“The Blue Angels just flew over the stadium,” Dylan said with a snicker, referring to the elite Navy flying squad. “We’re all temporarily deaf, dickhead.”
Levi laughed and felt better as his jangling nerves settled into a manageable hum. He was anxious to get on the field and into a real game. You’d think that after waiting a decade, a few more minutes wouldn’t matter. If only every second didn’t feel like an hour.
“You’re ready,” Gaige told Levi, handing him his helmet. “I’d tell you not to overthink everything, but I’ll save my breath. Get through the first quarter. Stay on your feet—as much as possible. Don’t be afraid to throw away the ball if you get into trouble. Trust your teammates. And most of all?”
“Yes,” Levi asked, desperate for every kernel of Gaige’s wisdom. “Most of all?”
“Have fun. Football is only a game.”
Levi blinked, knocked his hand against his temple, and frowned.
“I can’t believe you just said that.” Levi looked at Dylan. “I misheard, right? The legendary Gaige Benson? Spouting clichéd crap right before I go on the field?”
“Definitely a head-scratcher,” Dylan agreed.
“Yeah. Kind of surprised myself. Age must be catching up with me.” Shaking his head, Gaige walked toward the far sideline. Without turning, he called out, “Win one for the Gipper.”
“The Gipper?” Dylan snorted. “How old is Gaige?”
“Ancient,” Levi said, then sighed. “Trouble is, though he’s no longer a spring chicken, he could still beat the shit out of us—with one hand tied behind his back.”
“True,” Dylan agreed.
Finally, after the National Anthem and a few pre-game festivities, Levi and the rest of the Knights took the field. His mouth was dry, and his hands felt five times too big. Calling the play, he took the snap from center and almost fumbled. Instead, he threw a pass so far off the mark, it sailed far wide, hitting the team’s mascot—right in the gut.
“Nice shot,” Dylan said, patting Levi on the back. “Next time aim for the head. More dramatic on the year-end blooper reels.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” Levi muttered. He grinned and instantly felt better.
After the first play, the rest of the quarter flew by in a haze. The second quarter was the same. Unfortunately, Levi remembered every detail, in vivid color.
Levi’s numbers were bad—sewage level atrocious. His QB rating barely registered in the double digits and the percentage of throws completed to missed was too embarrassing to contemplate.
If the sign of a good athlete is a short memory, Levi prayed for freaking amnesia.
“You want to prove all the naysayers right?” Mac asked as they waited for the second half to begin. “If not, pull your head out of your ass, Reynolds. You’re a quarterback—at least I think you are. Start acting like one.”
Levi nodded. Later, he would thank his head coach for the tough talk. Mac knew his players, understood what each one needed. Some he sweet-talked. Others, he played big brother. What worked with his starting QB was a swift and painful kick in the butt. With a little sugar to help the medicine go down.
“The good news is, you’ve held onto the ball. No fumbles, no interceptions. Forget the score. With three quarters left to play, we can make up a touchdown with no problem.” Mac met Levi’s gaze, his expression blank. “If you fail, I look bad. Understand?”
“Yes, Coach.” Levi nodded. “I won’t let you down.”
“More important,” Mac said. “Don’t let yourself down. Make the most of your chance, Levi. The secret is to synchronize your mind with your body. You have excellent instincts. Let them guide you.”
The Knights’ head coach nodded once and left to consult with his offensive coordinator.
“Mac is only four years older than we are,” Levi said to Dylan as the halftime clock ticked toward zero.
“True.” Dylan smiled. “Yet, he’s so wise.”
“Exactly.” Levi slipped on his helmet. “He had me. Right there in the palm of his hand. I almost called him Yoda.”
“Damn, I love a Star Wars reference. Gets me all fired up.” Dylan punched Levi in the arm. “You ready to show those jerks on the other team what a real quarterback looks like?”
Levi wasn’t sure he could call his performance epic. He didn’t magically turn back the clock in the last thirty minutes of the game and become the player he was in college. But he did help his team win.
The final score was Seattle 19, Miami 16.
Levi wasn’t ready to brag—if anything, he felt humbled. And grateful. The defense kept the score close and by the end of the game, he found a good, steady rhythm.
“Victory is sweet.” Dylan sighed as they walked from the locker room. “And you made a pretty picture during your post-game press conference. The suit and tie were very GQ.”
“To quote Billy Crystal, it’s better to look good than to feel good.” Levi chuckled. “My stomach was in knots.”
“Didn’t show.” Dylan reached for the door leading to the player’s parking lot. “You want to grab a drink?”
Levi’s promise to buy his offensive line dinner was still on. They had plans to meet after practice on Wednesday. Their choice. Right now, the consensus seemed to be a famous—and expensive—steak house overlooking Puget Sound. Didn’t matter where. He was happy to pay.
“A drink sounds good.” Levi nodded. Rounding the corner, he stopped in his tracks. “Whoa.”
A group of giggling, screaming women rushed toward them. Some wore heels and miniskirts. Others, jeans and sweatshirts. Whether dolled up or dressed down, they had one thing in common. Their enthusiasm.
“Looks like the ladies of Seattle are out in force,” Dylan laughed, glancing at Levi. “I wonder why?”
Levi had dealt with his share of sports groupies. In his younger days, he’d indulged the fantasy from time to time—his and theirs. Wild and fun, sometimes a little kinky, always satisfying, he realized his hedonistic, bacchanalia days had passed him by.
The only woman Levi wanted now was Piper. One on one. He anticipated some crazy and a lot of wild passion. But the next morning, the next night, the next day, he wouldn’t look for someone new. He’d reach for her again, and again.
Levi and Dylan weaved their way through the traffic jam of females, signing autographs while avoiding the grasping hands as much as possible.
“I don’t know whether to be amused or terrified,” Levi whispered out the side of his mouth.
“Depends on if you’re looking for a good time or the fastest way out of Dodge,” Dylan said in his best western twang.
“What I want is—” Jostled, Dylan’s gaze fell onto his waiting car. His heart skipped a beat. “Piper.”
“Of course, you want Piper.” Dylan rolled his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”