3. Player Positions
Chapter 3
Player Positions
Marcus
I knocked on the wooden double doors and waited for someone to answer.
As I strolled up the curvy driveway, I admired Bryce’s home.
It was a nice, two-story craftsman style house.
The natural stone brick cost them a pretty penny and the arch entrance gave it character.
“Man, what took you so long? Your flight landed two hours ago,” Bryce, my new quarterback, questioned.
“I had to wait until those Need A Ride prices dropped. Them folks were talking crazy,” I said.
“Wait, you’ve been sitting at the airport for two hours because of the Need A Ride prices?” he questioned.
“Yes,” I confirmed with widened eyes.
“Dude, I would’ve come and picked you up. You need some cash? You haven’t signed your contract?” he questioned.
Bryce moved out of the doorway and invited me inside.
“Not yet. Those numbers don’t seem right. Doug Jordan’s low-ball offer stunned me and my agent,” I said.
Bryce rubbed the bottom half of his face as if he had a beard.
“Send it to me and I’ll give it a look. But to clarify, you waited at the airport because you’re cheap?” he questioned.
“I call it conserving money.”
Laughter erupted from his mouth as he held his stomach.
He placed his hand on the back of the brown suede couch and continued to laugh.
“Mannnnn, how are you a millionaire and too cheap to pay for a ride?” he questioned between renewed laughter, and I shrugged.
My grandfather said a patient man was a rich man.
A woman entered the room, and her eyes traveled from me to Bryce.
She lifted her brows at Bryce as he finished off his laughter.
“Mom, this is Marcus, my new number one wide receiver. Marcus, meet my mom, Leona Prescott,” he said.
At 6’5, Bryce hovered over his mother’s petite frame, but they shared the same warm, golden-brown skin tone.
“Hello, Marcus,” she said.
I moved past Bryce and kissed her hand.
“Hello, Mrs. Prescott. Would it be okay if I gave my daughter your phone number for emergencies? She is with my grandmother in Ohio. Just in case she can’t get in touch with me.”
“How old is she?” Mrs.
Prescott questioned.
“Seven. She is well-mannered and will not call your phone unless it’s necessary,” I said.
I tapped my phone, and the screen saver showed Harley smiling with a missing front tooth.
“She is adorable,” she said.
Mrs.
Prescott gave me her phone number as I followed her to my bedroom.
The size of this house was huge.
She explained it had five bedrooms, six bathrooms, and two suites.
Pictures of the family hung on the cream coated walls.
“This is where you will be staying. There is a bathroom two doors down the hall,” she said, standing beside the bedroom door.
Mrs.
Prescott turned to walk away, but I paused her steps.
“Mrs. Prescott, how much money do I need to contribute to the groceries and my stay?” I said.
She gave me a warm smile and gentle eyes.
“Nothing. I’m happy you came. Bryce needs a friend right now more than he is willing to admit.”
I had heard about the bullshit Vick, his number one wide receiver, pulled.
The entire team would’ve had to pull me off his ass for marrying my fiancée under my nose.
I hadn’t met Vick yet, but I already didn’t trust him.
He was grimy for breaking the bro code.
Once minicamp started, I was sure we were going to have a run-in.
“If it becomes too much, let me know and I can cover my grocery bill,” I said, and she giggled.
“My husband and son are football players. I stocked up. Have you seen the size of Roundtree and Brevin? Anything you see in the kitchen, you eat it. If not, I’m going to be offended.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
I watched as Mrs.
Prescott migrated down the hallway before I opened my bedroom door.
The crystal chandelier and crown molding grabbed my attention as the sunlight danced across the room.
From the brown fabric headboard to the layered linen on the bed, everything was well thought-out; I smiled at my new temporary residence.
I tossed my duffle bag on the floor before opening my phone to call Harley’s tablet.
A missing-tooth smile flashed on the screen.
“Daddy!” she said with excitement.
“How is my princess?” I asked.
“I’m okay, but I miss you. When are you coming back?” she asked.
The sadness in her eyes tore at my heart.
I wanted to bring her along with me, but traveling wears my grandmother down.
With the move to Houston upon us, I needed to reserve her strength.
“Soon, baby. Daddy has to work. Remember, I have to earn money to take care of you and Granny. You are my big girl, right? and I need you to watch over Granny.”
“And her bad knee,” she interrupted.
I fought the urge to laugh.
Harley’s been obsessed with Granny’s knee and her cane.
If she caught her walking without it, she brought it to her attention.
The reminders drove my granny insane.
“Yes, but go easy on her. Renee will be over to help Granny and make dinner. And guess what? Your teacher is giving you a goodbye party,” I said.
