Page 101 of The Game Plan
“Tell me it gets easier.”
Q laughs on the other end of the call. “Define easier. Will you all start sleeping longer? Sure, then Lennon hits a regression or starts teething. Eventually, it gets easier…until something else happens.”
I groan, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder while I walk to the property’s gym. This morning, I got a later start than usual. A pretty blue-eyed cutie kept me awake for most of the night, but I’m not complaining. Our late-night chats are my favorite, and the late start gave me a chance to call Q on his way to the stadium for his morning workout.
“That’s reassuring, man.”
He chuckles. “It’s the best, though. I wouldn’t trade a second of the worst nights with Cleo. Girl has me wrapped around her tiny finger, and my wife won’t stop buying her custom clothes for games.”
“I should get Lennon a little something for game days.”
“Call Macy. She hooks Wilder up with so much shit.” MacyMiller, soon to be Carlton, is a friend of Brynn’s. We all ran around together for a while at CTU before she moved in with her boyfriend. After graduation, the two of them moved to the East Coast for her fiancé’s golf career, and she opened a boutique where she makes unique sports pieces.
“I’ll text her later today.” I sit on a bench outside the gym. The air is sticky, but I’m not ready to get off the phone. “So how’s life with a, what, nine-month-old and the league?”
“Busy as fuck. But good,” he says. “It’s weird that people are buying jerseys with my name on the back and wanting to know all about my life.”
“Yeah, but you had that in college,” I argue.
“Not like this. The women waiting in the hotel lobbies, the fans screaming your name. It’s chaos, no matter where I’m at.”
“Fuck that. How does the most jealous woman in the world handle your name being called by other women?”
He bursts out laughing. “For every woman who screams my name, she demands an orgasm.”
I snort a laugh. “Sounds like Brynn.”
“And those women don’t matter. They only want clout. I don’t spare them a glance because all I see is Wilder, and there’s not a damn thing I would do to risk losing her and Cleo.” There’s a small pause as everything sinks in. “You think about it much?”
“Playing in the league?”
“Yeah. Ever regret not giving it a shot before going straight into coaching?”
I scrub a hand down my face, my mind drifting back: seeing Savannah at graduation, spotting her outside the Chinese restaurant, then having her move in with me, marrying her, becoming a dad.
“Fuck no,” I say without hesitation. “Coaching’s always been my dream. Sure, it might’ve been neat to give the NFL a shot, but I would’ve missed this. Missed a second chance atus.”
Q exhales. “Goddamn. I never thought I’d see the day when my broody best friend would turn into a softy.”
“Fuck off.”
“Nah, man. Having a daughter, shit changes you.”
“That it does. You and the fam still visiting at the end of the month?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Wilder can’t wait for Cleo to meet her new bestie.”
“Dear lord. My daughter's best friends with a mini-Brynn Wilder.”
Q barks a laugh. “Who would’ve thought?”
I think of all the times I gave Brynn hell for her immaturity and reckless behavior. And now I’m married to one of her closest friends, raising a daughter who will grow up with Brynn’s daughter as a close friend—even though we’re hundreds of miles apart. It’s a full-circle moment. One that terrifies me, because I know the kind of trouble their mothers have gotten into over the years. Quinton still has the broken coffee table as evidence of their shenanigans.
We hung up after a few more minutes when Q pulled into the parking lot. I sit against the bench for a second longer before heading inside to work my muscles. His question lingers.Ever regret not giving it a shot before going straight into coaching?
Not for a damn second.
The smell of freshly baked sweets greets us as Sav, Lennon, and I walk through my parents' front door. If I had to guess, Mom made her special chocolate chip cookies, which is just the recipe from the back of the chocolate morsels, but I’ll let her keep her secret.
