Page 16 of False Start: Chicago Engines (Gridiron Warriors #3)

Weston

We were getting our asses kicked.

The Dakota Dragons had come to play today.

Their silver and navy jerseys looked extra shiny, their defensive line impenetrable.

But even if they had shown up to our turf in flip flops and half injured, they’d still be ahead.

Our team wasn’t gelling today. Every play felt clunky, and the one field goal we’d attempted had come off Jeffries’s boot wrong and gone wide.

I felt like my mood had infected the team, and the Dragons had never been a team to let their opposition’s weakness slide.

I jogged off the field, passing our defensive line on their way out, and knocked fists with Dawson, our linebacker.

He slapped my back as he continued onto the field, clapping his hands to rally the team.

Don’t do it.

I glanced toward the field level suite where Cami and Marina sat watching us bomb the game.

I could almost feel their disappointment in us from here.

The seat beside Cami was glaringly empty, like it had been the week before, after our return from the disastrous Thanksgiving dinner in Texas.

Despite having replayed the conversation in her parents’ driveway over in my head to the point of insanity, I still couldn’t see how it had all gone wrong.

It was obvious to me that Georgia’s parents were toxic as fuck.

They’d clearly played their daughters against each other for years.

Blair honestly seemed cool, and I’d looked Cian up after I got home and couldn’t get out of my own head.

He was a well-respected player with a reputation of having a cool head on the ice. I could respect that.

It hurt my heart to think that Georgia was so used to being under attack in her own home that everyone had become the enemy.

Apparently, that now included me.

“You’re thinking really hard over there.” Christian moved up the bench toward me and held out a bottle of water. I took a drink and tried to focus on the game, but the weight of his attention dragged me back.

“Can’t help but notice this is the second game Gia has missed. That combined with the black cloud you’ve been sporting tells me something’s up.”

“Shouldn’t you be watching the game?” I asked, tipping my chin toward the field as Dakota made their second down.

“It’s done. We’ll do better next time, but it would help if we knew what was going on with our tight end.”

I winced at the confirmation my miserable attitude was affecting the team.

“Come on, man. Talk to me.”

“She called it off.”

Christian blew out a hard breath and sat back. “Ah, man. That sucks. I’m sorry. What happened? You guys seemed really happy together.”

“We weren’t.”

“Happy?”

“Together.”

“What do you mean?”

Christian had turned his body completely toward me, any attempt at looking like he was monitoring the game gone in light of my reveal. An icy breeze blew through the stadium, and I shivered at the warning of impending snow.

“It was fake. The relationship. A lie that got out of hand, and we just kind of rolled with it until it didn’t work anymore.”

“Bullshit.”

Out on the field, the Dragons got their first down. The clock ticked relentlessly toward the end of the game, and I wondered how quickly I could get out of here. My shoulder twinged in agreement, reminding me I needed to buy a new heat pack on my way home.

“There was nothing fake about the way you two were together.”

Christian was like a dog with a bone when I just wanted to bury the thing. Georgia had left. Same as Harmony. What did he not get about that?

“She was using my name as leverage to get the role on Shifting Sands . Mission accomplished. There’s nothing else to say about it.”

Christian cursed.

“I’m sorry, bro. You’re too good. I really thought she liked you, and I know you liked her.”

I shifted on the bench, worried that it hadn’t come out right. It wasn’t fair to put it all on Georgia.

“It wasn’t like that. We both agreed to it. I think we both just got caught up in the lie for a while. I’m sorry we weren’t honest with you guys, I’ve been feeling shitty about that, too.”

We watched the clock tick away as Dakota set up for their fourth play.

“Did you tell her you wanted it to be real?”

Why wouldn’t he let it drop?

“I told her the opposite. I didn’t want a relationship. After Harmony, I just couldn’t risk losing someone else. That breakup hurt almost more than the injury.”

“And how’d that work out for you?”

It hadn’t. I’d fallen for Georgia just as surely as if we had been real.

The ache in my chest told me I’d fucked up, but I didn’t know how to fix it.

