Page 22 of The Surprise Play (Nolan U Football #3)

WILY

I haven’t seen Satch since we parted ways this morning. And I can’t stop thinking about her. All day she’s been playing in my mind. That flushed, humiliated look on her face when that bitch was talking to her like that.

Shit, I was so pissed! How dare that girl speak to her that way.

What the fuck was her problem?

Satch is a sweetheart. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, and she definitely didn’t deserve to be made to feel like a hippo.

But then I got her to smile.

Thank fuck for that.

I was desperate to make her feel better before I left her… and I think I did.

She did a pretty decent yell after a shit ton of coaxing, and that surprised smile on her face after those words came out of her was golden.

Shit, I can’t believe that twig made her feel like a whale .

“Hippo,” I snarl under my breath, still riled that someone dared to insult my lifesaver.

And she’s not even that big.

All that bullshit about me straining a muscle?

Satch isn’t heavy!

Sure, she’s not as skinny as that stick figure is, but she definitely wasn’t weighing me down.

If anything, she was really nice to hold.

I like her soft edges. She felt good in my arms, kind of squishy, not all skin and bone like most of the chicks I get with.

It was fun wrapping my arms around her and lifting her off her feet.

I liked the sound of her giggle in my ear.

I loved the look on her face when she finally told me to shut the fuck up.

Turning off the shower, I stand there for a second, watching water slide down the tiles while images from my morning start over on repeat.

From the second I saw her nibbling on that muffin in the coffee shop to that moment she walked away from me, shuffling along the very edge of the sidewalk so she didn’t bump into anybody.

“How many times has she been bullied?” I ask the wall, hot anger firing through me once more.

I don’t have time for shitheads who make other people feel inferior. I may be a dumb prick, but I’ve never been an asshole, and I can’t tolerate the fucking filth that came out of that girl’s mouth this morning.

Damn, Satch was just gonna take it like she believed that shit.

Can’t go letting that stand.

A banging on the door snaps me out of my stupor. “Dinner, dude!” Tyrell shouts. “Hurry it up. ”

I jump out of the shower and quickly towel myself off.

Practice was a light one this afternoon, so I decided to miss the locker room rush and clean up back here.

Zoey specially asked if I could eat dinner with the family tonight, so I’m making an effort.

I think all the guys are. She’s one persuasive toddler.

It doesn’t take me long to get myself dried and dressed, and I’m soon padding down the stairs and catching the two-year-old torpedo who launches herself at me the second I step into the dining room.

“Wywee!”

“Hey, Cowgirl!” I catch her, tossing her int the air with a laugh and loving her squeals.

“Not so high.” Sienna winces, covering her eyes.

Zander laughs, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. “She’s okay, Sparks. Wily will always catch her.”

“Yes, I will.” I pull Zoey close and raspberry her neck.

Giggles fill the room as Tyrell and Grady file into it.

“Okay, that’s enough, you two.” Sienna flicks her fingers, beckoning me to put Zoey in her highchair. I do as I’m told, strapping the little wriggler in before taking a seat at the other end of the table.

“Where Carton? Nyah?”

“Carson and Nylah are out tonight, baby.” Sienna takes Zoey’s hand and gives it a little kiss.

“Date night,” Zander fills in.

“They’ve got some making up to do, I guess.” I grin at my friends, stoked that Carson finally got his shit together and didn’t lose the best thing that’s ever happened to him .

“Me want day.” Zoey touches her chest. “Zoey day nigh’.”

Sienna grins, smoothing her hand over Zoey’s curls before glancing at Zander.

His smile is all mush as he leans around his girlfriend and tells their daughter, “I’ll take you out, Lil’ Bug. Just you and me. We can go on a daddy-daughter date.”

She perks up, grabbing her plastic spoon and announcing, “And me want day Kai too.”

“What?” Zander frowns.

“Zoey day Kai,” she explains like this is so freaking obvious.

She’s become pretty good friends with a few kids in Nolan, and her top favorites are Kai and Dayton. Sienna and Kai’s mom are around the same age, and they’ve been hanging out quite a bit, plus Kai’s dad would bring him around when he was working on the garage renovations.

