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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MYLES

Y esterday, we had a great time with Cooper’s parents and showed them some fun spots around campus. They were so easy to get along with. Since his dad was a coach, he was a natural mentor.

Now, it was Saturday night, and I followed Cooper’s mom and dad down the stairs to our waiting seats in the Mountain America stadium. We sat near the fifty-yard line, only twenty rows from the field. Cooper had scored us some great seats.

We each sat down in our folded chairs with me sitting on the end next to his dad and set our beers in the holders in front of us. The band went crazy in the bleachers, the horn section moving their instruments back and forth, up and down, while the Drumline pounded a powerful rhythm.

I peered at the tall lamps lighting the field, the sky dark and clear behind them.

The football players were on the field warming up, some stretching, some running, while others threw balls around.

Cheerleaders shouted from the sideline, their pom-poms rustling with the strict motions of their arms.

“This is pretty different from a hockey game, isn’t it?” Jim sipped his beer and opened his hot dog, wrapped in a foil bag.

“Well, it’s outside instead of inside. We have our own cheering squad and the band plays. I guess I don’t pay much attention to it, though.” I drank some beer and scanned the players, clad in maroon jerseys and gold pants.

Cooper sprinted down the field, turned and caught a pass.

Warmth spread through my insides. There was my man.

“Oh, that’s nice that the school offers that for the hockey team. I know not all colleges do.” Jim bit into his hot dog.

“This school is huge, so…” I raised my hot dog from my lap and opened the wrapper. Jim had insisted the hot dogs at games were the best, so I had to indulge him and get one. Caroline, however, had snubbed him and gotten a burger. I peeked at her and smiled.

As a cool breeze wafted through the stadium, I zipped my jacket higher. Damn, the nights were getting cold.

“I want to see how well Cooper’s sprinting off the line tonight. It’s always been his weakness.” He drank more beer.

Cooper had a weakness? I bit into my hot dog, the salty meat mixing with the sweetness of the ketchup and relish I’d put in it. Nodding, I said, “These are pretty good.”

“Honey, I’m sure Cooper’s going to do well tonight.” With a grin, Caroline took a bite of her burger.

“Let’s see what this quarterback’s got.” Jim narrowed his eyes at the field. “What’s his name, Casey Carter?”

“Uh, yeah.” I hadn’t spent time with Casey, but he seemed like a good guy. I watched Casey throw a long pass to JJ. The last time I’d seen JJ was in the ER. “You know a lot of these guys are queer, eh.” I bit my lip. Why did I bring that up?

“They are?” Jim shifted in his seat, facing me. “Like who?”

“The quarterback, the wide receiver there, one linebacker…” That’s all I knew, but weren’t there five guys living with JJ? I furrowed my brows. “I think there’s a few more.”

“Wow, I didn’t know.” Jim scanned the field.

“I wonder how many boys I’ve coached who were queer and didn’t tell me.

” He pursed his lips. “It’s a shame.” After drinking some beer, he said, “There has to be a way for me to let them know they’re welcome in my program.

” He set his beer in the holder. “Got any ideas for me?” His gaze swung to mine.

I shrugged. Shit, if only I’d had coaches like him. “Talk to them about acceptance and don’t allow homophobic slurs on the field or in the locker room, eh.”

A smile spread over his lips. “Yeah, like Vince Lombardi.”

Caroline ate the last bite of her burger and smiled at him. “He was a great man. I know he was with Green Bay and being a Bear, you hate that team, but he was a magnificent coach.” She crushed her wrapper into a ball and set it under her seat.

I wasn’t sure what they were discussing, but I’d heard the name. “Who?” I sipped my beer.

“Vince Lombardi coached the Packers in the sixties and was well known for his support of gay players and personnel in the organization. Word was, his brother was gay. He was way ahead of his time.” His gaze crept to the field.

“I’m going to be like him. Hell, everyone deserves respect and to be given the chance to shine.

” He patted my knee. “Things are changing, son.”

My vision blurred. What an incredible man. “Thank you, Coach.” Would he be my father-in-law someday? I could only hope.

Sixty minutes in, ASU, down one touchdown, held possession of the ball. Jim had been ranting about the coaching staff the whole time. The players lined up on the twenty-yard line, crouching for the snap. Casey stepped behind the center for the third down.

With a huff, Jim said, “This is perfect for Cooper. If they don’t run him, I’m going down there and I’ll?—”

“You’ll do no such thing. We’re not in Pop Warner anymore.” With a tut, Caroline slapped his forearm.

