Fourth Down (Portland Pioneers 1)

“Something to work on in practice,” I say.

“Yes, I already gave my report to Bud,” Peyton shuts the screen off. I’m thankful I don’t have to stare at my errors anymore. “I do have a list of things you did well during the game if you’d like to go over them?”

I shake my head. “We both know the list is short. I had a bad game. I own it.”

“You did some good things,” she says. I think she only tells me this because she spent the past hour or so pointing out all my mistakes. “I understand the personal part of your life getting in your head though. It happens.”

“But it can't continue to happen.”

She shakes her head. “Anything I can help with?”

“Maybe,” I say and then pause, wondering if I should really go where I’m about to go. Peyton stares at me with her eyebrows raised. “What’s the deal with Autumn LaRosa?”

She smiles. “Why? Do you want to be set up?”

I jump back in my chair. “Hell no. I want to know where the hell she came from. I’m not trying to stir up any trouble, but I find it odd that she appears out of nowhere and is suddenly everywhere.”

“Oh,” Peyton says. “Autumn was a sorority sister. We were in the same media program.”

“Yeah, Noah mentioned some of this. I don’t know. There’s something about her that rubs me the wrong way.”

Peyton eyes me warily. “I think you watch too many documentaries on crime or something, Julius. Autumn is probably the most genuine person I know.”

“Don’t you feel she’s attaching herself to you because of who you are? I mean, you’re married to an NFL quarterback, your dad is a famous drummer, and your brother is the lead singer of one of the most popular bands out there right now.”

Peyton sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest. By the look on her face, I know I’ve said something wrong. I’d take it all back, but the truth is, I’m bothered by Autumn, and I can’t figure out why.

“First off, if I thought people were hanging around me because of who I am, who I’m married to, or because of who my family is, I’d be holed up in a dark corner of a room somewhere, afraid to come out. I learned a long time ago to give people a chance to show they’re genuine.

“Second, the only reason Autumn reached out to me is because Aiden suggested it after he told her we were at the same school. She had no idea until another sister of ours told her. I had moved out of the sorority house by the time Autumn moved in. Her being in Portland is pure happenstance and a testament to what she brings to the news.

“Third, I see the way you look at her, Julius. And while I know you’re going through some things with Elena and the separation, maybe you can use the date Autumn won as a new stepping stone into a friendship with her.”

My eyes widen at the mention of the date I have to go on with Autumn. “Speaking of, how do I get out of the date? I tried to pay her off, but she won’t take my money.”

“Pay her off, why?” Peyton asks.

“Because I don’t want to go with her. I literally loathe her.”

Peyton laughs. “Oh, Julius.” She shakes her head. “You have a crush.”

Before I can respond, Peyton stands and goes to her door. She opens it and stands there, waiting for me to leave. When I’m near, I open my mouth, but words fail me. Peyton smiles and tells me to have a great day.

When I open the door to my apartment, everything is quiet and dark. There’s a faint glow coming from the living room, and as I step into the room, I find Miss Meghan and Roxy snuggled on the couch, asleep. I leave them there and use the time to check on Reggie. I knock on his door, and he tells me to come in. My heart seizes for a second when I find him curled up on his bed. Immediately, I’m by his side with my hand on his forehead.

“Are you sick?”

He shakes his head and sniffles.

“What’s going on, bud?”

“I’m mad at Mommy.”

I sigh and lay down next to him. I don’t know if I’m doing this right, the whole parenting thing when it comes to divorce, but I’m trying. “I get that you want to be mad at her.” Hell, I am too.

“She doesn’t love us anymore.”

“No, that’s not true, Reg. She loves you very much.”

“Then why is she with that man?”

“What man?” I ask.

Reggie pulls his phone out from under his pillow. At eight, I believe he is too young to have a phone, but his mother insisted and went behind my back. I have taken the thing and put so many parental controls on it, and still, the wrong shit finds its way onto it. He taps the screen and then flips it around so I can see. There is his mother, in an embrace with her boyfriend.