Page 25

Chapter 25

Andy

All in all, I’d say this was going fairly well.

I’m seated at a patio table in Harlow’s backyard, and Kevin is doing his best to jump up into my lap—to no avail. I give him a little nudge back to the ground each and every time, not really wanting his tongue on my face.

Not that I don’t love dogs, just not in my lap at the dinner table, eh?

Big Steve? Has not stopped staring at me in awe. The small man is not at all what I was expecting when Harlow described him in New York.

He reminds me of a cartoon character with those big glasses.

Steve has a raspy, booming voice.

He’s dramatic in all the ways one can be dramatic and all the ways his daughter is not. Then again, maybe that’s why she’s so super chill. I would think being raised by a dude this high energy could occasionally suck the life out of a person.

Did I mention he’s loud?

Big Steve seems to think it’s his purpose in life to entertain, to make me laugh, and to dazzle me with his charm.

“Do you want to see the new trick I taught Kevin?” he booms, taking a little piece of meat and holding it between his forefinger and thumb. “Kevin. Bang, bang.”

Kevin only looks at him, cocking his head, his massive ears twitching.

“Kevin. Bang.” Harlow’s dad looks confused, scratching behind his ear. “He’s supposed to play dead.”

“Have you told him that?”

Harlow is seated next to me while her dad grills up hamburger patties—they have materialized out of thin air, along with some vegetables—for a late lunch.

“Dad, stop trying to get him to play dead,” Harlow warns him for the umpteenth time. “He’s hopeless.”

Her dad turns back to the grill now that the dog has completely let him down.

I give Kevin a quick glance. He’s next to the table, gazing up at me with beady little eyes, his black nose twitching.

Sniffing?

I can tell he’s deciding about whether or not he should attempt another jump up onto my lap, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pants in my direction.

“He likes you,” Harlow’s dad tells me.

I lift the beer Big Steve set down in front of me. “He looks like the kind of dog that takes a fancy to everyone.”

I crack the beer open and take a swig.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Harlow grumbles. “I think he’d follow you anywhere. You’re his new best friend.”

“No loyalty.” I shake my head. “What a shame.”

“Speaking of loyalty, what’s it like having women throw themselves at you?” She leans forward, chin resting in her hand.

I cough, almost choking on the beer halfway down my gullet.

Steve turns, watching me, metal spatula suspended midflip as my face turns red.

“Wow.” She leans back in her chair. “Caught you off guard with that one, hey?”

She did.

But I would expect a woman like Harlow to ask the hard questions, just not with her father as the audience.

“That’s a difficult question to ask,” I tell her honestly. “It’s weird having a bunch of women hit on me, and at the same time, it’s unwelcome.”

I pause to think before continuing.

“It also comes with the territory, and believe it or not, it’s not just women. I get hit on by men too. Not every day—for the most part people are respectful of my space—but every so often you get that one ...” I shrug. “I think times have changed. The world knows which players are single and which ones are in relationships, and I’d say those guys get left alone, ya know?”

Am I oversharing?

“I suppose you can’t help the way people react to you,” she allows.

“No, I can’t help how people react to me. And to be fair, the majority of superfans are men.” I fidget in my chair. “I’ve had a few long-term relationships. That helps.”

Harlow nods slowly.

Real slowly.

“How long was your last relationship?”

I do the mental math. “Eight months maybe? I’ve been single for months.”

Her gaze flickers to her dad.

Back to me.

“What about you?” I counter. Fair is fair, and I want to know.

“Year and a half? Yeah, I think it was a year and a half with Stuart.”

I let out a laugh. “You dated a guy named Stuart ?”

Harlow rolls her eyes. “He didn’t choose his name—don’t be a dick.”

Steve whirls around. “You can’t call Landon Burke a dick!” The man looks absolutely horrified at his daughter’s choice of words. “Thank God I’m here, I can’t leave you here on your own with him. You’ll scare him away!”

“Sir, with all due respect, her sassy attitude is part of the reason I’m here.”

Big Steve grunts, unconvinced, and reluctantly goes back to the grill.

“So. How long have you and Stewy been broken up?”

“I don’t know, seven months? It’s been a while.” She side-eyes me, squinting. “Why do you sound jealous?”

“Pfft. What? Me? Jealous? Please.” I pick an imaginary piece of lint off my hoodie.

I’m not jealous of some nerd named Stuart and never will be.

Stuart, who was with her for a year and a half but probably wore sweater-vests, loafers, and khakis. On the other hand, he did get to fuck her.

On the other hand, his name is Stuart.

“I’ve never been jealous of anyone in my whole goddamn life!” I protest.

If you don’t count Bryan Oostburg, who won the Heisman Trophy right out from under my nose after I was outvoted. I totally should have won. Also jealous of Tony Fields, one of my teammates, who is a triple threat: he bakes, he cooks—and he’s a great fucking lineman.

Damn him for being amazing.

“To be honest I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with you now that I know who you really are,” Harlow says genuinely. “Seriously. What do we do?”

