Page 65 of The Surprise Play (Nolan U Football #3)

WILY

Something has shifted between Satch and me. Our relationship has been evolving ever since our first tutoring session, but spending the weekend with her, hours of talking and being with each other… It’s changed something between us.

She ended up telling me everything that happened to her in high school. It was brutal, but I clenched my jaw, and I didn’t say a fucking word. I kept my anger in check while she softly shared how horrible it all was.

I made love to her after that—slow and easy, reminding her how amazing she is and how much I love her. How much my friends already care about her.

She’s gonna find a home here at Football Frat. For the first time in her life, she’s gonna belong.

She belongs with me, so it’s inevitable, right?

This girl’s the one.

I can feel it in my bones.

And if we can somehow survive whatever is coming with my future career and living apart until she graduates, then I honestly think we can make it.

Which means I have to tell my parents about her.

The thought is like a rock in my stomach.

You’d think they’d be open to me falling in love. They’re happily married (I think), so why wouldn’t they be all over me finding a girl?

But I just know the second I drop that news, they’re gonna start stressing.

“She’ll distract you.”

“You have to focus on football right now.”

“Great, now he’s not going to want to leave her.”

“This is a disaster.”

“We told you not to get serious with anyone.”

“You don’t have space in your life for love right now.”

Their voices bombard me as I head to football training, and I just know that I can’t breathe a word about Satch until after the Scouting Combine.

If I kick ass there—and I will—then I can prove to them that having a girlfriend and handling football is completely doable.

They’ll have no argument because I will have already shown them it’s possible.

That way I can protect Satch. The last thing she needs is to take on any animosity from my parents and their warped view on how I should be living my life.

I guess I used to agree with them.

Until I met her.

And now it’s all different.

Because she’s different.

My lips twitch as I relive moments from our weekend. She’s so sexy and beautiful. Most of Saturday, she was naked in my bed, and damn if I couldn’t get used to a lifetime of that.

I love her giggle. I love that I can make her laugh.

The way she looks at me.

Her sweet voice.

The expression on her face when I’m talking to her.

She sees me, and I fucking love it.

And she wants me to follow my dreams. I know me leaving Nolan is going to be hard on her, but she’s still telling me that she’ll be cheering me on at the Scouting Combine.

She made me promise to send her updates when I have a chance.

She wants to support me on this, and I know she and Sienna were texting this morning about throwing a massive draft party for us in April.

I can’t help a grin as I take the spot next to Zander’s SUV in the stadium parking lot.

Satch is amazing.

She’s fucking amazing.

I chuckle, shouldering the door open and picturing her in her room. She said she’s got an assignment looming and is going to spend the afternoon working on it so we can have dinner together later.

I’ve been really good and left her alone like she asked me to.

I spent the morning texting her and making sure she was avoiding Team Evil 2.0, but she got through the day without seeing them, and now that I know she’s tucked safely away in her room, I can breathe easy.

I tried to convince her to press charges—property damage or some shit. They scratched her, so that’s physical abuse, right? Surely the police will pay attention to that .

But she doesn’t want to.

She just wants to keep her head down and forget it happened.

I’m gonna have to keep working on her, because fuck, what am I going to do when I leave and I’m not here to keep her safe anymore?

Maybe I can convince her to transfer to a college in whatever city I end up playing in.

Would she go for it?

That’s not asking too much, is it?

I just can’t stand the thought of her being here without me nearby. I want to protect her from any more bullies. Sure, Grady and Carson will be around to keep an eye on her, but is that gonna be enough? I can’t expect them to play bodyguard every day.

Shit. I really need to come up with a plan around this thing.

“Wywee!” A sweet voice grabs my attention, and I turn to see Zoey running toward me. She’s carrying a football, her little legs eating up the space between us.

“Hey, Cowgirl.” I crouch low, capturing her in my arms and standing tall. “How was your weekend?”

“Fun! Fissing!”

“You went fishing?”

She nods. “Ganpa show me.”

“Wow, that is awesome. Did you catch anything?”

She nods again, her smile priceless as she holds her arms out wide, dropping the football in the process.

“You caught a fish that big?”

“Uh-huh.” Her big eyes are so convinced while her father strolls up behind her, shaking his head and winking at me .

I grin. “That’s impressive, kid.” I give her stomach a light poke.

She giggles, slapping a hand over her cute little belly. She’s wearing her “I’m a princess. Deal with it” sweater today. It’s bright pink with sparkly writing, and it fits her perfectly.

Crouching down, I pop her on her feet and grab the football. “Are you sticking around for practice today?”

“Sienna’s got her here just while everyone gets ready.” Zander brushes his hands through Zoey’s curls. “Couldn’t go another hour without seeing my lil’ love bug.”

Zoey grins up at her father like he’s the sun in her universe.

Scooping her up, he gives her a raspberry, and I walk away from the squeals echoing down the tunnel.

“See you guys in a minute.” Shaking out my leg, I pick up my pace and head to the locker room, changing fast enough to beat half the guys still in there and running out to the grass.

