I stiffly turn and walk down the hall. Zak walks next to me, staring straight ahead, probably wondering if he’s about to walk into another ambush.
We make it to the locker room without any major interruptions. I hold out my hands against the door and glance at him over my shoulder.
“You’ve got this.” I force a smile and push open the door.
Lots of hoots and catcalls follow once I’m inside. Then, silence as soon as Zak shows up next to me. I walk over to my locker and stand against it, watching him.
For as nervous as he probably is, you’d never know it. Tall, broad muscles outlined by the expensive suit that clings to him in all the right places. His penetrating eyes cast a glance around the room, his body steady and strong and confident.
Motherfucker, I want him so badly.
Who did he bring to that goddamn owner’s box? I wanna cut the bastard.
Zak smiles at the team. “We haven’t gotten a chance to officially meet yet, so I wanted to come down here and tell you a few things. First, my name, which I’m sure you already know, but not from me.”
A small chuckle.
“I’m Zak Kacey.” He takes a few steps into the middle of the room and claps his hands together. “You also probably know that I didn’t buy the Cincinnati Crusaders, that my dad did, but he was killed in an accident a few weeks back. So, I inherited the team. Our team.”
He pauses for a second. “The truth is, I didn’t want a football team. My own career kind of crashed and burned early onin college, and I never really recovered. I didn’t want to be around the game anymore. But that’s in the past. I had to accept some things that weren’t easy, but I’m working on it. I’m trying to move forward. I hope you’ll give me that chance.”
I watch as he walks around the middle of the room, making eye contact with the guys, trying to connect with them all. And fuck my life, it makes me fall for him even harder, which I didn’t think was possible.
“You might also think I have evil and sinister plans for you all, that I’m going to draft an all-gay team, change our team colors to the rainbow, and make our mascot a unicorn. At least, that’s what a lot of ignorant people are saying about me. I’m here to tell you I have no intention of changing anything about this team…yet.”
He gives the group a pointed look and then smirks.
“Unless you start losing," he continues. "Then, we’re going to talk. And then you might wish you had a unicorn to make a wish on.”
I look at the guys, see a lot of small smiles.
Encouraging. But the guys still aren’t all in yet.
“I’m here to support you however I can. You’re a solid team with a lot of talent and heart. I’m happy to be here and watch you all play today. And kick the Raptors’ asses, which I know you can and will. We’re going to set the stage early and show the world what we already know, that we’re a world-class team with world-class talent and heart.”
He runs his eyes over the faces around him. “So, I don’t think we should set a goal to make the playoffs this season.”
Some of the guys exchange puzzled looks.
Zak’s smile widens. “We’re winning the Super Bowl.”
The guys all cheer so loud, the walls vibrate.
His gaze stays on me for a second longer than it does everyone else. When he turns and leaves the locker room, allthe breath is sucked from my body. Gabe nudges me as the other guys suit up for the game.
“You have something to do with that whole speech?”
“Why would you say that?” I barely choke out the words, heat spreading down the front of my chest.
“All that crap about the bromance between you guys, the history at Ohio State.” He shrugs and grabs his shoulder pads. “Don’t get me wrong. He needed to show up today. And if it was because of you, great. I was just curious.”
“It wasn’t me. It was all him.” I peel off my t-shirt and drop it on the bench.
“Well, it was good timing.”
Gabe keeps talking, making conversation about the game and the fact that his boyfriend Vince is covering the game for ESPN. I listen with half an ear, my mind working overtime to figure out what that whole thing in the hallway was.
Thoughts keep spinning over the next hour or so. I joke with some of the guys and go through the motions of suiting up while popping Skittles, something that’s become a pregame ritual with me over the years. Funny thing is, I don’t really eat them off season. On game day, I welcome the tart sugar rush. It gets me pumped for the action on the field. Except the green ones. I hate the green ones, so I always toss those in the trash.