Page 11 of First Down Promise

“It’s a vibe,” Pete argues about his car.

“Atrocious, for sure,” Josh adds.

“Says the guy who had a truck transported here from Texas just so you could have a Lone Star trim,” Pete says.

“And I’d do it again, Peter,” Josh says and smirks.

“Whoa, breaking out full names here,” Coop jokes.

“Since we’re at it, Cooper,” Pete says.

“Doesn’t bother me, hotshot.” Coop’s usually not that quick, so I mentally applaud him. “Josh, would you ever transfer teams and go play for Houston or Dallas?” Coop asks.

I gasp at the sheer mention of Josh transferring, and the guys cock their heads at me. “Sorry, I just realized I took ibuprofen. Can’t be good to mix alcohol with that,” I lie.

“Relax, there’s like two drops of alcohol in those,” Pete replies.

Josh glances back at Coop. “No, I’d retire before transferring anywhere at this point. I can’t imagine switching after so many years now,” he answers. My shoulders relax, but I hide it by taking another sip.

“When you retire, would you move back?” Coop asks. Josh’s eyes flicker to me, and while he diverts them when our eyes meet, I hold my gaze on him.

Josh clears his throat. “No idea. If I do, it won’t be West Texas. Maybe one of the big cities, but I don’t know. I like Nashville, though. What about you?”

“We’re not too far from Alabama. We’ll see,” Coop answers. “What about you, Ab? Ever going back to Wisconsin?”

“Um, I don’t know. I go back and forth on moving,” I answer. When I look at Josh, he’s already watching me a second longer than he should.

The honest answer is that if Josh Mackenzie is single in Nashville, I have no reason to leave. And that’s torturous—never knowing if he’ll meet the one or, worse, if I will.

Chapter Four

Josh

Pete winces again, adjusting his posture in the driver’s seat. It has to be the second or third time I’ve caught him with a pained expression during this drive alone. He grips the wheel until his knuckles are white and squares his shoulders against the seat.

“Dude, what?”

“Nothing, just my fucking ribs.”

“Flaring up again?” I ask. “I can drive.”

Pete shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. We’re almost there, anyway.”

“Can’t believe you did reps,” I scoff. “You don’t do us any good if you’re down.”

I catch Pete side-eyeing me, but he keeps his expression centered on the road ahead. “Kenzie, relax. I have to practice.”

“Until you push yourself and get a bad enough hit that benches you,” I mutter.

“That’s why I need Coop and Dane to do their jobs and make sure that doesn’t happen,” he snaps. He turns his head toward me for a split second. “And you need to catch the ball if I throw it to you.”

“Let’s hope Dane has some good booze ‘cause you’re being a prick,” I mumble, glancing out the side window. The foliage is bright green, but in another month, the trees will be orange and shedding leaves everywhere. Fall was my favorite season growing up for the holidays, but as an adult, it just means pain because of the regular football season. Spring was the only time I had to catch my breath before the cycle restarted.

We’re headed for Dane’s place outside of Nashville, but it’s rare for him to invite us over. When he suggested it in the locker room after practice, we all looked at each other like who is this, and what have you done with Dane?

“Whatever.”

I groan as I try to sit straighter in the passenger seat to ease pressure on my back. “I’m driving my truck next time. This fucking thing couldn’t be more uncomfortable.”