Harley’s shoulders dropped in defeat because she didn’t want to move to Texas.
Before I left, she asked if I could get traded to a team closer to Ohio.
For someone who made friends with ease, she still worried about not fitting in.
Harley also needed a mother, and it was time I got serious about dating.
“Okaayyy, Daddy,” she said slowly.
“Hey, if you give me a smile and be good for Granny, I’ll buy you a new doll.”
Instantly, her shoulders hiked, and her eyes widened with excitement.
My secret weapon still worked.
Harley’s doll collection needed its own room.
“If I’m extra good, can I get a Fashion Doll?” she questioned.
Never mind that I had bought two dolls for her birthday a few weeks ago.
Those dolls were two hundred dollars and up, but she took care of them.
“Only if you’re a big girl. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Take Granny the tablet and help her out a little,” I said.
From the change in wall color, I knew Harley had already left her bedroom.
“Granny, Daddy is on the tablet,” she said.
Eddy knew nothing about technology.
I chuckled when I could only see Granny’s chin.
Harley pulled the tablet down, and our eyes finally greeted each other.
“You know I can’t stand these things,” she griped.
“I know, but I need to put my eyes on you. I’ll text you and Harley Mrs. Prescott’s number to use for emergencies if you can’t catch me. Renee will be by a few extra days until I get back.”
My granny scoffed.
She hated for other people to take care of her and Harley.
“Me and Harley don’t need no help,” she said, and I shook my head.
“Mrs. Allen, don’t you start. I’ll be there to pick you up in three weeks for our move to Houston. Call me if you need me. Do you know where the emergency cash is?” I questioned.
Eddy closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Yes, I know where the emergency cash is and Harley and I will be fine. You focus on the football game,” she said.
“I love both of you. I will call you tonight. Harley, it’s your turn to add to the story,” I said.
They both expressed their love and hung up.
Bryce and I arrived at the training facility, and I noticed there were rookies, offensive linemen, second year players, and no veterans.
I was taking a risk by practicing off the books without a contract being signed.
Dean emailed with the news last night.
Mr.
Jordan rejected our counter offer.
He would only agree to the original contract.
Bryce whistled, and the team walked toward us.
“Everybody, this is Marcus, my new wide receiver one. Let’s get him up to speed but he is used to the shotgun plays and the West Coast offense.”
The doors of the practice facility moved, and several Hall of Fame players entered, including wide receiver, Jalin Austin.
My heart paused because he was the blueprint.
I studied his film when I needed insight on how to shake a corner.
He was before his time and often not in enough conversations for his greatness.
Bryce Prescott Sr.
was a monster on the field as a left tackle.
Wayne Hill walked in behind them and I exhaled a hard breath.
Quarterbacks still had nightmares about him being on their wide receiver one.
He took away half of the field and interrupted more plays than anyone in the League.
They walked up to the line of scrimmage in practice clothes.
“Meet your coaches,” Bryce Jr.
said, and I side-eyed him.
“I’m going to split everyone up and let’s run a few plays,” he said.
I lined up at the line of scrimmage against the goat Hill, and he snorted.
“I watched your little ass. You’re fast, but I’ll lock you up before you step off the line,” he said.
“Let’s go to Janet’s house. Janet’s house,” Bryce Jr.
said.
Before the huddle break, Bryce gave me two signals: a thigh rub meant go long, and heel lift meant slant.
On the first play, he wanted me to go for it against the best corner in The Football League history.
“Hike!”
Wayne jammed me on the line of scrimmage and pushed my shoulder inside.
We battled as he tried to stay over the top.
As the ball flew my way, he undercut me and caught it.
“I’m punishing you first before I show you how to get better,” he said.
We lined up again at the line of scrimmage.
“Janet’s house, Apple pie at Janet’s house,” Bryce said and lifted his heel, which meant a slant route.
“Hike,” he said.
Once again, Hill was on me as I cut inside.
The ball came at me, but he intercepted the ball.
“Marcus, we gon’ have fun for the next month,” he said, and the vets laughed.
I had never in my life been happy to see a bed.
Hill had torn my ass up the entire practice.
He was on me.
We were damn near chewing the same gum, but I respected it.
With a shutdown corner teaching you how to beat your opponent, the wide receiver two was mine.
If Vick didn’t watch out, I would claim the number one spot.
After taking a shower, I reached for my phone to see a message from Bryce.
Bryce
Rest well.
Uncle Wayne felt you were holding back, and it pissed him off.
Check your email.
Holding back?
Shit, everything on my body hurts.
The way he anticipated my jump step from the line and pushed me off my routes was all study.