Jim grumbled and said, “Watch this, Myles. Cooper’s about to run behind the quarterback.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

After calling to his players, the ball snapped to Casey, and he shuffled backward, holding the ball above his shoulder, readying to throw.

“Wait for it.” Jim ticked his head.

Cooper shot forward and doubled back, dashing behind Casey and snatching the ball from him as Casey dropped his arm.

“Holy shit, go babe!” I jumped from my seat and pumped my fists as the whole stadium stood.

“He’s got it. Look at him go.” Jim barked out a laugh.

Running to the sideline, Cooper ducked into a player, throwing him over his back, and took off like a rocket toward the end zone.

Defensive players raced toward him.

He dashed around them, tucking the ball into his side, twirled, and then jumped over another player who dove for his legs. With a skip, he rolled into the end zone.

The crowd went wild, everyone jumping up and down.

Turning to Jim, I gave him a high-five, and then Caroline.

The jumbotron image cut to Cooper, hugging Casey and JJ. As they parted, Cooper pointed into the camera and mouthed, that’s for you, Myles . He held his fist over his heart.

“Well, I see he’s no longer scoring for his mother.” With a shake of her head, Caroline huffed a laugh.

The next weekend, Cooper was out of town for his game, and I’d played well in the Friday night game. I was still wearing a brace under my gear, but I felt strong and scored a goal on Providence. Of course, our superstition with the vibrating sleeve was still helping.

I walked in my suit through the hallway at Mullett Arena toward the locker room, following Neuman and Pieterick, my nerves on edge. I had to play better than my best tonight.

“You’re meeting the scout from Seattle tonight, right, Cummings?” Neuman glanced at me.

“I am. Coach is supposed to get me when they’re set up.” I scanned Coach’s office as we passed it. It was empty. Were they in the general conference room talking about me? What would Coach tell the scout?

“You played a great game last night. The time off was good for you.” Pieterick patted my back. “Sometimes, resting the body strengthens us.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I sucked in a deep breath. Hopefully, last night wasn’t a fluke.

“Cummings?” Coach Henderson’s voice boomed through the hallway.

With my stomach tying in knots, I swallowed and turned around. “Yeah?”

“Come with me.” A smile broke out on his face, wrinkling his kind eyes.

“Sure.” As I threw a quick glance at Neuman and Pieterick, I said, “See you all later.”

I jogged back the way I’d come and ducked into the conference room.

Across the long table, a man in a black suit worked on his open laptop. His ice-blue gaze flicked to mine when I entered. “Myles Cummings?” He stood and held out his hand. “I’m Brad Lockwood, offensive line scout for the Seattle Kraken.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” I rounded the table and gave his hand a firm shake.

“We’ve got your agent on the phone here, too.” Coach Henderson took a chair opposite the scout while Coach Finley, our offensive line coach, smirked at me while sitting next to Mr. Lockwood.

I dropped in next to Coach Henderson. “So, my knee is even better than it was.” I winced. Way to start it off .

“I noticed in the footage.” Mr. Lockwood typed.

“Since you gave me permission, I reviewed the doctor’s reports.

Your progress is amazing, according to your trainer.

” Mr. Lockwood glanced between my coaches.

“One goal and an assist last night. It’s on par with where you’ve been the rest of the season.

” He typed on his laptop and then his gaze landed on me.

“I know you’re from BC originally.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you like the rain?”

With a smirk tugging my lips, I said, “I don’t mind it. But living in the desert these last few years, I’ve grown pretty fond of rain.” Why wasn’t he asking me about hockey? “Guess you always want what you can’t get a lot of.” Now I was being prophetic?

With a quick laugh, Mr. Lockwood said, “Yeah, I guess so.” He gazed toward the conference phone speaker centered in the room.

“You said he was levelheaded. I see that.” He peered at me.

“You were part of the squad here and I know many of your friends play with the Coyotes.

I want you to know we've implemented a very similar policy for handling queer players in the Seattle organization.”

I nodded. “Oh, that’s uh…good.” Threading my hands on the table, I took in calming breaths.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He studied me.

Why was he asking that? I pursed my lips. Might as well tell them the truth. “I do. He’s a football player here. Cooper Hayes.”

Mr. Lockwood’s brows snapped up and my coaches shifted in their chairs.

“He’s an excellent player in his own right.” Coach Finley eyed me. “He’ll be heading for the draft this year.”