Page 53 of Broken Play
"Yes, it will. To build trust between a coach and a player, you need to communicate. It's okay if you disagree; just tell him and see what he says. Just give him a chance. It's your first year here and his."
I don't tell Greyson why he left the Heavyweights for Austin. Believe me, I want to, but HIPAA laws prevent me from sharing. But if Greyson gives him a chance, I'm positive Coach Stricker will share.
"Okay, can we talk about sex toys now?" he asks, disarming me with a dashing grin as a belly laugh rumbles out of me. "Good. Stricker isn't the only one who can make you laugh."
"Youarefunny sometimes."
"Has Sutton Anders ever used a vibrator?"
I feel heat creeping up my neck as I answer, "No."
"Will you let me use one on you? I promise it will feel good when I'm buried inside you and lay the vibrator on your nipples or on the place that gets you off more than anything."
I'm a woman, but I have never been so open about sex with anyone, not even Anna. I put my hands over my face, and it feels hotter than the Vegas Strip. "I'm going to bed on that note."
"Is that a yes?"
"It's a maybe. Night, Ten."
"Night, Boss."
I wish I could reach through the phone and kiss him good night, but it's a good thing I was unable to sneak into his room. I've been meaning to have a conversation about Coach Stricker, but I wouldn't have if I were in his room—I would be having too many orgasms to think about football.
The next day,nerves grab me by the legs as I enter the locker room, where the players and coaches are going through final instructions and J.D. says all the right things.
"Winners work, and you've put in the work. Let's show 'em we're tough like the shell of our mascot. If you were here last year, it's revenge time. If you weren't, today is the day you prove to yourself that you belong here on a championship-winning team."
Manifesting. I like it, and it's something I always do when I compete. Some have confusion written all over their faces, but everyone claps or lets out a "Hell yes."
"The GM wanted a chance to address the whole team, so if you will, make room for her," he says, and the green jerseys part.
J.D. helps me up onto a platform so everyone on the team can see me. "Thanks, Coach. Do you mind if I speak to the players alone, without the coaches?" I ask J.D.
He lifts a suspicious brow.
"I know this is unorthodox, but trust me, I'm not going to jeopardize that kick-ass motivational speech." My voice is light and airy as I attempt a joke.
The guys drop their heads, chuckling, and I get a glimpseof Greyson smiling from ear to ear. If I thought he was handsome outside of his pads—multiply that by ten—he's the epitome of the all-American man: rugged, handsome, determined, and charming.
J.D. says, "You do own the team." He gestures to the other coaches to follow him.
When they're out of earshot, I clear my throat. "First, I do not own this team; my dad does. I'm here to prove to myself and to him that I can run this team effectively and that I'm not just a washed-up former professional tennis player. Some of you may be upset you were traded to this team, and I understand. Change is hard. But today, we need to win this one for your coach. Coach O'Ryan was one of the premier quarterbacks in the league, and after an injury, the Vegas Dice traded him to the Armadillos. Two seasons later, he became a head coach. You know that practice facility?"
The players nod.
"Well, that facility was originally going to be named the J.D. O'Ryan Football Facility. His foundation helped get it funded. He had a bunch of kids there with him when the Dice broke ground. And when he came back to the city he gave so much to, the owner had the nerve to name it after himself. I promise you one thing: my dad has never put his name on a building. His company isn't the Anders Company. You can't win in life if you're out for yourself. You win when you help others achieve, and my dad placed his trust in me to help you achieve."
Taking a deep breath and scanning the players' faces, I continue. "It's the first game of the season, and we all have something to prove. What is that for you? Whatever it is, unleash it. Cozen and the offensive line are going to protect our quarterback. The receivers and running backs are goingto execute and score. The defense will create turnovers and score a defensive touchdown. Our special teams will give us favorable field position and kick field goals. And our quarterback will put this team on his arm and carry us to victory. Relationships are about trust, which has always been hard for me. But I trust this team. I trust that you will win this one for Coach O'Ryan because, I promise you, he's been fighting for you in ways you don't know."
I take a breath, and the players' focus is on me as I continue. "I've never been on a team, and you don't realize how lucky you are to have so many people care about your success. Thanks for listening. Now, what's a girl gotta do to get a little clap going?" I tease.
Greyson stands and starts the clap rolling throughout the locker room. He helps me down, moves me to the center, and the guys form a circle around me. "For the boss. For Coach. 'Dillos on three. One. Two. Three. 'Dillos!" They pump their helmets in the air, each player tapping my shoulder as they follow their leader out of the tunnel, fired up and ready.
After having the trust discussion with Greyson last night, I've been thinking about how much it means to be able to trust. My dad trusts me to run this organization. I trust the team to prove him right. Now I hope Greyson trusts Stricker.
To stay inconspicuous, I blend in on the sideline. After the Bodhi fiasco, I don't want to be easy to find. I hang back, watching most of the game with my neck bent back. The jumbotron shows the quarterbacks from both teams more than anyone else. And there is nothing more beautiful than Greyson O'Ryan throwing a long touchdown pass, jumping into the air, celebrating with his teammates, and then removing his helmet and shaking out his sweaty hair.
With a beaming smile, Stricker comes over to congratulatehim. Moving to a spot where I can see the interaction, I slide up next to Redham, who caught the pass, giving him kudos. I lean back a little and see that Greyson smiles, chatting with Stricker about our first win as a team.