Sienna starts to grin, sharing a wink across the table with me.

I take the pasta bake from Tyrell and scoop some onto my plate while Zander shakes his head and pops Zoey’s balloon with gusto. “No way, kid. You’re not going out with some boy until you’re at least twenty-five.”

“No, Daddy!” Zoey laughs.

“Yes, little girl.”

She shakes her head, still laughing like he’s crazy. “Zoey day Kai.”

Sienna snorts, then slaps a hand over her mouth and starts giggling as well.

Zander shoots her a side-eye and mutters, “Thanks for the support, Sparks. Now our daughter’s gonna be running around town with some boy who is two years older than her.”

This only makes her laugh harder, and soon I’m snickering, too, though when Zander’s eyes shoot across the table to meet mine, I give him a solemn nod.

There’s no way in hell some guy is touching our Zoey.

Whoever is brave enough to eventually date that girl… yeah, I feel sorry for him already.

There’s not one man in this house who wouldn’t give everything to keep her safe. And even when we all move out and end up wherever we do, that policy will still stand. I’ll fly as many miles as I have to for my little cowgirl. And everybody at this table knows it.

“So, boys, how was practice?” Sienna asks once we’ve all dished out our meals.

Zander launches into a detailed rundown, and I chime in with a few comments, in between pulling faces at Zoey and making her giggle.

Tyrell starts talking strategy with me for the upcoming game, and Grady…

He doesn’t say a damn thing.

I scrape my plate, sharing a look with Zander before stuffing the last of the garlic bread into my mouth. He gives me a subtle headshake, and we both eye our morose friend.

He doesn’t seem to notice, which is so out of character for the guy. He’s sharp as a tack most of the time, but ever since the winter dance, he’s been off.

My guess is that something has gone down with Teah. Have they broken up?

I kind of want to ask, but when Tyrell tried last week, he got a quiet, icy pushback. “None of your fucking business.”

Tyrell and I were both so shocked by his grumpy-ass response that neither of us said anything as he stalked out of the kitchen.

So, yeah. Grady and his girl are over. That’s gotta be it.

I just don’t get why he’s not telling us about it. When things were going great with Teah, you couldn’t shut the guy up. He was so in love with that girl, it’s all he could talk about.

And now they’re just over?

I really want to know what went down between them, but Grady’s obviously still not ready to talk.

Shit. Do we have to give him space?

Can’t we just pin him to the floor and force him to tell us?

I hate secrets. I’m an open book around these guys. They’re my family. We live together. We share shit. It’s what makes us tight.

Can’t believe Grady’s icing us out. It’s so not helping him.

I have one more silent conversation with Zander, asking him if space is really what our buddy needs.

He bulges his eyes at me, and I sit back with a small frown before putting on a bright smile for Zoey, who’s starting to look worried.

With a soft snicker, I touch the side of my mouth and point at Zoey. “You’ve got a little something on your face, kiddo.”

Sienna turns to look at her daughter, then bursts out laughing .

A little something?

Zoey is covered.

That girl has pasta sauce from her chin to her ears. Her cheeks are rosy with it, and the curls around her face have an orange tinge.

Zoey giggles and that sets Zander off, and soon we’re all laughing at our little girl. Even Grady cracks a smile before rising from the table and clearing his plate.

I watch him go, wondering if I should follow him, corner him in the kitchen, and try to get something out of him.

But my phone rings before I can.

Pulling it from my pocket, I check the screen and murmur, “Better take this,” before standing up and putting on my brightest voice. “Hey, Pops. How’s it hanging?”

Dad laughs the way he always does, like I’m his pride and joy. “Hey, son. Have I caught you at a good time?”

“Yeah, just finished dinner.” I wander into the living room and perch my butt against the back of the couch, gazing out the window at the street traffic.

There isn’t much, just a man walking his golden retriever under the streetlights. I watch them amble past as Dad tells me about his plans for the big game ahead.

“The final, Wily. Your mom and I are so proud. We’ve invited your grandparents, and Uncle Tomas and Aunt June will be there too.

