Page 70 of Running
As I click it open, my mouth goes dry just from the first few entries.
>>Be watched
>>Shower fun
>>Be blindfolded….
And it keeps going on from there.
Goldie has laid herself bare here, admitting all the things that she wants to try.With me.
I get to be the one to have this list—andact on it with her? Not one thing she’s listed isn’t something I would love to do with her.
The images crossing through my head are fucking hot as hell.
Not wanting to leave her feeling exposed, I respond right away. Repeating my line from the auction night.
JOHNSON: I’m at your command.
Shit. And now I’m half hard.
As I walk into the locker room, I make a beeline for the restrooms. Entering a stall, I put the seat cover down and sit, fully clothed.
I will my dick to calm down, thinking about pass routes, the jock strap someone left by my locker, sweaty men in the huddle—anything to push the images of Grace’s list out of my head.
It takes five minutes of mental distractions before I feel like I might be able to function at football.
When I’m back at my locker, I put my phone away for the rest of the day, so I’m not tempted to look at the list again.
In reality, I don’t have much free time to lose myself in thoughts of Grace over the next couple of days.
The Thursday games that the league throws on the schedule are brutal for staying with your normal prep—studying game tape, coming up with tweaks to schemes, and running through practice reps. It’s such a blur that I barely remember packing for our Wednesday flight to Buffalo.
The game itself is tense. Bailey helps a ton in the first half with five catches, including two where he gains over twenty yards after making the grab. However, the Buffalo defense starts smothering him in the second half, and a few dropped balls and misread routes by the other wide receivers make things worse. By the last two minutes of the game, our 21-7 halftime lead has dwindled to 21-20.
When we get the ball back with 1:58 to go in the game, I regroup. We need to run out the clock with some first downs or at least get in field goal range to get another three points on the board, which would make them have to work harder to take the win if they get the ball back themselves.
I get the call from the sidelines to start the sequence—a running play. Not a bad choice because the clock will keep ticking down as long as our running back stays in bounds. He does, gaining four yards, and Buffalo is forced to burn a timeout.
It’s second down and six yards to go. I need to help us eat up some yards or eat up some clock—ideally both.
A passing play gets called, one of Bailey and my favorite routes so far this season. But after the center snaps the ball to me, Bailey gets bumped hard on his way to his spot by the cornerback and has another guy shadowing him. His momentum is slowed enough that he’s out of this play.
I quickly check our other two wide receivers, but neither have freed up any space from their coverage. Damn it. So I locate our tight end Walsh and dump it to him for a four-yard gain. After he executes a classic spin move, he adds another three yards.
A first down after his seven-yard gain. And now we’re modestly closer to field goal range. Even better—Buffalo uses their last timeout.
Ifthese short gains are going to be what we need to win the game, so be it. Marshall seems to agree, as the calls to start the next set of downs are a running play and a screen pass to Walsh. Combined, they net us fifteen yards, take another thirty seconds off the clock, and yield another first down.
We’re close. Damn close. One more first down and we can run out the clock.
Another pass play is called in, again with Bailey as first option. But the Buffalo defense triple teams him—Jesus, they must have read the play—so I am quickly scrambling for an alternative.
One second, two seconds, and I know I can’t wait anymore. I see a hole in the line and begin to run. Smolder, our superior blocking tight end, is in instead of Walsh and executes a beautiful tackle against a linebacker to let me cut through more daylight.
I’m not fast, and I’m also not slow. I do have the ability to see the field, anticipate where everyone is going to go, and I’m pretty good on the move as a result, when I do have to run.
Thanks to the protection of the offensive line and Smolder, I make the yards fly by. Once I reach the 35-yard line and see a bunch of Buffalo jerseys come my way, I drop down. No need to risk injury, and now the remaining seconds can just run out before we’re required to make our next play.
