Page 52 of Her Game Plan

It’s a short flight to Kansas City, and Callan spends the entire time on his phone or a tablet handed to him by a coach, talking to Adam about the plans for tomorrow. Meals and snacks are brought around constantly, electrolyte drinks pushed like they’re afraid we’re all on the brink of dehydration—which maybe is a concern for Kansas City in August.

When we land, we deplane quickly, the rookies are the only ones showing off for the cameras as they walk from the plane to the four charter buses waiting for the team. As we walk down the steps together, I lace my fingers through Callan’s, and he says, “For the record, I did some internet stalking on the plane. Jace Mercer is a complete fuck. I take back what I said. I would rather have to lock myself in a cage every time I hear your vibrator turn on than be in the same league as him. And I already sent an email to HR, reporting Nabers.”

Chapter 21

Charlotte

I tug on the bill of Callan’s hat as we walk into the hotel after a short bus ride from the airport, complete with a police escort.

“Devine and Langford…” the coordinator murmurs as she searches through her stack of key cards. “Here you go.” She places an envelope with the number 711 on it in Callan’s hand.

The woman smiles at us, the corner of her lips dropping the longer we stand there. “Did you need something else?” She searches her tablet. “King bed, room seven-eleven, Devine and Langford.”

A faint buzzing grows in my ears as I turn toward Callan. “King bed. Devine and Langford.”

The woman is staring at us, her eyes flicking back and forth. “Did you not want to be in the same room? I’m sure we can get another. The rooming sheet shows you in one room.” She glances at the spreadsheet she has open on the tablet in front of her. “It doesn’t say who requested you two stay together. I didn’t think—”

“Of course we wanted to room together,” Callan cuts in, throwing his arm around my shoulders, my bag stuck between our bodies. “Not to worry, Gracie. We just hadn’t had it confirmed, so were confused when we didn’t have two keys. This is ideal.”

I let him usher me off toward the elevators before whispering, “Are you sure this is okay? What if you don’t get enough sleep?”

“I’ll be fine,” he replies when the doors to the elevator open, and we load in with a whole group of players. The guys make idle chitchat as we ride to our room, one of the players going on and on about what he hopes dinner will be.

When everyone laughs, I tilt my head to the side. I didn’t get the joke.

“It’s funny because it’ll be a buffet with every option known to man.” Callan’s breath tickles my ear as he explains it to me, our bodies still held together by his arm around me.

I lean into him slightly. “All the best jokes have to be explained.”

A slow smile cracks across his face. “Come on, roomie,” he says as we finally reach our floor, the same one as the majority of the other guys.

“I thought we’d graduated out of roommates,” Pitt says as we make our way down the hallway. “I haven’t had one since I was twenty-seven.”

“Guess you’re not as lucky as I am.” Callan stops in front of our door, offering Pitt a fist bump before we part ways.

I walk into the hotel room, taking in the view of the city out the wall of windows before scanning the blue carpet, the large television, and finally, the bed. It looks—

“Have king beds always been that small? There is no way we’re both going to be able to sleep there without touching. And I don’t know if we can build a pillow wall strong enough to keep me out. I’m a snuggler, okay? I didn’t tell you before because Chris always makes fun of me for it, but I can’t help it! I like to snuggle. I’m definitely going to try to cuddle with you all night, and you’re going to feel violated, and you’re not going to be able to sleep, and then we’re going to lose the game, and it will be all my fault, and my dad will know, and I’ll lose the company, and you’ll lose your job, and…”

“Do you think we both become homeless after that?” Callan is leaning against the wall, watching me.

“I mean, maybe. I don’t currently have a home right now, so it’s not much of a stretch for me.”

He walks over toward me, pulling me into a hug. My chest expands as I take a deep breath, the woody smell of his cologne making me want to nuzzle his chest.

“You have a home. You’ll have two homes, the same as you do right now. And we’re not having a pillow wall. We’ll cuddle. I like to cuddle. You like to cuddle. I think after last night, cuddling is the least weird thing we could spend tonight doing.” Callan presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “Don’t overthink it, Princess. Come eat dinner with me and the team. Then you can have the room to yourself for a while when I’m at meetings.”

The logistics behind an away game is intense, but it might’ve been the one part of this job that I felt most prepared for. Moving musical acts’ sets around the country is surprisingly similar to moving football teams. As a consequence, I had no trouble understanding the need to pack up and send all the gear ahead of time so that we’d have training rooms complete with massage tables, ice tubs, and a full medical setup ready at the hotel and any piece of equipment the players might possibly need for tomorrow.

We leave the room, making our way to the elevator. “What do you all do tonight?” I wonder out loud once we’re on our way to the first floor. “More film?”

“There’s always more film when you’re a professional athlete, Princess. There’s your film, and your opponent’s film, and your opponent’s opponent’s film. It’s a never-ending activity. So yes, a little bit. But we have sessions where we go over final adjustments to the game plan as well as some walkthroughs. We usually use a ballroom or conference room to walk through key formations before curfew.”

The short elevator ride ends, and we head to the banquet room the team has rented for meals. When we enter, I take in the tables of food and the players and staff scattered around before following Callan to the line. I spoon a small scoop of rice onto my plate and cover it with salmon, ignoring the seven other protein options as I trail after Callan to a table. Unsurprisingly, he picks a spot next to Pitt, who is sitting by himself, scrolling on a phone as he shovels food into his mouth.

“Do players ever break curfew?” I ask after a few bites. I would hate the idea of a curfew as a grown-ass adult. Would certainly break it just to prove I could.

“Yes,” Pitt replies at the same time Callan says, “Not really.”