Page 81 of The Jack*ss in Class

Dad stepped forward, ever the diplomat. “Bridger Kingman,” he said, extending his hand. “These are my sons, Flynn and Gryffin.”

“Fox Daws,” he replied, shaking Dad’s hand beforeturning to us. “You guys looked great out there today. Not that I expected anything less from the Kingman dynasty.”

“Thanks.” But the combine wasn’t a sporting event that attracted celebrities. “Not exactly where you’d expect to find a movie star, even one who is also a tight end for the Dire Wolves.”

Fox laughed, an easy sound that matched his laid-back demeanor. “I’m here doing research for a role this summer, and was hoping to talk to Coach Bridger actually.”

Dad’s eyebrows rose. “What can I do for you, son?”

“I’ve been cast as Danny Watkins in a movie about his comeback after serving in the Middle East. I know you were drafted along with him.” Fox looked genuinely pleased.

Dad nodded. “That guy was tough as hell.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to capture,” Fox said, enthusiasm clear in his voice. “My grandparents live in Colorado and I’m headed there for spring break. I was hoping I could stop over for a visit and maybe talk to you about him?”

“Sure, kid. I’d be happy to help.”

“And maybe get in a little coaching on the field too?”

This guy was fucking ballsy. I liked it.

Dad folded his arms and gave Fox the patented take-no-prisoners coach look. But there was a smile behind his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

I leaned in and stage-whispered, “Be prepared to be puking your guts out by the end of practice.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Gryff and I both nodded emphatically. “You know it.”

“I’m down. I’m hoping to be right here with the scouts watching me like they are the two of you in a couple of years.”

“You’re pretty damn good,” I said. He was a scorer for the Dire Wolves and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d be in line for a Heisman in the next couple of years, up against Isak, of course. “But there aren’t a lot of movie stars in the League.”

Fox rubbed the back of his neck. “My agent wants me to focus on movies, but I love the game. Trying to balance the acting thing with school and football has been... interesting.”

“Tough choice,” Dad said, with the understanding of someone who’d seen plenty of young men at career crossroads.

The official cleared his throat. “Mr. Daws, we should continue if you want to catch the defensive back drills.”

“Right,” Fox nodded, then turned back to us. “Great meeting you guys.”

As he turned to leave, Gryff suddenly smacked my arm. “Dude. Jules.”

“Oh, shit.” Jules would absolutely lose it if she knew we met Fox Daws and didn’t her get anything.

Fox overheard and turned back. “Who or what is a Jules?”

“Youngest of the Kingmans, and a big fan of yours,” Dad said dryly. “She makes us watch your movies on repeat.”

“Oh, I got you.” Fox snapped a quick selfie with the three of us, then typed something into his phone. “Goodluck with the rest of the combine, guys. And with the draft.”

We watched him walk away, the official already bending his ear about someone else he needed to meet.

“Jules is going to absolutely lose her mind,” Gryff grinned. “I can wait to tell Artie either. She made me watch that space movie of his about seven hundred and forty-two times. Maybe now she’ll stop complaining I drag her to football games.”

I laughed, already imagining her reaction. “Not a chance.”

“Alright, enough distractions,” Dad said, shifting back to coach mode. “Let’s get back to the hotel and talk about those drills.”

---