Page 45 of Home Town Advantage (Fourth Quarter Fever #1)

TWENTY-ONE

TWO MONTHS LATER

VANCE

D aylen announces to the entire weight room, “If you’re doing it doggie style, you only have to last four minutes. It’s twenty-eight minutes in dog years.”

I let out a laugh at my ridiculous friend before one of the guys asks him, “What position makes the ugliest babies?”

He immediately responds, “Ask your mom,” leaving the whole weight room in a fit of laughter.

It’s been a fun few months. With both Sulley and me in our off-seasons, we’ve gotten to spend a lot of time together.

It’s always in the privacy of one of our houses, but at least I get to be with her, and I can’t stop thinking about my girl.

I wish I could come up with a way for her to agree to be with me for real. Forever .

Summer is upon us, and her new season kicks off with their home opener tomorrow night. A bunch of us are going. The Cougars have a day game, and the Anacondas haven’t started their season yet, so they’ll all be there too.

I can’t wait to watch the girls play again. They’ve been working their asses off to get ready. Hours and hours of practice time is their daily norm. They’re committed to making a run this year.

I place the heavily weighted bar into the appropriate slots and sit up in time to hear Presley ask, “In Shrek , how does a donkey have sex with a dragon and then impregnate her? It’s a plot hole.”

Our weight room discussions are truly one of a kind.

Beau shakes his head. “That’s not a plot hole. Donkeys don’t talk either. And there are no ogres in real life except Humblecut.”

Daylen gives him the finger. Beau smiles and continues, “Plot holes are more along the lines of production or writing fuckups. I don’t think that’s a fuckup.”

I nod in agreement. “Agreed. Shrek is a fantasy-type movie. Donkeys and dragons having sex are part of the script, not a mistake. There’s a big plot hole in the movie The Hangover . Vegas is the most security-conscious place on the planet, right?”

Presley nods. “Right.”

“There are cameras everywhere. Security personnel are always walking around checking on things. So how can a guy be stuck on the roof of one of the biggest hotels in Vegas for days without cameras or security finding him?”

Daylen gasps. “Oh my god. You’re right. It’s like in Karate Kid .

Crane kicks are illegal, as are shots to the head.

Daniel should have been disqualified in the championship fight.

Johnny was the real winner. That’s why they had to come back thirty-five years later and give him his own show.

” Daylen is obsessed with the television show, Cobra Kai , the recent Karate Kid spinoff.

Beau nods enthusiastically. “Yes. Those are real plot holes. You all want to know the biggest plot hole in both cinematic and literary history?”

Every single person stops what they’re doing to listen intently. Beau Fudd is always full of useful information.

“In Cinderella , everything the fairy godmother turned into magic for the ball was supposed to disappear at midnight. So why didn’t the glass slipper disappear too?”

You could hear a pin drop in this weight room right now. There are over forty giant football players, and every single one of them stands or sits silently in shock at this revelation.

Beau smirks. “And while we’re at it, are you going to tell me that not one other woman in the entire village wore the same size shoe as Cinderella?” He tsks. “Plot hole.”

Coach walks in and stops short. “Why the hell is it so quiet in here? Are you ladies trading recipes again?”

Daylen crosses his arms. “One, that was a sexist comment. You can’t say shit like that anymore, Coach. Two, I just found out that my whole childhood has been a lie. The prince never should have been able to find Cinderella.”

Coach rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Get back to working out. This is the fucking weirdest team ever.”

Once everyone gets back on track after the Cinderella catastrophe, Coach walks over to me. “Hey. Were you able to grab an extra ticket for the game tomorrow?”

Shit. I forgot he had asked. “It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll text you later tonight when my contact is home from work.”

“Okay, but just know I’m at the age where if you text me after 10:01 PM, it’s most likely that I’ll get back to you at around 5:47 AM.”

I chuckle. “5:47 works for me, Coach.”

He nods. “Good. And we’re on for dinner tonight?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fantastic.”

I see Reece Sanders talking to our new rookie wide receiver, Anthony Lincoln. Everyone calls him Linc. He’s a good kid. He keeps his head down and works hard. He’s still a little wet behind the ears, but I see a lot of potential and a bright future for him.

Coach points in their direction. “Linc is an up-and-comer.”

I nod. “Agreed.”

