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“That depends. I said a lot of stupid shit that day.” He made a face, and I bit back a laugh. I hadn’t been there, but I’d heard the stories afterward.

“You told me you didn’t care where you went,” the coach reminded him. “You just wanted somebody to give you the chance to prove you belonged.”

That sounded like Theo all right.

“Yeah. I remember that,” Theo said, nodding.

“Well, we’re going to give you that chance,” Hendrix said. Theo drew in a sharp breath, and his grip on my hand tightened. “Theo?”

“Yeah!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes widened as if he’d momentarily forgotten he was supposed to be part of the conversation. “Sorry, I’m here. I’m here.”

I squeezed his hand for support.

“Good, because I want you to hear this part.” There was a pause—probably for dramatic effect. If only he knew just how anxious Theo was. My own heart was pounding hard enough that I could feel it in my throat as we waited. “We’re turning the card in.”

Theo’s lips parted.

“You’re…” His words were lost in a quiet gasp.

“You’re going to be a Tampa Bay Barracuda,” Hendrix told him.

For one long moment, Theo didn’t move. He just stared at me, and I could see his brain struggling to catch up. As it did, a laugh escaped him that sounded dangerously close to a sob.

I’d known this moment was coming, but watching his dream become real right in front of me still knocked the breath right out of my lungs.

Theo was going to the NFL.

“Are you still with me, Road Runner?” Hendrix asked.

“Yeah. Fuck—sorry!” Theo apologized, but the coach just laughed. “Yes, Sir. I’m here.”

“You can swear. You just got drafted.”

“Well… holy shit.”

Holy shit was right. Theo looked at me like he needed confirmation that I was hearing the same conversation he was. His eyes were bright, his lips parted around a disbelieving smile, and his grip on my hand hadn’t loosened once. I squeezed back, hoping some of the certainty I felt could transfer through the contact.

“That’s usually about the reaction we get,” he said.

“You’re serious?” Theo replied.

“Dead serious. We want you, Theo,” Hendix told him, and my chest tightened. Those were words Theo deserved to hear. After everything his father had made football mean—after all the ways Theo had been taught that his worth depended on what he accomplished—someone was finally offering him the future he’d worked for because of who he already was.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Seriously, Coach… thank you.”

“You earned this, Theo. And don’t thank me yet. Just wait until training camp when you hate me.”

Theo laughed, wet and breathless. He scrubbed quickly beneath one eye with the heel of his free hand, though there was no hiding the tears gathering there.

“Enjoy this, Theo,” Hendrix continued. “Whoever’s there with you tonight, hug them. Cry if you need to. Let yourself have the moment. Tomorrow, everything changes. Welcome to Tampa, Road Runner.”

“Thank you, Coach.”

“We’ll see you soon, kid.”

The call ended, and Theo stared at the dark screen. Neither of us moved as the noise of the party filtered faintly through the bathroom door, dozens of people completely unaware that Theo’s entire life had just changed. It’d be a few minutes before it aired, and the lag gave him the chance to process—or attempt to.

“Rhodes,” Theo whispered, and I smiled. That was all it took. He crossed the tiny space between us. I caught him around the waist as his arms locked around my neck. His laughter broke into a half-sob, and I couldn’t blame him. “I fucking did it! I’m going to Tampa!”