Zoey is giggling, running away from Carson and Tyrell, who are chasing her. She’s got the ball in her hand and is screaming, “Daddy!” with this huge grin on her face.

“Throw the ball, Zo!” Zander holds up his hands, and she chucks it at him. He gathers it up off the grass, dodging right when Tyrell comes in with a tackle and jumping around Carson.

Zoey cheers and starts running for her father again.

He slows his pace, backing up a step when she starts to fall. Snatching the back of her coat, he holds her like a briefcase and starts running down the field. She’s laughing and squealing, then stretches her arms wide and enjoys the flight.

Sienna’s on the sidelines, chatting with Grady. Her smile is broad as she watches her man and daughter, having fun together.

Even Grady’s lips are twitching.

Poor guy still seems to be walking around with a cloud over his head, but this past week he’s been a little less glum, so that’s something. It takes time to recover from heartbreak, I guess. I think I’d be pretty damn shattered if Satch broke up with me, that’s for sure.

Tightening up my laces, I then jog into the action, helping Zander out and making Zoey giggle some more. But the shenanigans don’t last long. Coach Jones is soon blowing his whistle and getting us into a warm-up drill.

“I’ll see you after practice.” Zander passes Zoey back to Sienna, kissing his woman before pecking Zoey’s cheek.

“Bye, Daddeeeeeee!”

“Love you, lil’ bug.” He blows her a kiss, then shares an affectionate smile with Sienna before running to catch up with the drill.

I watch Sienna walk away and nearly fall on my face when an image hits me hard. I see it so clearly—Satch on the sidelines, rounding up our brood of children. There are four, maybe even five, and they’ve come down to watch Daddy play.

She’ll have a baby on her hip and be smiling as the older children race around with me; then she’ll gather them up and find a perch in the stands.

Catching my balance, I keep running, touching the ground, then spinning back to do the next length .

I see them in the stands, cheering me on. The older kids will be doing their homework while they wait for me. The two youngest will be on Satch’s knee, and she’ll be reading them a story, glancing up to watch me, sending me smiles and blowing kisses.

Holy shit, I want that.

I mean, I always knew I wanted a big family, and I’ve imagined myself being a dad, but I could never picture how that could happen and who it might happen with. But I can see it now.

It’s crystal clear.

And I really need to tell my parents that I’ve found the one.

After the Scouting Combine. That makes the most sense.

I nod, settling on that decision and forcing future Mrs. Wilson and our brood out of my mind so I can focus on practice.

Coach pulls us in, giving us a pep talk about how the team can help any of the players who declared their intention to enter the draft best prepare for next week. He talks through some of the drills Zander, a few other players, and I will be doing at the Scouting Combine, and we run those first.

It’s fun and busy—there’s an awesome energy buzzing through the team.

Practice goes by in a rush, and when Coach Perkins suggests that we finish with a friendly game, everyone’s on board.

“Only if you play too!” Zander goads the coaches into joining in, and soon everyone is on the field, scrapping for the ball and having a blast .

Shouts and laughter ring across the stadium, and it’s fucking epic.

It takes me back to my childhood when football was just the game. We lived for this shit, and I’d play any chance I got, because this is what I love so much. The game without all the pressure of the crowds and the media. Just a bunch of friends having fun playing the best sport in the world.

Changing up positions, we all take turns doing something a little different, and I set for the play, pushing Fleischer out of the way and spinning to chase after the ball.

It pings off my fingers, and I scramble after it. Aware of the player coming at me on my right, I pivot to my left, go for a quick dodge… and my knee twists as I hit the ground.

Pop!

“Ah! Fuck!” I land with a thud, reaching for my knee as a pain like nothing I’ve ever experienced takes me out.

The agony is blinding, and I roll onto my back, swearing up a storm as players race toward me.

“Wily.” Carson drops to one knee beside me.

Grady takes the other side, resting his hand on my stomach. “Where does it hurt, man?”

“My knee.” I choke out the words, writhing at the searing burn shooting through me when I try to move it. “Shit! Ahhh!”

“Out of the way!” a voice directs from behind Carson, and I open my eyes in time to see the head trainer crouching down for a look. “Your knee?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Grady answers for me when all I can do is cover my face with my arm and whimper .

“I heard a pop,” Carson tells him.

“Okay.” The trainer’s tone is gravely serious, and it only amplifies my terror.

Shit. My knee. I’ve just fucked up my knee.

Shit, shit, shit!

“How’s it looking?” Coach Jones says from somewhere above me.

There’s a pregnant pause, and I hold my breath, willing the guy to say I’m being a baby and it’s really not so bad. But the pain ricocheting through me at his lightest touch is like a warning alarm.

It’s blaring so loud and deafening that I almost don’t hear his prognosis.

“I think it might be an ACL tear.”

“Oh fuck,” Grady whispers just as the words register in my brain.

An ACL tear.

And there goes my world. My fucking life.