Chapter 5
Fin
Vee was right about the roads. The surfaces were clear and dry. That didn’t mean I regretted driving the two of us to Maker’s Mark. Clark’s message had me on edge. Turning to my right, I took in Vee’s profile.
Our sleep and extracurricular activities allowed us to rest and unwind. However, as she stared out the side window at the snowy January scenery, I saw the tension returning, the tightening of her facial muscles and the way she straightened her spine.
I wanted to reach across the console, but that would take my right hand away from the steering wheel. Instead, I used words. “What are you thinking about?”
She turned toward me, blinking. “I’m thinking about last year and how much has changed.
Last year, the Coopers had a 12–5 season, and we made it to the conference finals.
We played the wild-card round in Denver.
It was snowing.” She shivered. “I was in the warm suite, but the snow was horrible. They had to keep clearing the field so the players could see the yard lines.”
I could visualize exactly what she described. “I remember watching highlights of that game. Honestly, that weather favored the Broncos. No one expected the Coopers to win.”
Her smile was stunning. “My dad was so excited and proud. He was beaming. The next game, divisional round, we hosted. Lexington was electric. The entire city celebrated and the fans were amazing.”
“And you won.”
“We did. Dad was so sure about Troy Dennison. He argued with Uncle Darin and Grant about our offer. Dad stood firm. Even Dad didn’t expect Troy to make such an impact his rookie year.”
“He’s a great kid, talented but not cocky.”
“The conference round we played at New England... that game wasn’t as snowy, but it was frigid cold. There were a lot of dropped balls. New England won. This year, with our 16–1 record, we will be hosting as long as we win. My stadium operations’ mind is in overdrive.”
“How do you plan for two games when you don’t know if the others will happen? They will happen,” I added hastily.
“My team has already sent out emails to our season ticket holders. They can preorder tickets to both games. We only charge for the first game. Once the second game is set, they’re charged, and so on.
For general-public sales, we won’t make those tickets available until the playoff bracket and opponent are confirmed by the NFL.
That won’t be until we know the winners of the wild-card round. ”
“I never really thought about that side of the games.”
“We have a lot of work to do.” Her grin grew. “I owe that to you.”
“My goal is less work,” I said.
“No. I feel the electricity. I can picture Dad’s excitement. We could have easily been 11–6 if you hadn’t played those five games when Troy was out. In the AFC, we might not have even made the wild card.”
“Dennison is still the Coopers’ star.”
“He is,” she agreed. “But our record is due to you. That record is what got us first seed and a bye week.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Coach gave us today off because we didn’t arrive back in Lexington until nearly four in the morning.
This isn’t a bye week. We’ll be working hard.
The Coopers will play the lowest AFC seed in the divisional game.
We won’t know who that opponent is until the wild-card round is complete.
With three wild-card games, it could be one of six teams. Pratt will be studying the different defenses of those six teams. He’s going to drill us over and over on each team.
Then after our opponent is set, we’ll be zeroing in on that team’s defense, and how our offense can prevail. ”
“It sounds like we will all be working hard.”
“The Vikings made the wild-card bracket for the NFC. They’re playing Green Bay in Green Bay.”
“Sounds cold. Honestly, once Rowlings returned, the Vikings did well.”
I nodded. “They finished 12–5. Maybe there could be a Coopers vs Vikings Super Bowl.”
“That would be tough on your parents.”
“If that happens, I’m buying tickets and making them attend. No fifteen-minute delay.”
“They can be my guest in our suite.” Vee shook her head. “No. I’m not thinking that far in the future. One game at a time. Two here. After that we can talk about the Super Bowl.”
The guard at the gate waved me through as we entered Maker’s Mark’s parking lot.
“Most everyone else must still be sleeping,” Vee said, scanning the mostly empty lot.
“Do you want me to drop you off at the door?”
She turned to me and smiled. “I can walk. The cool air is invigorating.”
“Does that mean you’re up for traveling to Green Bay for the Vikings?”
Vee nibbled her lower lip. “If we can get inside seats.”
“I’ll see what strings I can pull.” I pulled the truck into a parking space. “Six years playing for them should get me something.” I leaned across the console. “Kiss me.”
Her lips curled. “Bossy.”
“Kiss me here or I’ll kiss you once we’re inside. The choice is yours.”
Vee brought her nose millimeters from mine. “Fin, I don’t have any say—none—about who is on the IR and who isn’t. I can’t tell the medical staff what to do.”
“You can attest to my superior ability to provide orgasms without my left hand.”
A giggle bubbled from her lips. “I could, but I won’t. The rest of the season is up to the professionals.”
“Kiss me.”
Leaning closer, our lips united.
With my right hand, I cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer as my tongue teased the seam of her lips. A moan filled the cab as our tongues tangoed. When we pulled apart, I ran my thumb over her swollen lips. “I like seeing your lips swollen from my kiss.”
We tilted our foreheads together.
“I really don’t know how late I’ll be working,” Vee said. “When you’re done with Lacy, the medical staff, and trainers, call or come to my office. If I have more to do, you can head home. I can Uber.”
I shook my head. “Ms. Hubbard, you are not taking an Uber. I can keep busy at Maker’s Mark until you’re ready to leave.”
“Stubborn.”
“So I’ve been told…repeatedly.”
Unbuckling her seat belt, Vee reached for her leather bag and opened the door. Our breath came out in small clouds of vapor as we walked toward the entrance. While we entered together, the ladies at the front reception desk didn’t say a word.
Vee and I nodded to one another as she turned toward the executive offices, and I made my way toward the medical facility. The amber carpeting continued as I passed empty meeting rooms, reminding me of Tuesdays when Troy and I would meet for weights.
As I entered the training facility, I found more of my teammates. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with an injury. I waved to Kylon Lewis, one of our wide receivers. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing. I’m just here because I hate sleep.”
A scoff came from my lips. “Yeah, me too.”
“My ankle,” he said. “X-ray says it’s not broken. Next is an ultrasound.” He jutted his chin toward me. “How’s the shoulder?”
“Honestly, it hurt like a motherfucker when it happened. They x-rayed it in Houston. Since they popped it back into place, it’s not that bad.” I tilted my head to the left. “I have to wear this cooling wrap for the next few days. I don’t know how long I’ll have this chic fashion accessory.”
“You make it look good,” Kylon said before asking, “What about playing?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“There you are, Fin,” Lacy Reynolds called from the doorway of one of the evaluation rooms. “Come on back. I heard all about your heroics last night.”
I waved again to Kylon and walked toward Lacy. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, that’s what you always say. Let’s get a better look at that shoulder.” She closed the door.
“You know I’m right-handed, right?”
She opened her laptop. “Here’s the x-ray they took yesterday. The good news is that you had an anterior dislocation.” She pointed at the screen. “You can see the loss of congruency between the humeral head—the ball of your upper arm—and the glenoid—the socket of your shoulder blade.”
“That was before. Now they’re congruent.”
Lacy shook her head. “They are, but I want to get an MRI to better evaluate any possible damage to surrounding ligaments, tendons, or cartilage.”
“You’re the boss.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you in pain?”
“Not really.” I patted my left arm gently. “It’s uncomfortable but not painful. The icing helps.”
“You usually fight me. Why aren’t you?”
I flashed my best smile. “Because I know that dislocating my non-throwing shoulder is kids’ stuff. I can still practice and play. Do your tests and tell the big bosses that I’m playing.” My hope was that my positive attitude would facilitate my desired outcome—being cleared to play.
“The shoulder needs rest. A minimum of a week of immobilization. That’s if we don’t find further damage.”
“Let’s get her done.”