Page 10

The nerves I felt walking into this place are starting to fray, and the air is thick with all sorts of tension.

Thankfully, Coach Elgin kicks off casual conversation about my college years, asking me questions about my preferred style of play, how well I can stick to the pocket, and if I still think I can scramble.

I focus mostly on him, glad that Phillips and Mickey are content to listen rather than ask questions of their own.

By the time our food arrives, I’ve regained some of my confidence, and I might be winning Phillips over a tad too.

“You had some injuries in college, am I right? Didn’t that agent of yours say that’s how you two met? He replaced you?” Mickey’s sudden turn knocks me off balance again, and his handle on my history is obviously thin. I finish chewing my last bite of my filet and clear my throat.

“Not quite,” I start, but before I have a chance to set the record straight, Phillips takes over.

“Yeah, but that’s basically right. We don’t need to know your soap opera story.

We need to know what you can deliver on the field, now.

You follow me? I get that you didn’t miss a lot of time from your injury, but when Bryce Hampton transferred to Arizona, you two split time your senior year.

You know we don’t run two quarterbacks at this level, right?

” His soft chuckle evokes all the swagger of a high school bully, and all I can do is shake once with a hard, disingenuous laugh.

“Yeah, I’m aware,” I say, a clear bite to my tone.

Peyton’s palm flattens on my thigh, and I quickly cover it with my own, drawing in a deep breath through my nose. I’m sure Phillips can see how hot I’m getting. I don’t fucking care.

“I think that’s what sets Wyatt apart from a lot of other players, you know?” my wife says.

“How so?” Jerry encourages, both ignoring the tight smirk spreading on Phillips’s face.

“A lot of players claim to be there for the team, you know, program first. No individuals. Brotherhood, and all that. But when it comes time to sacrifice a little bit of glory for the greater good, how many of them put themselves first? And how many times does it blow up in a team’s face?

” Peyton’s words seem to resonate as nobody responds for a few long seconds, and Coach Elgin simply nods as he wipes his linen napkin over his mouth, then tosses it to the table.

“Maybe,” Mickey finally speaks up.

He saws into the meat on his plate, spearing a bright pink piece of steak with his golden fork. He holds it up as if he were a hunter showing off a trophy, and his gaze squares with mine for the first time since we met. Until now, it’s been short glances through his tinted glasses.

“You know the saying about horses, don’t you?” His head cocks to the side, a tiny smile pulling up one side of his mouth, deepening the wrinkles that line his cheeks.

I shrug, my fingers now intertwined with Peyton’s on my thigh. Both of our hands are hot.

Mickey pops the piece of meat into his mouth and chews a few times.

“They shoot horses, don’t they?” He finishes chewing as a cunning laugh rumbles from deep inside his chest.

I don’t entirely follow, though I’m sure he’s not praising me. Peyton, however, seems to understand exactly what he’s getting at. She unfurls her hand from mine, balling both of hers together on the tabletop as she leans in.

“You’re talking about how horses can no longer race when they’re injured,” she says flatly.

“ Hmm ,” Mickey grunts, popping another bite into his mouth before he pinches his lips into a tight, affirming grin and shrugs a shoulder.

“I’m not sure whether you know this, Mr. Payne, but my family owns a rescue ranch for horses back in Arizona, and some of them were once racehorses.

Just because they were injured doesn’t mean they don’t have purpose.

” Peyton’s not really talking about the horses now.

She’s not even talking about me. She’s standing up for herself, but I’m the only one here who knows that.

“That’s sweet,” Phillips adds, drawing my gaze to him in a flash.

“It’s pretty amazing, actually,” I say, doing little to hide my ire. This guy can dislike me all he wants, but he has no right to be a dick to my wife.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t doubt it. It’s just . . .” He waggles his head.

“What?” I challenge.

He pushes his plate forward, folding his napkin on the table, then folding his hands together on top of it as he leans in and meets my glare.

“You wouldn’t put one of those horses back in the race . . . ever. Which begs the question, would you put the broken guy in as quarterback?”

I hold my tongue between my teeth and guard my smile as I snicker. Leaning back in my seat, I blink my gaze over to Coach Elgin, whose amused expression is a little reassuring. I don’t think he believes a word coming out of this guy’s mouth.

“I dare you to show me a football player in this league, no . . . hell . . . on this planet, who isn’t broken in some way.

This sport, it’s brutal. It’s not for the weak.

And anyone who steps onto your field with the false expectation that they won’t get hammered into the turf from time to time is a fool. ”

I know my volume is up, and I sense the encroaching servers stepping closer to our table as if they might need to taze me or something.

This evening is not bringing out my best side, and I regret that.

But right now, I’m not even sure I want to play for an asshole like Michael “Mickey” Payne.

And I’m not sure I want to let my best friend play for him, either.

“Oh, don’t get your shorts in a wad,” Mickey says before tossing the rest of his second brandy back.

He plunks the snifter down on the table and runs the napkin over his lips before tossing it on top of his plate. He leans back, hands threaded together, and stares at me long and hard. I cross my arms over my chest and give it right back to him.

“I guess we’ll see what you’ve got tomorrow,” he says, his eyes shifting toward Phillips. The two of them share a quick glance, and I straighten my spine, suddenly feeling as though I need to be ready to take a hit twenty-four-seven, and not only on the field.

“Can’t wait,” I respond.

And when Peyton’s nails dig into my thigh, I know she wants me to teach these assholes a lesson tomorrow too. And then, I think, she might just want to murder them.