Staring at Reece, he says “Keep that fucking wolf from getting his claws into him. Rookies are impressionable. We can only roster one of them. Sanders is undoubtedly aware of that. That’s the kind of guy who will sabotage another for his own benefit.”

“I’m on it, Coach.”

I walk over to them. “Linc, you were looking strong yesterday. I’m in the market for a new wide receiver.” I look at Reece. “One with good hands. You didn’t drop a single pass yesterday.”

Linc’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir.”

I chuckle. “Vance or McCaffrey will be fine.”

He smiles shyly. “Sorry. You’re such a legend in this sport. It’s an honor to catch the ball from a future Hall of Famer. I hope to contribute to this team in any small way that I can.”

I grab his hand and bring him in for a bro hug. “I like your attitude.”

After our workout, we have a team practice. Our team is looking strong. Linc is solid. He has more speed and way better hands than Reece. I’ll finally have another option for the long ball besides Daylen. I have a lot of hope for this season.

After we shower, I hit the team kitchen to grab a few energy bars. I see a line of guys in front of Beau, who’s working the blender. I ask Daylen, “What’s going on?”

“Beau is making those boner shakes. Everyone wants to try it.” He hands me a glass with a white liquid substance in it. “Here, I got you one.”

He downs his glass in one giant gulp. “Hmm. Not bad. The vanilla makes it sweet.” He smirks. “That’s what she said.”

I roll my eyes as I down my shake.

An hour later, I’m sitting at Del Frisco’s Steakhouse waiting for Coach. I scroll through Instagram on my phone while I wait. I despise all social media, but I set up the Instagram account years ago to keep an eye on Sulley and Maddie.

I smile as I look at Sulley’s last post from Vegas two months ago. It’s our whole big group. We had such a good time. I’ve never seen her so uninhibited and carefree.

I then scroll down to Maddie’s most recent post, which looks like it was from today. It’s a picture of Francesca on an ATV. What the fuck is Maddie thinking?

I pull up my text string with Maddie.

Me: She’s not really driving an ATV, is she?

Maddie: She loves it.

Me: She’s five. It’s too dangerous.

Maddie: Curtis bought it for her. She’s been using it all week without any problems. Leave the parenting to her actual parents.

How fucking generous of Curtis to buy that for her with my money.

Me: I don’t want her riding that death trap. They flip easily. I’ve seen it happen too many times to count. She’s way too young for something like this.

Maddie: I don’t care what you want. Stop barking orders at me. You don’t get to tell me what to do.

Infuriating bitch .

“Here’s your son, Mr. Jeffries,” says the hostess as she smiles and shows Coach to the table.

He narrows his eyes at her and grits out, “Do I really look old enough to be his damn father?”

The hostess withers under his glare and apologizes profusely before quickly running away.

I suppose we look like we could be related, both with dark hair and green eyes. His gray makes him look more mature, but he’s in fantastic shape. He doesn’t look old enough to be my father. Maybe an older brother.

I let out a laugh as he takes his seat. “Hey, Daddy.” I motion toward the wine list. “I left the wine list for you. I know what a snob you are.”

He reaches into his blazer pocket for his reading glasses and places them on his face before opening the wine list and carefully examining it. “Hmm,” is all he has to say. Sometimes he’s a man of few words.

Coach is obsessed with good wine. It’s common for him to take twenty minutes to pick a bottle, especially at a fancy restaurant.

I’m used to it. While I wait, I want to take out my phone so I can fucking yell and scream at Maddie, but there’s nothing Coach hates more than someone who uses a cell phone at the dinner table.

I’ll get a long speech from him about Gen X telephone usage and how dinnertime used to be dinnertime, not a time to be on your phone.

It’s not worth the hassle just to tell Maddie off, especially since she won’t listen to what I have to say. She never does.

For kindergarten, I wanted Francesca to go to a private school. Few kids from the public school go on to college, and I want more for her. Maddie said Francesca preferred to be with her friends. She’s fucking five. Why does she have a vote?

Coach finally orders from the sommelier, who returns with the bottle quickly. Coach seems satisfied when it arrives, and, admittedly, it tastes really good. I don’t know much about wine, I’ve always been fine with the nine-dollar variety, but I can tell this is the good stuff.

Once I have his full attention, I ask, “How’s post-divorce life treating you, Coach?”