I took a deep breath. “This is a critical year for me, yeah. I know that I can be a successful quarterback in this league, but this is the season I have to make that clear out on the field. If I don’t, yeah, the team can find someone, pretty easily.” I smiled. “My goal is to show them right away that there’s no need to do that. Next question.”
The press conference went on for another 30 minutes, the reporters slinging questions at me while I tried to answer them honestly without letting them inside too much. It was a high-wire trapeze act of sorts, lots of balancing going on.
By now, though, I was getting used to it.
After I had thanked everyone and left the room, Coach Armstrong came up to me and pulled me aside. “Nice job, Parker.” From Coach Armstrong, that was pretty much the highest compliment.
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Quarterbacks meeting in a few. Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Coach.”
“Oh yeah, Morris is looking for you. Said to catch him before the meeting.”
“Yeah? Any idea what about?”
Coach Armstrong shook his head as he turned away. As he walked down the hall, I thought I could hear him say to himself, “I don’t keep track of these things.”
“Thanks, Coach,” and I waved to his back. Coach Armstrong’s picture appeared next to the word ‘gruff’ in the dictionary, but at the same time, almost every player that played for him loved him like a father. And even players who didn’t were respectful. Armstrong had earned that.
I headed over to the athletic wing, eager to see what the head of staff wanted before my quarterbacks meeting. The first game was coming up soon and we had to start getting ready, installing the game plan, and figuring out how to deal with the opposing defense. The real routine of professional football started now, and I was looking forward to it. Meetings, practice, gym, game, recovery. Rinse and repeat for 17 weeks, and if you were good enough, 3-4 weeks more.
It didn’t sound like much, but at the end of it was one of the most coveted championships in American sports. The chance to be legendary. I wanted it so bad I could almost taste it.
But it lay at the end of a long road, one we were just at the beginning of. I didn’t see the head of Athletics around, so I went directly to his office.
Morris was sitting at his desk. “Parker, good to see you.”
“Thanks. Coach Armstrong said you wanted to see me?”
“Yeah, got someone new on staff to introduce to you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, new quarterbacks’ trainer and physical therapist. Gonna be making sure you and Lee stay on your feet between games.”
“Sounds good, what happened to the last guy?”
“Family stuff, he had to move back west.”
“Ah, OK.” I couldn’t remember the last guy’s name. Once the season started I was usually so in the zone it didn’t matter who was icing me up or rubbing me down, etc. I just wanted to get back onto the field or into the film room. “Where is he?”
Morris stood up. “Let’s go to the quarterbacks’ training room, should be in there.”
I nodded and followed him down the hall after Morris passed by me, and a couple minutes later he opened the door into the quarterbacks’ training room. I spent a lot of time in here, so I knew it well.
“Lance Parker, meet your new athletic trainer and physical therapist.”
Oh. OH SHIT.
It was her.
The girl from last night.
The girl I had just woken up next to a couple hours ago.
The girl I wanted to see again more than anything, whom I never thought I’d see again.
It was Charlotte.
“Charlotte Calloway, meet Lance Parker, starting quarterback for the New England Patriots. He’s your most important customer.”
Well, if anything, I wouldn’t forget what this trainer looked like any time soon. Or her name.
Shit.
CHAPTER 04 - CHARLOTTE
When I woke up that morning Parker was gone. I wasn’t entirely shocked by that, but it was more than a little disappointing. Of course, visions of us spending the day together, having sex in between serious bouts of getting to know each other, and maybe, just maybe, stopping our sex and talking enough to eat a little bit before diving right back into bed, all those thoughts disappeared once I looked at the clock and realized I had somewhere to be.
And that somewhere, unfortunately, was most definitely not my bed, naked, with Parker in it. Most unfortunately.
So this was what the morning after a one night stand felt like. It wasn’t something I wanted to repeat often, or at all, but I certainly didn’t feel the waves of revulsion and guilt I had always assumed I would. Stupid media!
Mostly, though, I didn’t have any time for thoughts like that - I had somewhere to be, and that somewhere just happened to be the Patriots facility. Luckily I was already pretty close.
I jumped into the shower still holding my toothbrush and vigorously brushing my teeth. After I came out, fresh and clean, I stood in front of my mirror and did my make up, before pulling on my clothes. I tried as hard as possible not to think about Parker, but memories of his hands all over my body, of his cock pushing into me came flooding back every time I happened to look at my bed.