Playing to Win
Page 17

Shit. He tried, but he couldn’t go back to sleep, so he got up, took a shower, and fixed himself eggs and bacon for breakfast, then headed to the practice facility to do a workout before drills.
The offense was there, including his competition—Jamarcus, Lon, and the new kid, Kenny Lawton, a hotshot rookie out of Texas who’d been covered nonstop by the media. According to the press, the kid was a future star wide receiver. He’d run a 4:32 in the forty-yard dash at camp before the draft, and everyone wanted him. The Traders were lucky to pick him up.
And now Cole, at twenty-nine years old, was going to have to compete with a twenty-one-year-old who was younger and faster.
Even worse, the kid was polite as hell with no obvious skeletons in his closet.
Cole had a lot to prove. So maybe it was a good idea to have Savannah on board.
He nodded to the other guys as he moved from the workout room outside to the practice field and started doing warm-ups. Bill, the athletic trainer, came out to work with the players. Since Jamarcus and Lon were returning veterans to the team, Bill got them set up on some reps, then came over to work with Cole.
“Let’s see what you’ve got today,” Bill said, putting Cole through warm-ups, then conditioning drills to test his endurance and skill set.
After an hour, Cole was dripping with sweat, his breath sawing in and out from running one end of the field to the other.
And Cole thought Mario was the devil? Bill was a tough trainer.
He didn’t know when Savannah had shown up. Dressed casually today in capri pants, tennis shoes, and a short-sleeved top with her hair in a ponytail, she was on the sidelines in conversation with Coach Tallarino. Coach had his clipboard and whistle and, despite needing to run his team, he was having an intense conversation with Savannah. Occasionally, he’d look over at Cole and nod while she talked.
“That your girlfriend talking to Coach?” Jamarcus pulled up next to him.
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Who is she?” Lon asked, stopping short after a long run.
“She’s my…assistant.”
“Yeah? They let your assistant come on the field during practice? And, dude, that’s one hell of a good-looking assistant. How come she gets to talk to Coach?”
“They know each other.”
“How do they know each other?”
He was digging the hole deeper and deeper with every lie. “I don’t know. By marriage or somebody’s cousin or something. I didn’t get the details. I just know she knows his family or something.”
“Huh.” Jamarcus studied her. “She’s talking to him for a long time. They must be close.”
“Who’s the pretty girl?” Kenny asked, not even winded from his drills.
Bastard.
“Riley’s assistant,” Lon said.
“No kidding. Someday maybe I’ll be important enough to have an assistant. Hope she’s as good-looking as yours, Riley.”
Kenny ran off to do more drills. Before he got himself into even more trouble, Cole headed toward the sidelines.
“I was just talking to Savannah. She said the two of you have already gotten started,” Coach said.
“We have.”
“Good. I have high expectations of you this year, Riley. Don’t f**k this up.”
“I don’t intend to, Coach.”
Coach wandered off, leaving him with Savannah.
“Looks like you were playing nice with your teammates this morning.”
“They asked about you.”
“Did they? And what did you tell them?”
“That you were my assistant.”
She arched a brow. “Really. Would you like me to fetch you a drink to really sell it?”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
She went over to the table where cups were set up. “I insist.”
She handed him a drink. “I’d hate anyone to find out my real job here. I know how that worries you, so I’ll stay stealthy for you.”
He rolled his eyes at her, but took the cup from her hand and downed it in two swallows. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
She lifted her warm gaze to his.
“So what were you talking with Coach about?” he asked.
“The team in general. His plans for the season.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he shared all that with you.”
“You might be surprised what he shares with me.”
He wanted to ask her what they’d talked about in reference to him, but he wouldn’t. “I need to get back to work.”
“Go ahead. Play nice with the other kids.”
He headed back onto the field. He worked with the other receivers on the designated plays he’d learned, watching the other guys at wide receiver to size up his competition.
Kenny was good, but he was green. He was fast, but he had a lot to learn. He wasn’t going to be competition for a year or two yet. Jamarcus and Lon, however, were seasoned, fit well with the team. Blockers respected them, they were in sync with Grant Cassidy, the quarterback, and their timing was good.
They were going to be his fiercest competitors. He’d have to watch out for those two, make sure he could beat them so he’d end up the number one receiver on the team.
When it was time for the tight ends to do their drills, he headed over to the sidelines to get another drink while Jamarcus and Lon huddled up with Kenny.
“You keep yourself separate from your teammates.”
He downed one drink, reached for another, then turned to Savannah. “Huh?”
“Look on the field. The other wide receivers are together and talking. You’re over here.”
“I was thirsty.”
“You need to hang out with them.”
“No. Why should I?”
She sighed. “Because you’re part of a team. That’s what you do. When practice is over you rehash with the other players in your position.”
He shrugged. “That’s not how I do it.”
She took his arm and led him away from the other guys. “Maybe not in the past, but it’s how you need to do it now. Part of your image needs to be that of a team player. We alter your image—the one everyone’s had negative issues with—by showing you’ve changed since coming to the Traders, that you’re more willing to play ball, so to speak.”
“I’m not going to change who I am, Peaches.”
“That’s exactly what you’re going to do. That’s why Elizabeth and the Traders brought me in. To change who you are, at least on the outside. Who you are in here”—she laid her hand on his chest—“that doesn’t change.”
