Page 5 of The Surprise Play (Nolan U Football #3)

WILY

I can’t believe Miss High and Mighty won’t help me out.

What the actual fuck is wrong with her?

She’s read Moby Dick , I know she fucking has. I could tell by the flicker in her eyes when I called her on it. But she’s still not willing to help me.

She could probably write this fucking essay in her sleep, but no, she has to assume that I’m some teachable asshole who’s just too lazy to do my own work.

What a bitch!

I huff, feeling kind of bad for thinking that.

I don’t like insulting women. Most of them are everything that’s good about this world.

But then you get the Elizabeth Satchwells.

You mean, the kind of woman who didn’t want to take your money because she genuinely wanted to teach you something?

The kind with integrity?

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, hating my own arguments and wishing I could just stay fucking mad !

This week, I’ve been nothing but a ball of stress, trying and failing to ignore my assignment and just take the F. I don’t know why I can’t just settle on that. It would mean I could flunk out of all my courses this semester, and it wouldn’t even fucking matter!

But something inside me hates that idea.

I’m a winner!

I don’t quit!

And I’m gonna get my fucking degree, even if it is just some meaningless certificate framed on my wall. I’m graduating from Nolan University.

I have no idea why I’m feeling so damn determined about it.

Maybe I just want to prove that Satchwell chick wrong. I’m not a lazy asshole.

Which is why I’m up at the crack of dawn, hunched over my computer and trying to figure out this AI program. We’re not supposed to be using it, but how can teachers really tell, right? I mean, we’d be idiots not to take advantage of this technology.

I type in the assignment brief and pick Moby Dick as my character to analyze. The book’s named after him, so he must be the main character, right?

The program spits an essay back at me. And I have no idea if it’s on the right track. Squinting my eyes at the screen, I read the first few sentences and don’t get what they’re talking about. I didn’t even know there was a whale in this book.

“Fuck.” I rub my eyes.

I should get Grady or Tyrell to look over this for me. They’re the smartest guys in the house .

But I’m too embarrassed to show them.

Besides, Grady’s been off all week. He even skipped the winter dance last night to take Carson’s mom to the airport.

Teah will be so pissed over that one. Anything where she gets to dress up and look pretty is her jam, and he bailed on her?

I haven’t had a chance to find out why yet.

I was too busy making sure Carson got his girl back.

And by the loved-up looks they were giving each other and the groans coming from his bedroom last night, I’d say they’ve worked out their shit.

Rubbing my forehead, I glance at the time on my computer and mutter under my breath. I just want to go back to bed and not give a flying fuck about this damn assignment.

But I can’t give the professor nothing.

I have to at least try, right?

Leaning forward with a whiny groan, I try to read the next paragraph and nearly slump with relief when my phone buzzes and a text from my old man appears on the screen.

Pops: You awake yet? I’d love a chat.

I call him immediately, smiling at the screen when he answers my video chat.

“Hey. You’re up early.”

He grins at me. “I’m about to go for a run. I just wanted to check in first, see how you’re feeling about the upcoming game. ”

“Yeah, good.” I try not to laugh at him. The guy is more obsessed with football than I am. He’s spent his life fueling my passion for it, and he couldn’t be prouder if he tried. His son is going to play for the NFL. It’s all he’s been talking about since my talent started shining in middle school.

I’ve always been big for my age, and Dad steered me in the direction of football before I could even walk. That’s our thing. And his support means the world to me.

Leaning back in my chair, I start up one of my favorite conversations, getting into the nitty-gritty of our play strategy.

I’m not really supposed to talk about it outside of the team, but I trust Pops.

He’d never betray us. He’s passionate about the Nolan U Cougars dominating.

Anything that will help me shine for the scouts.

The amount of time and money my parents have poured into my football career is impressive.

They’ve made my journey as easy as it possibly could be.

And they’ve always believed in my skill on the field.

Dad even hooked me up with an agent. He knew a guy—a friend from college—and they reconnected over my football career and have become best buds again.

They’ve got my career mapped out, and Dad’s there every step of the way, approving and rejecting ideas.

I’m pretty sure Austin is supposed to deal with me directly, and he does sometimes, but I’d honestly rather have Dad take care of that shit.

It’s just easier for Austin to go straight to the one with the strongest opinion.

I’m happy to go with the flow on this thing.

I love people and everything, but social media is a beast I can’t stand.

My agent takes care of my image and sponsorships.

All I have to do is turn up to stuff, sign the odd shirt, and pose for photos.

My parents feed him shots from my football career so far, along with the college’s media department, and all that promo shit gets done for me.

Which means all I have to think about is the game.

Dad and I talk for nearly an hour before Mom reminds him that he’s supposed to be out running and if he doesn’t go now, they’ll be late for brunch with the Clarks.

“Hello, my darling boy.” She tinkles her fingers at me.

I wave back, complimenting her new dress. “Looks gorgeous, Mom.”

“Thank you.” She winks at me, then blows a kiss before patting Dad’s shoulder. “Wrap it up, or we’re gonna be late.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grins and watches Mom clip away, obviously checking out her ass and loving the view. I wait him out, laughing when he finally turns back to acknowledge me. “What? She’s one sexy lady.”

“Okay.” I wince. No one wants to hear that shit about their mother.

His smile grows a little wider. “You have a good day, son. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re going to do great things on that field on Thursday. I’ll be there cheering you on.”

Don’t I know it.

Since their son joined the Nolan U Cougars, my parents have only missed one game, and that was because Mom was rushed to the hospital with appendicitis. Other than that, they’ve been in the stands no matter where I’m playing.

