Chapter 16 Chelsea #3
“Personalized playbook?” he echoes enthusiastically before palming his forehead. “Oh my God, Chelsea! I’m gonna be unstoppable, thanks to you!”
“Don’t get too excited yet. When I’m done with it, it’ll be your secret weapon. But for now, we’re just getting started.”
After taking a deep, cleansing breath meant to get my mind off the physical pull I’m feeling to Luca, I pull up the document and tilt my laptop screen toward him, and he looks at the document like a kid on Christmas.
As Luca gives me his undivided attention, I excitedly walk him through what I’ve got so far for him, and Luca repeatedly whistles softly and says stuff like, “Damn, Chelsea Parker. You’re a genius.”
“It’s not nearly done yet, but this gives you an idea of what can happen when football knowledge meets high-level analytics.”
He looks up from my screen, beaming at me like a floodlight. “I bet you could single-handedly get a team into the playoffs within three years if you did something like this for every player.”
I snicker. “You’ve just described my dream job.
I want to become the first female head of analytics for an NFL team.
Besides wanting to do stuff like this for players, I also want to perform analyses on the operations side, too.
You know, stuff that would impact scouting, recruitment, and overall business decisions and strategies, too. ”
Luca excitedly motions to my screen. “Show this shit to Bellamy! Do that, and I know for a fact he’ll immediately hire you to do all of that.”
I shake my head woefully. “Actually, no, he won’t. Bellamy’s not a fan of analytics, unfortunately.”
Luca looks floored. “How is that possible?”
I explain the situation, and Luca expresses solidarity with me, along with deep disappointment that the general manager is such a “clueless dinosaur.”
“It’s okay,” I say on a sigh. “The top teams in the league have analytics departments nowadays, so all I have to do is get some official NFL experience on my résumé while I’m here, and then I’ll be able to leverage that into getting a better job with another team that might eventually let me do what I do best.”
All of a sudden, Luca looks deeply disappointed again. Even more so than earlier when I told him why I’m not in the market for a boyfriend. “So, you’re saying you’re not planning to stick around here with the Mastodons for very long?”
I shake my head. “I adore my father, and I’m having a blast working with him.
But next season, I’m hoping to be working somewhere else—with a team that won’t view me simply as Coach Parker’s nepo-baby daughter.
” My heart is lodged in my throat. My chest is tight.
“I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from on that better than anyone, right? ”
Luca’s shoulders slump. But to his credit, he nods slowly and murmurs, “Yeah, no, I do. I totally get it.”
I lay my hand on Luca’s on the desk as a show of solidarity and comfort but then quickly pull back when I feel veritable sparks emanating from our simple touch.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper, trying my best to sound casual.
Like I’m not feeling the urge to throw my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight.
“I promise I’m not going anywhere till I’ve done everything in my power to get you onto that active roster.
My plan has always been to find a new team in the offseason. ”
Luca flexes his hand, letting me know he felt those insane sparks, too. “I’m surprised you don’t want to be Coach Martinez somewhere else. Or even your father. You’re an incredible coach, Chelsea. The sky’s the limit for you.”
“Thank you. I do love coaching, but it’s not where I want to end up in life.
That’s why I want to work so badly for a new team.
I worry if I stay here too long, I’ll naturally start rising up the coaching ranks, and that will only make it harder and harder to get where I really want to go.
That’s the path of least resistance, you know?
But I don’t want that. I want to be the captain of my own ship, even if it ultimately sinks. ”
Luca’s dark eyes blaze as he blurts, “Roman finagled a spot for me at the Thunderbolts.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “But I decided to stay here, even if I go down with the ship, for that exact same reason.”
Luca looks so vulnerable and beautiful in this moment in the dim light of the quiet classroom, I’d grab his face and kiss him if we were anywhere else. In an ice cream parlor, for instance.
Shit. I don’t know what my face is doing right now, but whatever it is, it’s making Luca slowly lean in with his lips slightly parted, like he’s going to kiss me and do it well.
Fuck! “Security cameras,” I gasp out, leaning back sharply. “There are cameras in the classrooms, remember?”
Luca jerks back and clears his throat loudly, looking flushed and flustered. But apparently, his tongue is too tied—or his dick too hard—to speak. Probably both.
“You don’t want to be late for curfew,” I manage to choke out, feeling a bit flushed and flustered myself. “We’d better get you back to the hotel.”