Fourth Down (Portland Pioneers 1)

“You date because no one wants to put up with your ass after a week,” Alex says to Chase. “What dating app are you currently using to troll for women?”

Chase throws his napkin at Alex. Chase is constantly on the hunt for someone who doesn’t know who he is. Usually, he finds someone, but once he tells them, they accuse him of lying. It’s an endless battle for him. There are times when I feel sorry for him, but he brings a lot of drama to himself. We’ve told him time and time again there is nothing wrong with dating someone who knows you’re a professional football player.

“I’ve decided to give up on dating during the season. I’m in bed by nine most nights, and these women I met want to text until midnight, and I’m not up for that.”

“Make sense,” Noah says. “A lot of people don’t understand the schedule we keep during the season, and according to some fans, we need more practice.”

The three of us laugh. If we listened to half the stuff we saw on social media, we’d either be out of a job or the best team ever to grace a football field.

“Look, I can’t give you any advice,” I say, “because I’m dealing with my own drama. All I can say is, don’t wait. If Maggie is who you want to be with, then show her. Dragging your feet digs you a hole, and some holes are too deep to get out of.” With that said, I pick up my fork and start eating. The others follow, and the conversation changes from relationships to sports. Chase is excited for the upcoming college basketball season, while Noah says he’s heard scuttle that Portland is looking at adding a Major League Baseball team. This sparks a more in-depth conversation on whether the owners would build a stadium or see about piggybacking with ours, much like the Oakland A’s and Raiders used to do. Regardless, adding more revenue to the city is always a good thing, and making Portland a professional sports hotspot would put Oregon truly on the map as a place to be.

After breakfast, we head into our team meeting. Noah and I sit down next to each other, and I study him for a bit while he looks at his wife. Her cheeks blush when they make eye contact, and it makes me realize this is the type of reaction I want from Autumn when I look at her. It also makes me wonder what the hell she’s thinking or what he did to cause her response. Damn, to have a love like theirs would be a blessing.

Every so often, during the meeting, I catch Noah and Peyton staring at each other. It’s like they’re carrying on a secret conversation with their eyes. Something tells me if I tried this with Elena, she’d get extremely irritated with me, and if I tried it with Autumn, confusion would set in. It’s a hard slap in the face when you realize you don’t know either of the women in your life, past and present. If I’m going to make things with Autumn work, I need to be better at communicating. And I need to convince Noah to write a book for us clueless guys.

I’m beat when I get home from practice, and thankful the house is quiet. Elena moved into an apartment a few floors down. It’s not what she wants, but I’m honestly tired of being the one who caves to her demands. She walked out and left this life behind. I know I told her I’d give up my apartment to her, but I don’t want to. Elena called me childish, and she’s right, but damn it if I haven’t earned the right to be. I’m not the one who fucked up. She is. However, having her in town gives the kids a chance to spend some time with her, and I think that’s important for them. They’re not staying over but are with her until dinner, and then they’ll be home. The few hours from practice until they come home, is time for me to relax.

I startle awake when the sound of my A.I. alerts me that someone has used my elevator code. As much as I hope it’s Autumn, I know it’s the kids returning from their mom’s. Miss Meghan walks in with her hands full of book bags and art projects. My son is behind her, not carrying a damn thing.

“Why aren’t you carrying your bag?” I ask Reggie.

He shrugs. “Mom says it’s Miss Meghan’s job.”

I look at Meghan and then back at my son. Irritation fills me. “Miss Meghan is responsible for taking care of you and your sister when I’m not around. She’s not your servant. You carry your own things unless she volunteers. Do I make myself clear?” My voice is stern. I give him and Meghan a pointed look.