Page 64 of When You Wish Upon a Wideout

Shrugging, Beau moved to the dumbbells. “You said stuff with the GPF is good press. I only want to take a few sick kids to Disney who wouldn’t have the chance to go.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chase narrowed his eyes. “I know you’re more of a silent donor in terms of charities. This kind of high-profile shit isn’t really your thing.”

“I didn’t say I wantpressabout it.”

Chase laughed. “Right. It will totally go unnoticed that the Dallas Sparks’ top wide receiver shut down Disney World”—he paused, holding his hand out—“Nevermind. I came to talk shop. Speaking of Dallas, they’ll take you. One more year. And you’re getting a fair amount, too.”

Beau reached for a dumbbell and clicked his tongue. “Good. One more year on a mediocre team sounds about right for my final bow.”

“But LA will also take you back. They’re drawing up papers.”

His eyes immediately flew to Chase’s. “I told you already, I’m not going to LA.”

“I’ve been on the phone with their head coach and offensive coordinatorallweek. They’rehungry, Beau.”

This past season, the LA Bulls fell in the last round of playoffs, losing their chance to bring a championship parade to southern California. Beau knew from his previous tenure how much that must sting—almost as much as when they lost the Super Bowl the final season he played with them before his motorcycle accident.

“You built that team way back. They’re ready to see things through.”

“You’re not serious.” He placed the weight back on the rack and turned to face Chase.

Chase was leaning against a treadmill. “Serious as cancer.”

Beau frowned.

“It’s one year. And it’s big. If you’re going to go out, go out with averylucrative bang. And maybe a championship ring.”

Greg’s face flashed in Beau’s head. He could picture his brother, forever fifteen, pumping his fist.“This is it,” he would tell Beau. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

“Are you listening?” Chase’s question pulled Beau from his thoughts.

“What?”

Chase groaned. “If this is the end of the road for you and me, let’s make it a fuckinggreatone.”

“I need to think about it.”

If it were possible for Chase’s blue eyes to fly out of his head and smack Beau in the face, they would have.

“You need tothinkabout it?”

Beau shrugged at his agent, who he had signed with before he had even graduated from Florida State. Chase was only two years older than Beau, but what he had lacked in age and experience in sports management back then, he made up in persistence and nagging. And Beau would be lying if he said his career wouldn’t have been as lucrative if Chase wasn’t the one driving it forward.

“How long do I have?” Beau asked.

“Officially, a few weeks. But they’ll be bringing in some young receivers, and you know how they are—hungry. So how about I book you some extra sessions with Charlie, hm?” Chase asked, referring to the agility trainer Beau already met with three times a week. “Let’s keep those feet light. Worst thing, you lose several million dollars and a chance at a Super Bowl if you stay in Dallas. But, hey, at least you’ll be in tip-top shape, right?”

Beau nodded. “I never say no to more workouts.”But I’m damn well saying no to signing with LA.

Moving teams meant he would need to be ready for minicamps, which started in the Spring. But the time Beau needed had to do with Sienna and not the Bulls. They had fallen into a routine—casual day dates that involved hanging out while Grace was in school. Some nights he stayed in Brookwood, in his parents’ empty home, sleeping on his too-small twin bed after hanging around Maloney’s and helping Sienna clean up.

But Beau had too many plans to make up for, and with this contract looming, not enough time.

“I’ll take care of Charlie. Be ready tomorrow morning.” Chase pulled out his phone, typing. “I’ll send you the numbers so you canthinkabout it,” he scoffed before shaking his head, not a strand of his swooped blonde hair moving out of place as he turned to leave.

“Chase?”

Chase turned at the door, looking at Beau, defeated.

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