locker room. The cheerleading tryouts looked like they were done, so I headed in that direction.
I didn’t know the answer to Dallas’s question. I liked my girlfriend. We were comfortable together. Yet I couldn’t get a sense of whether or not this had long-term potential. When did someone really know that, anyway?
But for now, I was enjoying it. On a superficial level, she was smoking hot. You had to be when you were the head of an NFL cheerleading team.
Isabella was talking to one of the other cheerleaders, a tall redhead. I very carefully kept my eyes on Isabella. She had a jealous streak. I wasn’t the kind of guy to go sniffing around other women, but if I so much as said hello to an attractive woman, she would hold a grudge for days. Didn’t want to start our one-month anniversary that way.
“Howdy, sweetness,” I said to Isabella. “Y’all almost done here?”
“Almost. We have about ten minutes left to go over uniforms and the schedule.”
The other girl was gawking at me. I was used to that. Especially around cheerleaders who had never seen a football player up close and personal. Hell, if I ever met a celebrity like Jennifer Aniston, I’d probably gawk too.
I ignored it for a few seconds, but then something about her tickled a memory. One which I had tried my best to forget about.
This wasn’t just some random girl, I realized. She was dressed totally different than the last time I saw her, with her hair in a ponytail rather than down, and tight-fitting cheer clothes rather than the more formal attire of a college professor. But it was her.
It was the girl who gave me a fake number.
“T-Foxy?” I blurted out.
Her mouth hung open. “Brody?”