Don't Promise (Don't 3)

I knew Luke. Yes, he had a rough exterior. But how else was he supposed to act when he had to be the strongest, toughest guy on the field? He was the kind of guy who drank too much. Let off too much steam. But Jake didn’t know there was vulnerability under Luke’s hardened exterior.

He was smart. He was funny.

He was protective. And he brought me back to life.

“Shut up, Jake,” I hissed.

“Don’t cross me, babe.”

I looked out the window. I had to find out what Jake had before he unleashed my past on the world. Because if there was one thing I knew, it was that the secret he had would strip away the fans. It would peel away the accolades. It would steal away the adoration from the press. I’d be left standing alone. Outcast. Shamed. Wrecked.

20

Luke

The sweat dripped from my brow. “Again!” I yelled.

I lined up to take the snap. The ball landed in my hands and I counted back to throw to James. He had run the wrong route again. Damn it. Where was his head today? Up his ass?

“No!” I roared over the practice field. “Do it again.”

Three hours into practice and I refused to let the kid take a shower until he had this right. He had the skills. I had seen them. He was fast. He had the hands. He just needed to take some time to study the playbook.

James ran toward me. He was sweating harder than I was. He gasped, gripping his thighs. “I don’t know if I can keep going. The sun is a bitch today. Can we run it tomorrow? I’ll get it tomorrow. Swear.”

I looked up at the sky as if I hadn’t noticed it before now. “You’re a Warrior.” I smiled. “Warriors play in the Texas heat, son.”

He was the youngest guy out here. He couldn’t be the most out of shape. There were some guys close to thirty not huffing as much as he was. I remembered he wasn’t from the south. He had to get his conditioning under control. Texas was torture, but I wouldn’t live or play anywhere else.

He scowled at me, but took his position behind the line. “On my count,” I ordered. I called for the snap, waiting for him to run the fucking route the way we talked about.

If he wanted to be a blocker the rest of the season I could make that happen. I was feeling unusually generous and less dickish today. I’d give him one more chance.

And then I saw him. Wide open. Ready. He cut left then right, throwing the defender off track. My eyes darted to the opposite side of the field before I hurled the ball forward. It was a perfect spiral. Damn, it hit him square in the chest.

“That’s it.” I jogged toward him. “That’s fucking it.” I laughed.

I slapped the back of his helmet with a few taps when I got to him. “Now we can hit the showers.”

James fell to the ground with a thud. His legs and arms flailing in all directions. “Thank God,” he groaned.

I chuckled. “You said you wanted advice, so here it is. QBs throw to the same guys in the game who can catch during practice. There’s some confidence going into Sunday that he’s going to catch the ball. Get it out here and you get it on Sunday. Understand?”

He rolled to his side, beating the ground with his fist. I knew he was hurting. I had run him hard. His eyes were closed. The trainers tried to step in, but I waved them off. Out here was my domain.

“Got it.”

It was the first time I’d actually given him a useful tip. A small glimpse into how I made decisions. I didn’t share often.

I knew I’d throw it to him. If he ran the route like that on Sunday, he would be my first target. I never made promises. The game always changed. Players were injured. Someone always had an unexpected breakout game. The circumstances unfolded like a storm on the field. And I was the one who had to navigate everyone through the lightning and blasting rain. This was my fucking ship.

Today’s grind felt good. Working my body to the point of exhaustion was something I was built for. And I realized how different it was showing up to practice sober. I had more speed. My engines fired with precision.

I walked off the field toward the locker rooms.

The trainer was waiting next to the tub. “I have everything ready for you, Canton. Just like you like it.”

The cold water filled the tub. I could almost feel the water on my skin now. I threw my gear in the equipment bin and plunged one leg and then another into the water. Robbie tipped the bucket and a fresh avalanche of ice floated on top of the water.