And they won’t fail me this coming Thursday either .

The semifinals. Holy shit!

Are we actually gonna make the finals this year?

That would be fucking epic!

“I’ll catch you later.”

“See ya, Pops.” I wave him off, dropping my phone on the bed and grinning down at the floor.

Damn, I can’t fucking wait!

Gotta get through tomorrow first, man. Hand that assignment in, and then you can breathe again.

“Until my next round of classes start.” I snort, shaking my head and getting off the bed, only to be interrupted by an enthusiastic knock that can belong to one person alone.

“Wywee!” Zoey raps on the door again.

“Hey, Cowgirl.”

“You wake?”

“I surely am, little missy.”

She lets out a squeal and the door punches open, her cute face appearing. She’s all dressed up to go outside in a snow bib, mittens, and a beanie. “Wanna pay?”

Oh man, I want to say yes so badly!

I glance at my laptop, the screen saver image of me grinning at the camera next to the legendary Broncos player Peyton Manning morphing into a shot of Blake and me by the Statue of Liberty.

I really should get back to my assignment, but?—

“Snowman?” Zoey walks into the room, stopping between my legs and resting her tiny hand on my knee.

I glance down at her, fighting a grin. “You wanna build a snowman?”

“Uh-huh!” She nods enthusiastically, totally missing my movie quote. I don’t think she’s seen Frozen yet. Sienna’ s kind of strict on the whole screen time thing, and Zander’s followed her lead. This kid’s allowed like twenty-minute bursts of kiddy games on the iPad, and that’s about it.

Which is why she can be fully dressed in her snow gear and ready to play at stupid o’clock in the morning.

“Less go, Wywee!” She tugs on my hand, and how can I possibly say no to that cute little face?

“Zoey?” Zander calls up the stairs. “You’re not up there, are you?”

She bulges her eyes at me, then calls out, “No?”

“Zo-ey,” Zander growls, and she starts to giggle, crouching into a ball and hiding her head.

My roommate, who now officially lives in the converted garage, is soon standing in my doorway, staring down at his kid with his arms crossed and fighting a grin as he puts on a stern voice. “Zoey Erling-Donohue, you’re not supposed to be up here.”

“Can’t see me,” she whispers.

“I can see you, and I can tell you that you’re breaking the rules. Which means I’m gonna have to take a gem out of your jar.”

Her head pops up with a gasp, her mouth turning into a quick pout.

Zander raises his hands, palms up. “You know the drill, kid.”

She opens her mouth to protest, then quickly closes it with a cute growl, curling her mitten hands into two little fists and thumping onto her butt. Her face is going bright red as she lets out another growl and shakes her fists in the air.

“She did knock.” I go to bat for her .

Zander’s eyebrows rise in approval. “Did she?”

I nod and Zoey joins me, her eyes getting all big and hopeful.

“Well, that is an improvement, but you know you shouldn’t be up here without asking first. This floor is for the Football Frat guys and other adults, not lil love bugs.”

Zoey dips her head, murmuring a soft “I know.”

“Hey.” Zander crouches down, crooking his finger at her. “C’mere.”

She gets to her feet and shuffles across the room, her lips still curled into a sad pout.

Placing his finger under her chin, Zander gently guides her up to face him, and he smiles down at her. “Every choice has a consequence. And you chose wrong this morning, kiddo, which means I have to do something that’s gonna help you learn not to do it again.”

Her face crunches into an adorable frown.

“But… because you were polite enough to knock, I’m still willing to take you outside to play, okay?”

She nods. “’Kay.”

He smiles at her, leaning down to peck her cheek just before she snuggles against him.

And I slap my hands on my knees and stand up. “Well, now I want to play too.” Walking for the closet, I fish out my waterproof coat. “Let’s go build a snowman, Cowgirl. Yeehaw!”

Zoey giggles and pulls away from Zander, jumping and clapping while I gear up. It takes me a minute to find my beanie, but I’m soon traipsing outside with an excited toddler, my assignment shoved to the back of my brain so I can enjoy a little time with the cutest girl on the planet .

Zander and I walk her down the street to the nearby park so we’re not making noise outside the garage. Sienna is enjoying a sleep-in for once, and Zander will do anything not to wake her.

Using the freshly covered field next to the playground—yep, it snowed last night, and Nolan looks magical—we start forming balls that Zoey can use to build her snowman. She runs around us, leaving mini footprints in the snow and directing us with an excited yell: “Bigger, Daddy! Bigger!”

Zander does as he’s told, and I laugh, rolling my snowball toward his.

“See if you can find some branches for arms, Zo-Zo. There’ll be some under the snow.” Zander points to a nearby tree, and I take the chance to form a small ball in my hands and surprise my captain with a missile to his stomach.

He lurches forward with an oof before looking up at me. His lips twitch, his eyes silently challenging me— “You really want to do this?”

I laugh, already forming another ball.

Zander grins and drops to his knees, scraping at the snow. I get him with a ball to the face, letting out another raucous laugh before he launches one right back at me.

Mr. Snowman is soon forgotten as we pelt each other with snowballs, Zoey getting in on the action and becoming her dad’s righthand girl.

It quickly escalates, and I’m forced to take cover behind a tree while Zoey and Zander form their next attack plan.

Sensing their move to the left, I jerk right, slipping over in the snow and landing with a crunch. My knee pings and I grunt, giving it a quick rub before jumping back to my feet and running to make a fresh snowball while getting pelted in the arm by a beautifully aimed attack from the quarterback.