Page 151 of The Americana Playbook

Throw a pick?Can’t happen again.

Win only by a field goal because I lost a drive earlier?Can’t happen again.

“You’re right. Today can’t ever happen again.” I roll my lips together. “What you did to Josh? Threatening to cut him for literally no reason”—I hold up my hand when I see Coach going to talk—“embarrassing him like that on anopenday? That’s what can’t happen again. Especially because those drops were my fault, not his.”

Coach laughs. “So I have even more issues. Add the fact that my seasoned quarterback forgets to dry his hands on a towel that hangs from his goddamn waist to the list.”

“You can’t berate your players the way you did with Josh. Do it with me all you want. I can handle it. That’s because?—”

“Iraisedyou, Fitzy. Taught you all about football, all about toughness and dedication. But apparently I didn’t teach you how to use a dictionary.” Coach pulls one foot off his desk and then the other, sliding his chair forward. “Criticizing someone is hardly berating them. You’ve been spending too much time upstairs with Heath at home with your pretty little wife and not enough time where you belong—with me.”

I take a deep breath. “If this is going to set the tone for the season, you might as well cut us all. I can’t mobilize a team when they don’t have a coach to fight for. They won’t fight for you if you’re like this.”

I try to think back to last season, to the morale of the team, the relationships, the hardness of my guys, especially the ones who had been on the roster the season before which would’ve been Foller’s first year. I remember being surprised by their determination and preparedness. I came from a powerhouse team, but I never felt that same energy the Rebels had. They were determined and ready. They hadgrit. But that weaned off throughout the season. And now I get it. It was belittled out of them.

I have to wonder how they got it in the first place, and how much of it was hardness developed out of fear—fear of getting cut, fear of being embarrassed, fear of their mistakes being used against them over and over again if they stuck around.

“Is that what they’re telling you, Captain? That they’ll abandon ship?”

“They don’t have to.” I toss the plastic bottle of Gatorade back and forth between my hands. My eyes shift to the calendar on Coach’s wall, and I recognize the days he’s circled. “If you want me to sit down for thatBoston Journalprofile the day after our preseason game, you’re going to apologize to Joshandthe entire team.”

I’ve never seen Coach at a loss for words, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

* * *

I bury my head into the pillow. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” Parker mumbles. “Don’t you have someone you can pay to do this? I don’t really know how to give a massage.” She shifts more. “God, are you always this tight?”

Turning my head, I rest my cheek against the pillow. “Not this early on in the season,” I huff out.

Parker stops her assault on my shoulders. “Has he always been that way?”

I lift her body with how heavy a sigh I let out. “I don’t really know.” Slowly I nudge her so she hovers over and I turn, motioning for her to sit and placing my hands on her thighs when she straddles my stomach. “I mean, what happened today… yeah, maybe he has.”

Parker raises an eyebrow. “What about during a game?”

“A game, sure.”

Her brown eyes widen. “What do you mean,sure?”

I run my hands from her knees upward and back down. “I mean, it’sfootball. What do you expect a coach to be? All lovey dovey?”

“No, I guess not lovey dovey,” Parker says. “But not whatever that was either. I mean, it shouldn’t happen to anyone. But to Josh? Come on. He’s like a big kid.”

Nodding, I pull my lip between my teeth.

“What is it?” Parker asks.

“What if I just didn’twantto see it?” I ask. “That side of Foller, I mean.”

Parker sighs. “I didn’t want to believe my parents could do what they did.” She reminds me. “And if I’m being honest, I doubt my blinders were ever as high as yours are.”

“Maybe mine were higher than I thought,” I admit.

“Were? They’re lower after what happened with Josh?”

I look at her. “No. They’re lower because of you.” I sigh, taking her hands. “It was Foller who told me to stay away from you in high school.” Parker freezes in my hold, and I fucking hate it. “I let you think it was my mom, but it was him. He was worried about my future.”

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