Chapter 66 Nate
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nate
We flew my mother and coach up in November for the Rookie of the Year announcement.
While I didn’t want to bank too heavily on it, my agent was practically salivating over his potential commission check.
He already planned to use this as leverage to negotiate a long-term contract at the end of my first two years.
I had a few things planned for that bonus myself—all things related to my future with Olivia.
“Are you sure you’d want to stay with the Minutemen? This year was a disaster,” Coach Dobbs asked.
“Yeah. This is my home. The team could have made very different decisions last year. Some of those may have preserved the season, but gone against their core values. I hope I’ll be lucky enough to be here for my entire career.”
Olivia had put together a hell of a party, filled with teammates, coaching staff, and even the team owner and his fiancée, who also came to celebrate.
The house was filled with kids, players, wives, girlfriends—friends. Fuck, life was good. Even if I didn’t win tonight, I’d won in life.
Coach Dobbs had handed me the paperwork to sign; he and my mother had bought me out of her house. When I fought it, they insisted. saying that they didn’t believe children should support parents—and that they didn’t need my help.
I didn’t want to admit it, but their buying me out improved my financial situation and put me in a position to make my girl’s dream come true. With or without the bonus from Rookie of the Year.
I thought back to the first party of the season, at Sam Drummond’s place in the city. That night, I was the kid. And after more than a little bit of hazing, some blood and bruises on the field, these men had become like brothers.
“You nervous?” Olivia tucked herself into my side.
“Not with you here.”
God, the off-season had been fucking bliss. I mean, watching the playoffs from the sidelines sucked, but there hadn’t been a day since late September that I hadn’t woken up next to Olivia.
We all sat on the edge of our seats when the announcement was made. My girl was the first to congratulate me.
“I got my knee pads ready for this one,” she whispered in my ear.
“You know you love it as much as I do.”
“Every fucking second.”