Page 12 of Gridlocked on the Gridiron

“Got a hot date?”

“Colton.”

“Lucia.” Something dangerous flickered in his eyes before he stepped back, giving her a little more room to breathe. “I’m surprised you don’t have the schedule. We have clinics with local kids with cancer once a month. I was out in the stadium with them, and we try not to put time restrictions on it when possible.”

Her knees almost gave out at the confession, but she braced herself against the wall. Now she was the asshole. Colton didn’t even look smug. He just turned on his heel and walked to her office.

Lucia took a second to collect herself, brushing out her skirt before following him. He was already sitting in the chair she’d pulled beside hers, gazing out over the practice fields.

“I’m sorry. Look, neither of us wants to do this, but both of our jobs rely on us being here. We should try to communicate better.”

“I’ll be better about letting you know if I’m going to be late. But just so we’re clear, that doesn’t mean I don’t still think you’re working with the Vipers.”

She sat in her chair, moving it away from Colton so she could think better. “You’re welcome to your paranoia. I don’t care what you think.”

Thirty minutes later, after getting through less than half of the film from the game, Colton slammed his fist onto the desk. “You know I watch film all the time? I don’t need you going through every minuscule aspect of my game in film. My dad already does that every day, and then I have to endure it with the whole team throughout the week.”

“Colton, what do you think I’m here to do? Did you think I was gonna tell you how well you’re playing? Coddle you into getting your shit together? Tell you ‘Good luck on the season’ and be on my merry way?” When he didn’t respond, she continued, “No! That’s not why they brought me in. They hired me to help you because you’re a world-famous quarterback having a bad preseason, and we need to figure out how to get you back.”

“Actually, they brought you in because your boss asked them if they needed an analyst.”

Lucia sighed. “If you don’t want my help, just leave. I’m not dealing with your shit today.”

He didn’t try to hide the surprise on his face, just stood and walked out. She knew he was angry—whether from a shitty game, talking to his father, having to work with her, or all three—and nothing she said right now was going to get through to him anyway. They had two weeks until the regular season started. She would find a way to show him she was there to help.

With Colton gone, she pulled up film from the previous season, scooting her chair forward and searching for anything she was missing. Hours rolled by with nothing. The sun began to set, and she placed her head in her hands, angry. His questions echoed in her head.

“You have plans you’re missing out on? Got a hot date?”

So smug. Like he couldn’t imagine her having anything better to do than meet with him. She despised him.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. The call with his dad seemed to have made him even less amenable than usual, and she wondered how many times he’d had that same conversation. She’d noticed in film that he’d seemed brighter in past years, smiling more on the sidelines when it was the defense’s turn on the field. She wasn’t sure whether those smiles were correlated with winning or if there was more to it.

Maybe he needed to find a way to enjoy the game again.

Chapter six

Colton

Colton’s muscles ached as he lay on the turf of the practice field. Most of the team was heading to the showers, but Colton had a session with Lucia before the season opener. He actually felt that they were making progress. Not that he’d ever tell her that.

Colton was not proud of the way he’d acted with Lucia after the last preseason game. He’d made an effort to be on time for their meetings over the next week, and to her credit, she’d begun to implement productive ways to help him that weren’t just picking apart film. Namely, practice drills.

When Colton turned his head to the left, he was met with the tallest, most ridiculous pair of heels he’d ever seen. Lucia peered down at him, and with the glow of the floodlights behind her like a halo, she looked like an angel. His eyes traveled over her legs briefly, marveling at how long they were.

When he met her eyes, she raised an eyebrow.

“What do you want, Moretti?” He let out a groan as he turned his head to look back up at the night sky.

“Why are you so sore?”

“I’ve been going to the gym before and after practice this week to get ready for the game.”

“Who told you to do that? You need to rest. Causing extra strain on your muscles isn’t a good idea so close to the season. You’re on a plan for a reason.”

“And yet here you are, about to ask me to do extra drills.”

Lucia sighed. After a moment, something thudded next to his head. “Put that on. We’ll keep it light today, but I need to get some metrics to keep your tracking consistent.”

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