“We could try going out in public? Get a feel for the city, have a bite to eat? Maybe go for pizza? I can stick around and do dinner with you tonight and fly out after my meeting tomorrow?”

“You want to stay with me the rest of the day?”

“Strictly for the food,” I tease.

Harlow grins. “I’ll think about it.”

“What is there to think about?” Big Steve butts in, waving around his spatula as if it were a magic wand that would cause Harlow to give in to every little request I made.

It really is a pain in the ass having him hovering over us.

“No, no. I’ll go back to the house my agent rented.” I grin, laying on the Landon Burke charm. My teeth practically sparkle in her direction.

“You have a rental house?” Her laugh is a nervous one. “That works.”

So she wants me to go back to my rental house?

Uh, excuse me, but I cannot help feeling a tad affronted. I’m pretty much the best catch in the nation! Just ask me! Ask the press!

“What if we went out for a bite to eat and took it from there?”

Harlow looks skeptical. “You want to go out in public and be seen. Then everyone will know where you are.”

“Everyone already knows where he is. The second his plane landed, it was on the news,” her dad chimes in.

“See?” My eyes are twinkling.

“It’ll be good for us to get out. It’ll give you a taste of what it’s like.” I laugh it off as a joke even though it’s not. “New York wasn’t terrible, this won’t be terrible.”

She nods slowly, acquiescing. “All right.” Another nod. “Okay, yes. I’ll go with the flow, and we’ll see how it goes. But no promises—this is a football town.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

She really has no idea who she’s talking to ...

Andy: Bro. I just took Harlow on the most epic date.

Dex: Define “epic”.

Andy: We went to Applebee’s and had a blast.

Dex: You took her to Applebee’s? Stop it.

Andy: Yeah. Is that a problem?

Dex: Dude. Yes it’s a problem. You don’t take a woman there who you want to have sex with—you just don’t.

Andy: Why, I don’t get what the big deal is. They have like 24 wings for 10 bucks. That’s a steal.

Dex: Is that what you ordered?

Andy: No, I got pasta. But still, if I was a wings kind of guy, 10 bucks is a killer deal. Killer .

Dex: I’m judging you so hard right now, I would never take a woman there if I was trying to impress her.

Dex: Are you sure you Both had a blast and it wasn’t a solo situation? I feel like you can be tone-deaf ...

Andy: I mean. I think she had a good time?? Okay I’ll admit she may have been a bit overwhelmed.

Dex: Or maybe she was Under whelmed.

Andy: See that’s the beauty of it. I’m not trying to impress her! She already likes me.

Dex: Clearly you’re not trying to impress her. Dude, I’m so embarrassed for you. Jesus.

Andy: Ha ha

Dex: There is no ha ha. Not joking. It pains me to see how horrible your game off the field is. If the nation knew, they would lose their boners for you.

Andy: The nation can stay out of my business, I’m doing just fine on my own, fuck you very much.

Dex: Look at you being all clever ...

Andy: Listen, man—she likes me for me. It’s fucking awesome. I mean, she was a little salty when she found out but ...

Dex: Wait. So you told her? When? How? Did you tell her you were you, and not an average Joe?

Andy: Eh. More or less. I Showed her, and it went better than I expected.

Dex: What does it mean, you “showed” her? Why don’t I like the sound of that? Now I don’t trust you.

Andy: At least I didn’t turn out to be an unemployed freeloader!

Dex: Is that what she thought you were? A freeloader?

Andy: She hadn’t told me so to my face, but I got the feeling the answer is yes, yes she did. Pretty sure she thought that when I got here, I needed to sleep on her couch and not pay rent and eat all her food.

Dex: Dude. You need to sell this story to the press—they would eat this shit up!

Andy: I’m not selling my own story to the press. I’m not desperate for publicity like some people are.

Dex: Did you just imply that I’m desperate for publicity??

Andy: No. But I know you could use more Positive publicity, lol

Dex: Speaking of which, have you told Trent about your little girlfriend?? He’s going to be interested in what you have going on behind his back.

Andy: First of all, I don’t have to tell him every time I take a dump. Some things are my business. But to answer your question, yes, he knows I’m here in GB—I have a meeting with them tomorrow morning.

Dex: So are you actually considering the Packers seriously or no?

Andy: Don’t know yet. I’ll let you know after the meeting what the vibe here is.

Dex: The Vibe ?

Andy: Yes, the vibe. Don’t knock it.

Dex: Listen to you! You sound like a new man, talking about vibes and juju and dating regular women.

Andy: I should take offense at that, but I’m too fucking happy.

Andy: Hey, have I mentioned Harlow’s weird little dog?

Dex: I don’t want details about the dog. All I’m saying is, don’t be surprised if your Middle Earth adventure ends up a headline story for the next week.

Andy: Too late. Not that I see why anyone would care about my love life—that is not evening newsworthy. SportsCenter, maybe ...

Dex: Says the man whose last girlfriend was a supermodel.

Andy: Don’t remind me.

Dex: Man was she pissed when you broke things off. Talk about bitter.

Andy: She’s in the past now. Harlow is the future.

Dex: Wow. You really are drinking the Kool-Aid ...