Tension coiled up inside him. “I don’t see any reason why I have to be friendly with those guys. They’re my competition. We’re all after the same thing—the ball. Playing nice with them doesn’t gain me anything.”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “You need to become friendly with everyone on this team. From the quarterback to the offensive line to every player on the defense and special teams, you’re all after the same thing—that big trophy on the last game of the season and a Super Bowl ring on your finger. The only way to get those is to work as a cohesive unit. The way you’ve gone about it in the past is all wrong. You on one side and everyone else on the other is only going to guarantee two things. One, you don’t get the ball in your hands as much as you want, and two, the potential for your team to lose is greater because of inner turmoil. Is that what you want?”
“No.”
“Then at least give it a try. Be nice. Talk them up.”
He glared down at her. “About what?”
“Oh. My. God. You have no idea how to go about doing this, do you?”
“I’m not a moron.”
“I didn’t say you were. But you’ve never gotten close to anyone on any team you’ve ever played for. Start with the new kid—Kenny Lawton.”
“What about him?”
“He needs guidance. He’s the one out in the cold and craves leadership. Who better to offer it than you, a veteran in the game and in his position? Do you really want him bonding with the other two receivers and leaving you the one out in the cold?”
“You make me sound like an old man.”
“And you need to quit taking everything so personally. You’re not going to play football forever. No player does. Part of your responsibility to the game is to bring up the younger players—to pass the torch and make sure they’re ready to play as good or better than you did.”
“Kind of defeats the purpose of me being the best on this team.”
“You know as well as I do it’ll be years before he’s as good as you are. That doesn’t mean you can’t show him the ropes. Don’t you remember what it was like your first year?”
She had a point. It sucked being brand-new. His first year in professional football had been awful. He didn’t know anybody and he’d felt left out of everything. He’d barely been able to find his ass with both hands. If not for the guys who’d taken pity on him and showed him the way, he’d have been lost. He still remembered those guys today.
“Fine.”
“And while you’re at it, try to be nice to Jamarcus and Lon. You’re all after the same thing and there’s a lot of intel you can share with each other. Like it or not, they’re the veterans on this team. They can help you.”
Who made her an expert on football all of a sudden?
He went back out on the field and joined the other receivers.
“Giving her some instruction?” Lon asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“She’s competent. Knows a lot about football. She’s an asset to have around.”
“She does have a nice ass, that’s for sure,” Lon said, nudging Jamarcus.
Cole’s blood boiled. He was two seconds away from shoving his fist in Lon’s face. But he glanced over at Savannah, who frowned and shook her head, so he stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. But he still wasn’t going to let Lon insult Savannah. He got in Lon’s face. “Look. I like you. I think you’re one of the better wide receivers in the game. I’m new to this team and I’m trying to make a go of it, so for that reason alone I’m giving you a pass. But understand this: You make another personal remark about Savannah and I’ll lay you flat. You got me?”
Lon raised his hands. “No harm, man. I got you. Sorry. I didn’t know your relationship with her was like that.”
“It’s not like that at all. She’s a nice woman and she’s out here doing her job. You don’t need to ogle her and you don’t need to talk shit about her. Just keep your mind on your business.”
“Okay. I’m sorry again. Really.”
He could tell Lon was sincere this time. Now he had all this anger and no way to vent. Normally, he’d have had a fight by now, or he’d go walk off and do something to get rid of the tension. But heeding Savannah’s advice, he nodded. “Fine. Let’s go see if Bill can run some drills with us. Kenny and I could use some help getting the layout.”
“Okay. Sure.” Lon grabbed his helmet and he and Jamarcus walked off.
“Kenny,” Cole said.
“Yeah?”
“You’re a little slow on your timing. You need to push off harder and watch your left. Safety’s getting to you every time on the double six play.”
He could see the lightbulb go off in the kid’s eyes. Kenny gave him a tentative smile. “I didn’t see that. Thanks. I’ll work on it.”
Okay, so maybe that hadn’t been as bad as he thought it might be.
Jury was still out on how friendly he’d allow himself to be with these guys.
But Savannah might have had a point. There was no sense in making enemies when it was to his advantage to make friends.
At least on the surface.
ROUND ONE DOWN. SAVANNAH BREATHED A SIGH OF relief.
She knew working with Cole was going to be tough. He wasn’t a marshmallow, and he wouldn’t take all her suggestions as easily as he’d taken this one. But the offensive line was running plays, Cole was getting the ball, and even the other receivers were blocking for him.
So far, that meant he hadn’t pissed off anyone. Not bad for day one. Maybe if she stuck close to him she could avoid a disaster. The coach still had reservations about Cole, despite her reassurances that she had it all under control. She’d told him Cole had changed, and it wouldn’t be long before he had an image as shiny as a bright new diamond.
Coach seemed dubious about that, and he told her actions spoke louder than promises.
Savannah never failed. If she had to move in with Cole and watch him like a first-time mother hovering over her newborn, that’s what she’d do. Her reputation was on the line.
Which meant instead of leaving during his practice, she decided to stay for the day. She pulled up a chair near the coaches and watched Cole practice.
Not a hardship, really. Tight pants, great ass, and a lot of sweat. There was no doubt he worked hard, and even though he was the oldest wide receiver on the team, if she could convince him to keep his head in the game, he could be the best. His reflexes were quick, he was in excellent health. He’d suffered no injuries during his career. Just watching his calves work made her mouth water. It was obvious his legs were still in prime shape.
So were his hands. He seemed to have an instinct about the ball, as if they were of the same mind. Wherever it was thrown, there he was. He had a light touch and he never dropped it. When he took off into a sprint, even the young defensive players had a difficult time keeping up with him as he dashed toward the end zone.