The past two weeks had been an unbearable mix of loneliness and depression.

I’d avoided leaving the house as much as possible because I knew Marina would be lying in wait to make me talk. Instead, she’d sent Christian.

“You’ve been spending too much time with my neighbor,” I muttered.

Christian’s snort was drowned out by the final whistle, and I breathed a sigh of relief that we were almost done for the day. The visiting team went wild for their win, while disappointed Engines fans were more subdued as they filed out of the stadium. Fuck. I hated letting the fans down.

We made our way down to the locker rooms, and I took my time in the shower, setting the water as hot as I could stand to burn away the conversation I’d had with Christian.

The problem was, I knew he was right.

I’d been hiding from my feelings for Georgia for a while, and when she left, it was easier to let her go than take a chance that maybe the reason she left was because she was as scared of wanting more as I was.

I had a support network, but what did she have?

I knew from covert questioning that none of the girls had heard from her in the last two weeks, and it wasn’t like she’d be asking her mom for guidance, so who could she go to?

An idea formed in my mind as I pulled on my street clothes and headed for the door.

“Naylor. You got a minute?” Coach Laudner called from the door to the friends and family room.

“Sure, Coach.” I ignored the way my heart hitched in hope that maybe Georgia was behind the door and pasted on a smile.

“I’d like you to meet Wayne Desmond,” Coach said, indicating a dark-skinned man with shaved head and height and bulk to match my own. Of course, I knew of the man, he’d been one of the greats when I was playing in college, and had established a successful career commentating in recent years.

“It’s good to meet you, sir,” I said, shaking his hand and throwing Coach a curious look. I appreciated the introduction, but wasn’t sure why it was happening.

“You too, son. How’s the shoulder?”

“Good as new,” I lied and followed him over to one of the sofas.

“Good to hear. You must be wondering why I’ve asked to meet with you. I’ll be honest, I’ve been looking into mentorship opportunities, and I recently met someone who put your name forward.”

I glanced at Coach, whose creased brow told me he was as confused as I was.

“I have a daughter,” Wayne said, sitting back and kicking an ankle onto his opposite knee.

“She’s mad for all those daytime TV shows. Anyway, we were touring a set earlier this week and were able to meet some of the cast.”

My stomach started to crawl as I reached a conclusion that sounded insane. Had Georgia advocated for me? Why? How would that conversation have even come about?

“That girlfriend of yours is something else. I don’t even know how we started talking about the mentorship, but before the end of the tour, I’d already agreed to meet with you.

I’ll admit, son. I knew your stats, but it wasn’t until she made the suggestion that I really looked into you.

She was right. You have the experience and the connections in the league to be a great commentator.

I don’t want to jinx your season, but if it’s something you’d consider when you’re looking at the big R, have your people call mine and we can set up another meeting. What do you say?”

I stared at Wayne Desmond like he was speaking a foreign language.

A career shift to commentating had never crossed my mind.

There were only so many positions available, and those who had them rarely left except in instances of retirement or death.

It was a dream position, and the fact that Georgia seemed to be the catalyst made it difficult to compute.

“When did you meet her?”

Maybe this had happened a while ago, and he’d only just been in a position to make the offer. These things would take time to research and confirm I was a good candidate, right?

“Last week. I know it seems sudden, and please know I’m not expecting you to leave the league tomorrow and take up the mic, but I wanted to test the waters off the record before we started writing up contracts.”

Last week.

After Thanksgiving, then.

I needed to see Georgia. Ask her if she was as miserable without me as I was without her, but I stopped. I’d left her alone for two weeks without a word because she’d pushed me away and hurt my feelings. I needed a plan. But first, I needed to get out of here.

“Thank you, sir. I have no intention of retiring before the end of this season, but I’m interested in discussing this further down the line.”

The rest of the discussion was a blur as we exchanged numbers and Wayne wished us well for the rest of the season. I excused myself as soon as I was able and packed up my things, ready to head out and call an emergency meeting of my nearest and dearest.

We had under two weeks until Christmas, and I needed to lift my game and prove to my fake girlfriend that our connection was real.