Page 118 of Forever Offsides

Quinn: Just one.

Me: Better be me you’re talking about, baby girl, or I’ll end up killing someone.

Quinn: Such a caveman.

Me: Only with you.

Quinn: Good. What time do you land tonight?

Me: It’ll be morning. Close to three, I think.

Quinn: Long day. But I’ll see you soon. Stay safe with the weather. *Heart emoji*

Me: I will. Have a good shift. *Heart emoji*

The game is an absolute slugfest. They also end up halting the game and delaying it for an hour due to lightning. Not to mention, we lose. Our second loss of the season, and no one is happy about it, least of all me.

We shower, do the postgame conferences, eat a meal, and get on the plane. It’s after seven Seattle time, and I spend much of the first hour of the flight working on game plans and sorting through all the things I want to focus on this week at practice, heading into Thursday’s game.

“Hey, Coach?”

My head quirks up to find Crew standing beside me on the aisle.

“Got a second?”

“Sure. Have a seat.”

I pan a hand to the empty one beside me, and he takes it, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Crew’s a big guy, but he’s definitely put on some muscle and weight since the start of the season.

“I wanted to talk to you about a few things.”

I pivot to face him, putting my back to the window. The plane is relatively quiet. Most of the guys are resting and anxious to get home. Especially after a frustrating loss. It’s a shitty way to end a road trip. “What’s up?”

“A couple of things, but I don’t want you to take one of them the wrong way.”

I give him a wry grin. “Go on.”

“I was wondering how you think I’m doing.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“You were a tight end. A very good one despite playing on an underperforming team with underperforming quarterbacks.”

I chuckle. “Thanks. Is that what you didn’t want me to take the wrong way?”

“No. I’m starting with the easy one first.”

I shift a little more and glance around. The row behind us is empty, and the guys in the row across the aisle have their noise-canceling headphones on and their eyes closed.

“Mason has my dad to talk to about quarterback stuff,” he continues. “I played in LA because I wanted to make my own name for myself outside of my family and the Rebels. But my dad convinced me to come home, and truly, I love playing with my brother. And yes, I have a tight ends coach. But he wasn’t a player, and you were.”

“I get it. I didn’t have that either, and I agree it can be helpful to have someone you can talk to who understands your position and what you go through on the field.”

His eyes brighten. “Yes. That. I know Russel has that with you, but⁠—”

“Russel doesn’t come to me for a lot of guidance. But I’m happy to talk with you about anything you want.”

“Awesome. Thanks.”