Page 32 of Forever Offsides

I’m seventeen years older than she is.

So pretty much, all of that combined makes me a piece of shit.

“That’s… horrible. I’m sorry for her. Truly.”

“It’s been several years since he left. She’s more than over it. He’s your son, is very talented, and we want to keep you here and happy.”

“I…” Fuck my life. “Crew is a tight end. How does he feel about sharing?”

“We typically have two starters on our roster for that position, and Crew has always been a team player.”

“Russel likes being the star,” I admit. I’m fucking sick with this. “That said, he’s not a kid anymore, and I know he wants to win. And as you said, he has some image problems in Dallas that I’m sure he wants to shake. A new team and a better situation would likely help that.”

And despite everything, I’d like to coach him. I’d like him to be close and have a shot at developing a real relationship with him.

“Quinn is working here this season.”

My eyes close. I’m crazy about her. There’s no lying it away or denying it. I am.

But I love my son more than my life.

Still, the man in me doesn’t want him near her again.

I smile ruefully. Like I’d have any sort of say or dominion over that if he decided he wanted his second chance and she was willing.

He’s certainly more age-appropriate for her than I am.

“Maybe he’s willing to wait a year,” I say, regardless.

“And if he’s not?”

“Asher, you’re the GM. You make the deals. I’m here to coach your players. I don’t have plans to leave. This is the team and the job I wanted and left Denver for.”

More than that, it’s my shot at being a head coach. The dream job. I’ve been a tight ends coach, an assistant offensive coordinator, and then an offensive coordinator. This is my first time as a head coach, and how I do here, whether I stay here or not for the long term, will determine future job candidacy as well as my reputation in the league.

If I fail at this, my career is over or at the very least I’ll be forced to take a lesser job and maybe never get another chance. It’s why Quinn telling me she prioritized work felt so perfect. Like we could each have the best of both worlds. Now that’s done, and I have to get my head on straight and focus on what I’m here to do.

He smacks my back and stands. “I’ll think about it and see what Dallas is willing to offer. He’s a talented kid, and I believe he would help the team overall, but I won’t let him hurt my daughter twice. Not to mention, I’m not sure how Mason or Crew would feel about playing with him.”

“Understood.”

No wonder Russel was suddenly in for talking and seeing me. Is this about the Rebels, or is this about the girl he walked away from? I can already bet it’s not about being closer to me.

Yet another thing I’m pushing away today.

I stand and walk over to greet my quarterback, my tight end, and our new team orthopedic surgeon.

“Hey, Coach.” Mason extends his hand, and I shake it. I’ve met most of the players before today, including him. We had lunches and meetings over the last few days even if today is our first official time on the field.

“Good to see you. You too, Crew.”

“Thanks, Coach. Happy to be here.”

“Hi, I’m Rhett Jones.”

Quinn shakes my hand as she did earlier, but something extra flashes in her eyes. Jones is a very common last name. I can list about five or so players and another five or so staff off the top of my head. It’s likely why Asher didn’t put it together sooner. Plus, as I said, neither Russel nor I ever mentioned the other in interviews.

That was his choice.