Page 5 of Tangled with the Tight End

“Training camp?” I look around. “Do you pitch tents on the grass?”

Declan laughs. The sound is deep and resonant. “No. We don’t sleep here.”

“So, no s’mores?” I ask.

“No. Sadly not. I think the coaches would frown on s’mores this close to season.”

“Frowning on s’mores,” I mutter to myself, wondering what kind of monsters these coaches are. S’mores are some of the best things on earth. You have to be pretty cold-hearted to frown on them.

“We’re grabbing dinner,” Patrick says to Declan. “Want to join us? Or do you have to do anything else with the team?”

“Delaney and Linc were going to grab food,” Declan says. “But I can eat with them anytime. Give me a minute to shower and I’ll join you. My treat.”

“That’s not necessary,” Patrick says.

“Nah. Let me treat,” Declan says. And then he turns and jogs away, and I work hard not to stare at his tight end. Yep. I get it. The name makes sense now.

Chapter 2

Declan

Some people think football

is a matter of life and death.

I assure you, it’s much more serious than that.

~ Bill Shankly

Interesting. She said it was interesting. That’s a first. Most women would be falling over themselves with effusive gratitude, talking about my moves as if they invented the game.

Not these bookish women from Waterford. Daisy’s come around a bit ever since she and Patrick started dating. Maybe if it were a book about football, they’d be more appreciative of the hard work I put in to be the kind of athlete who made it to the pros.

I don’t take the privilege of my position for granted. It’s just a rare moment when I find a woman staring at me without stars in her eyes. Instead, the look I got from Winona could be classified as a combination of perplexed and mildly disgusted. Cass tried to make up for her twin, doubling down on her admiration.

A reporter approaches me—Candace. I know her well. She’s with ESPN. A regular on the field during game days.

“Declan, you’re looking strong out there.”

“Thank you, Candace,” I say, looking down at her and then smiling directly into the camera her cameraman has balanced on his shoulder.

“How’s the team shaping up?” she asks.

I answer her with facts.

“We’ve got a great lineup on the offense this year. Delaney’s back as QB. He’s a great leader. We’re gelling as a team.”

“And the word on the street is you’re expected to have your best season yet.”

“I’m putting in the work. We all are,” I say. “Football’s a team sport. We win together. We lose together.”

“Spoken like the diplomat you are,” Candace says with a warm smile to the camera.

I don’t know if I’d call myself a diplomat. I grew up with a powerhouse father. He’s the consummate businessman. I’ve unintentionally studied his way with words my whole life. It serves me well when I have to shine with reporters, when I need to motivate a teammate, and when I’m outplaying an opponent’s mind games on the field.

“I’m feeling good,” I tell Candace. “Hoping we make it to the big game this year.”

“Everyone’s saying this could be the year the Thunder takes it all.”