Opening my email, I read the message from Bryce.
Your agent is getting over on you.
He is asking for more than the average and he wants a percentage of your brand deals.
Where is your Elite Bowl, yardage and catch incentives?
Dude is a snake.
The items in red are what I would advise.
And Mr.
Jordan is an asshole, but Denise hooked up my deal.
I opened my email and shook my head in satisfaction.
His numbers made sense to me, and he compared it to other rookie deals.
Bryce gained my trust from this move alone.
He could have kept what he knew to himself.
I sent my agent an email firing his ass, added the new numbers and sent it to Denise Jordan.
Mia
“Excuse us,” Stacie said and squinted in our direction.
This was girl code for you showing out and meet me in the bathroom.
I stood from my seat and the men followed our movement with their eyes.
Stacie hooked her arm into mine with a loaded smile.
I sighed, rolled my eyes as we moved through Natasha’s.
After we opened the family bathroom door, Stacie wasted no time laying into me.
“Mia, what the hell? Why are you acting like you don’t want to be here?” she asked.
I placed my hand on my hips and pursed my lips together.
This was supposed to be a friend’s outing, not a double date.
However, I should’ve known something was up when she hinted at me dressing sexy.
Me being na?ve, I didn’t put two and two together and found myself on a date.
“Okay, well, let’s put it out there. I tricked you on this date. I don’t care for mean Mia, I want my nice, funny, caring Mia to show up on this date. Addison is digging you.”
I huffed at her statement.
From the time I sat down at the table, I’d been a bitch.
My answers had been short, and I’d ignored Addison’s flirtatious comments.
The person who should be receiving my wrath was Stacie.
“Addison is nice, but he isn’t it,” I said.
Stacie paced toward the door and returned with flat lips.
“What’s wrong with him?” she questioned.
I raised my hands in the air in a halfhearted protest before I allowed them to fall.
“Nothing. Addison is attractive, a gentleman, and . . . ”
He was handsome to someone who was emotionally available.
Addison stood right at 6’0 with a set of beautiful brown eyes, fair skin, fine wavy hair, and a toned body.
But he was also forty years old, which was a red flag for me.
At twenty-seven, my max age was thirty.
“Rich and he doesn’t have any baggage,” Stacie continued.
Conceding, I blew out a hard breath to release my anger.
I pulled my shoulders back before giving Stacie my attention.
“All right, friend. I see you,” she said and unlocked the door.
You can do this.
Give Addison a chance.
Both men stood and grabbed our seats.
I found my smile as Addison sat next to me.
“Is everything okay?” Rex asked.
“Yes,” Stacie said, as we sat down.
After an awkward silence, Addison said, “Mia, I saw you on USPN a few days ago and you’re a pro. Most podcasters prefer to be behind the scenes. You are magical to me,” he said.
I found my best smile and pulled my shoulder length, straightened hair behind my ear.
“I was raised on the set of USPN,” I replied.
Taking a sip of water, I tried pushing the sensation to flee from this dinner.
“Will you keep this tradition going with your children?” he asked.
My eyes wandered over to Stacie and then back to Addison.
“I have no desire for children,” I lied.
Stacie sucked her teeth.
“Since when? You told the guidance counselor you wanted to be a mother. No one played house with the handsome man more than you. Nathan…I swear, I’m going to kick his ass,” she challenged.
I placed my elbow on the table and dropped my head into my hand.
At twenty-one, having children seemed simple: find the man, get married, and have the baby, but it became complicated.
Growing older, things such as timing, parenting styles, and irregular periods, came into play.
I was introduced to motherhood through cheating, and it damaged my fairytale.
Life could be complex at times and adding children at the wrong time and with the wrong person could be devastating.
“Yes, Addison, her children will be at the studio,” Stacie finished.
Finding her eyes, she squinted in my direction with a tight lip.
“Stacie, a girl can change her mind. Motherhood isn’t always the be all and end all,” I stated.
“I love you, friend, but I hear excuses,” Stacie said.
“Anything but those,” Rex murmured under his breath before he sipped his water.
Stacie gave him the side-eye, and I chuckled.
“How about you let me control my reproductive system?” I said and darted my eyes without moving my head toward Addison.
She glanced at Addison and returned her attention back to me.
“As long as you don’t allow an undiagnosed narcissist to control them. I will stay out of your sex life,” she said.
“Stacie, Nathan isn’t a . . . ”
Both Stacie and I gave Rex our undivided attention, forcing him to stop mid-sentence.
“Rex, you don’t want this battle,” Addison said and sipped his water.
A brief silence covered the space before Stacie and I giggled.