The neighbors talked me into giving them four tickets, and they’ll be bringing their kids along, plus your cousins from Arizona are coming over for it.

That leaves two spare seats. Is there anyone else you want me to invite? ”

Satch pops into my head immediately, but I shut that thought down before it can fully form.

I doubt she’d want to come anyway.

And why would I even want her there? She’s my tutor, not…

Your friend?

Why not. You like hanging out with her.

The thought spins through my brain as I try to answer my father. “You’ve saved a seat for Sienna?”

“Yep. Just one, right?”

“Yeah, she’s leaving Zoey with Zander’s sister for the weekend. His parents already have tickets, and I’m pretty sure Nylah’s gonna be sitting with her family.”

“Okay, well, if you think of anyone else, let me know; otherwise, I’ll have no problem giving these away at work. Hank and George have both been breathing down my neck ever since you made the finals.”

I force out a laugh, trying to ignore the pressure that’s making my neck muscles ping tight.

“We’re so excited for this game, son. You’re going to play great, the way you always do, and secure your spot in the NFL.”

“Dad, it doesn’t work like that.”

“Oh, come on. Your performance this season has been stellar. Any pro team will be lucky to have you. Austin says it’s a guarantee. We just want to see you get drafted with the best.”

I nod, wondering where I’ll end up later this year. Which team is gonna secure me? Where will I be living? Who will I be playing for?

“…and after the Scouting Combine, there’s only a couple of months to wait until we’ll finally know. And rest as sured, your mother and I will be throwing the biggest draft party the state of Colorado has ever seen.”

A gruff laugh pops out of me. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Pops.”

“I’m not. You’ve been preparing for this your whole life. Your teddy bear used to be a football.”

I roll my eyes, picturing Blake’s face scrunching in disgust. She is so over that story.

“We knew from the second you wrapped your baby arms around that thing that you were destined for the game. And you’ve proved us right over and over again, son. We’re so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

I tuck my hand under my armpit, staring out at the lamplit street and the house beyond.

It’s lit up on both floors, and I can picture the students inside.

I can’t remember all their names, but I know the guy on the second floor is a total study nerd.

He’ll no doubt be hunched over his laptop stressing about how to perfect whatever assignment he’s working on.

I can’t see his desk from here, but I know he’ll be sitting at it.

For some reason, Satch pops into my head again, and I wonder where she’s sitting right now. She’s probably studying too. Catching up after giving me so much of her time. Damn, I didn’t even think about that until now.

Shit, I hope she didn’t fall too far behind.

She spent hours helping me get that essay right.

I can’t wait to get my grade back. Probably the first time I’ve ever felt that way, but come on, I’m getting graded on work I’m actually proud of.

It’s such a different feeling to everything else I’ve handed in.

Please, God, let it be a good grade. I have no idea why I’m so desperate for something decent. I guess I just want to be rewarded for genuine effort.

“So, you keep working hard, and I will be cheering you on from the stands.” Dad wraps up the call with his usual spiel about being my biggest supporter.

I thank him once again and am almost relieved to say goodbye.

Not sure why.

I usually don’t mind his little pregame pep talks. I’ll get at least two more before I run onto the field, and they usually amp me up.

But not tonight, obviously.

Why?

Is it the Grady thing that’s getting to me?

Or—

My phone buzzes and I glance down, expecting a GIF from my sister or a text from my mother, adding to Dad’s praise-filled phone call.

But it’s neither.

And I’m probably smiling way too big right now, because all I’m being offered is a chance to study.

Tutor Girl: I’m free to help you prepare for your finance assessment next week. But why don’t you get your big game out of the way first? Ping me when you get back to Nolan. Good luck!

I reply with a thumbs-up and a smiley emoji, telling her I’ll be in touch soon.

Part of me wants to keep the conversation going, check to see how she’s doing.

But I doubt she wants to rehash her embarrassment from this morning, so I leave it at that, climbing back up the stairs, kind of mystified by why I’m looking forward to a study session as much as I’m looking forward to the game.