Page 70 of The Run Option

“No.”

He clears his throat, likely gathering what I’m not saying. “Well, I’m calling with good news for you and your outspoken wife.” I sit up taller in anticipation. “The production company in charge of the documentary called and said they fired Nancy. Apparently you weren’t the only player she was pushing too hard. They want to continue filming, but with a producer that better fits their original intentions. I told them I would talk to you before committing to anything.”

I glance over at Willow and put the phone on speaker.

“You’re on speaker,” I inform him, then recap what he said to Willow. “Are you comfortable continuing filming?” I ask her.

“It’s about you,” she replies. “I’m okay with whatever you decide.”

“Are you sure?”

She gives me a soft smile. “I’ll support you no matter what.”

Brock groans. “You two could have hung up if you were going to be all lovey-dovey.”

“This is what you get for calling this early,” I say, making Willow laugh.

“Well? Are you in or not?” Brock asks. “It’s more good publicity, but you have plenty between yours and Willow’s social media accounts.”

I rake a hand through my hair, unsure of how to decide. Willow touches my arm.

“It could be a cool way to document our lives right now.” Her smile turns shy. “Something to look back on in the future.”

I nod slowly. A smile spreads across my face at the thought of us older and showing our kids and grandkids this glimpse into the first few months of our marriage.

“I want to do it,” I say.

“Great!” Brock says. “I’ll let them know and send you a new contract to sign digitally.”

“Sounds good.”

“All right, I’ve gotta get going. Too many meetings, not enough time.” I can hear him shuffling things around on his desk in the background.

“Wait,” I say before he can hang up.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, Brock. I know it’s your job, but it still means a lot to me that you went to war for us.”

“I’ll always have your back.”

“Same to you.”

We exchange quick goodbyes, with Willow chiming in, and then he hangs up. I look over at her, relief and joy flooding my veins. Now we don’t have anything up against us. We can justbe.

“Now, where were we?” I ask with a smirk before pulling my wife against me.

“You might have to remind me,” she replies with a sultry smile.

I run out of the tunnel with my teammates to the sound of screaming fans and thumping music. Even though this is an away game, there are plenty of our fans here tonight too. It’s a big game here in Louisiana. And I’m determined more than ever to win. Willow’s parents flew in for the occasion, so I want to make them—and more importantly, her—proud.

“This place is insane!” Jamal yells, waving to some fans sitting behind our bench. I turn and wave with him, increasing the cheers–as well as the boos–from the crowd.

We go through all of the pregame theatrics and I’m bouncing on my toes by the time we kick off. We’re on defense first, so I won’t be able to get my energy out for a minute. I watch intently, trying to pick up on every little detail to use against them. The defense gets a turnover, and I run out onto the field, strapping on my helmet as I go.

Within two plays, we score. The crowd goes wild and I can’t stop grinning around my mouthpiece. This is why I love football. The energy is unmatched. We maintain that energy throughout the game. It’s closing in on halftime and I’m chugging Gatorade beside Jamal, watching as the defense attempts to keep them from getting so much as a field goal.

Jamal hits my arm and indicates the jumbotron. “Looks like you’ve got quite the crowd tonight.”

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