Page 91 of Playing Mr. Perfect

“That’s it!” I call out as he circles back to the fourth cone.

He cuts right, stopping on a dime when he reaches the cone, then sprints at a ninety-degree angle, simulating a drag route, which is when a receiver runs a few yards downfield, then turns toward center field and runs parallel to the line of scrimmage. His direction changes can use a little work, but they’re strong.

“Finish hard!” I holler as he sprints to the next cone, stops, and cuts around the last one, finishing the drill with a hard sprint. “Great job.”

Ben slows to a walk, his hands on his hips as he catches his breath. “Thanks, man. I know I need to work on changing directions.”

“They’re a little rough, but they’re good. We can do some jab steps and shuffle drills and some other things that’ll help with that.”

His eyes widen. “You’ll run more drills with me?”

“If our schedules align. You still think I’m going to leave you hanging?”

“No, man, but…you’re a pro, and I’m just—”

“I’m going to stop you right there. No negative self-talk. I put my pants on one leg at a time, just like you. Nobody starts out as a pro. It takes hard work and dedication, and you’ve got both. I had personal coaches to whip my ass into shape.” The second the words leave my lips, I regret saying them. This kid doesn’t need a reminder of how much I had or the things he doesn’t. “I needed those coaches, because I didn’t grow up playing on Pee Wee teams and working my way up. I grew up overseas, and struggled to find teams to join.”

“I know. I read all about you and how you grew up living in huts and shit. That must’ve been wild.”

“Yeah, it was, but it didn’t make for an easy path to learn the sport. Listen, I’ve got to run in a minute. I know you’re busy with classes and work, but do you have any free time during the day when you can squeeze in a workout? Or do you want to stick to early mornings?”

We go over our schedules and find a few times when we can get together to train during the day. I have just enough time to get back to my place to shower and plan out my day with Pepper before heading into town to meet her.

“Stop apologizing. I’m glad you had to work this morning,” I say as Pepper and I leave her office, heading for the shops. After noticing a few too many glances at the restaurant the other night and in the sports store yesterday, I decided to try to blend in. I didn’t shave the last two days, and I’m wearing a baseball cap and an old sweatshirt instead of my expensive coat. I don’t want to draw any extra attention while we’re out.

“You needed a break from me already?” Her brow furrows.

“How can you even ask that after the way I ravaged you and burned our breakfast?” I hug her against my side and kiss her temple. “Well, your breakfast. I was busy eating mine.”

“Clay,” she says in that adorably innocent and exasperated way she has.

I chuckle. “I meant I was glad you had to work because I had a great time working out with Ben. I miss working with kids, and he’s incredible. He’s got a full ride at UVA, but he’s still working to help his mom make ends meet, and he’s driven to be the best. He’s out there every day pushing himself to be better on the field. We’re going to try to work out more this week.”

“That’s great. You sound excited.”

“I am. I had forgotten how thrilling it was to be on that side of the game.”

“That’s great, but what do you mean by that side?”

“Before going pro. When the game is your shiny brass ring, and you live and breathe for it. Just being around his enthusiasm and determination is invigorating.”

“Does that mean it’s not that way for you anymore?”

We walk around the corner, and I see the gallery I wanted to take her into. “I still love the game, but it’s complicated. When you go pro, things change. At some point it goes from being all about the game to being about the game and the business of it, with sponsorships and other obligations. But I’m sure that’s probably true of every profession in its own way. Look at how much you do now that you own the company.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot.”

“Well, if you can keep your hands off me long enough, we’ll get your ad done tonight and hopefully find you a receptionist quickly.”

“I’ll try to behave,” she teases.

“Please don’t.” I kiss her as we come to the art gallery. “This is our first stop.” I open the door and follow her in.

“I thought we were trying to figure out hobbies.”

“We are. I’ve got a whole day of ideas planned, but your office has no pictures on the walls. I thought we could look for some.”

“You really do notice every little thing, don’t you?”