Chapter Nineteen

Justin

"NURSE RATCHET," JUSTIN groaned as John rewrapped his chest like he was in a body cast.

"Ah, you'll be fine. Thank God for the bye week," Ethan's dad said, and Justin agreed.

Justin held his arm up while he fussed over it, and then Ethan handed over his next round of medication. Justin eased back down and winced, and Ethan's dad was in coach mode. Justin knew there wasn't anything more to do either.

"Thanks, I think. What's Momma Bethany doing?"

"Organizing our kitchen stuff and cooking us enough food for a week." Ethan winked.

"We have kitchen stuff?" Justin bit his lip, turning his head and not looking at Ethan. He knew if he did, he'd crack up, which would hurt.

"I hate this injury," Ethan muttered. "Don't be funny for a week."

John patted his son on the back. "Come on, let's go help Mom and let Justin rest."

By the end of the week and after several missed practices, Justin was moving but nowhere near top form. He ice-bathed and stretched, he jog-walked on the treadmill, and Coach frowned harder each day they got closer to their next game day. By the middle of the second week, Justin was far better and working hard to regain his lost strength. It wasn't too bad, but also wasn't a good time to not be at the top of his game.

Coach's mood dimmed further with an injured quarterback who'd somehow managed to slice open a finger to the bone. With only a third-string freshman quarterback who still had much to learn while their backup QB was still recovering from a broken collarbone earlier in the season, Coach hit them up with some new plays. They were more like trick plays, and Justin subbed as quarterback rather than receiver as Coach rearranged the roster for this one game.

Somehow, by Saturday, the banged-up team had its shit together for their first playoff game. While it was no walk in the park, they still crushed their opponent. And though he was still sore, it had been a wild thrill that had somehow dulled the sharp pain as Justin called plays and passed the ball again.

Now, he only had to wait out the media. Justin frowned in disappointment at Shawn, who had stopped seeing the pretty paramedic. Shawn just shrugged as he sat with him and waited for the all-clear. Coach called Justin in, and Justin told Shawn to go on home.

"Next month, you'll need to declare, then we'll work through Pro Day and the Combine." Coach grew serious. "I don't doubt you'll be invited."

Justin nodded.

"I think you go through the draft. They can't ask you certain questions now, but that doesn't mean they won't. Deal with those how you see fit. You have a good character profile from the team and my input. They may question your lack of social involvement. Go with the grades."

Justin nodded again.

"Then, you can turn them down and go free agency unless you get a deal and can feel out if they would be comfortable with you as a player, support you, even if it's not openly. Here." He handed Justin a short list of teams.

"These are where I think you shoot for—any of the others…" Coach gave him a grim expression.

"Got it, thanks." Justin studied the list. He was relieved, seeing the team he really wanted to play for on it."

"Which one are you looking at?"

"Let's just say I like the beach," Justin answered in a humorous tone as he got up. "You think I can pull it off? Get through the draft?"

"Academics, a business plan, hard worker, valuable player, what you can bring to them. You're a private person, but no one has said anything bad about you, Justin. They know these things. You don't have to convince them. Just talk about how much you love this damn game. The rest…" He sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, and I wish I did. But, yes, I think you can do it."

"Thanks, Coach. And thanks for this list."

Coach waved him off, out of his office.

*

BACK TO HIS regular position, a tough playoff season, followed by another bowl win, and Pro Day was on them before Justin knew it. Ethan and John were somewhere in the stands with the rest of the crowd as Justin and select players from their team all participated in the day's events. He'd met several scouts and representatives but told himself to keep his shit together as the team he wanted approached him next.

"Justin Halstead," the assistant offensive coordinator said as he enthusiastically pumped Justin's hand.

"I love the beach," Justin said as he shook back firmly.

"Glad to hear it! How are you doing after that injury?"

"Great, top shape, just a few bruised ribs and—" Justin held up his arm. "—a little battle scar."

They inspected the several inches of still-pink scar that ran down the back of Justin's forearm to his elbow.

"What do you think about coming down south for a few days?" the assistant asked.

"It would be an honor, and I mean it. I was really looking forward to meeting with you today."

The man seemed pleased as Justin gave him a nod, hopefully confirming he was a solid bet. "That's good to hear. We thought you might be looking for a colder climate," he said, lifting a brow.

"No sir. Sun and turf. I hate the snow." Justin's heart raced as the assistant told him they'd see him again soon and headed off.

He got a water bottle and tracked the assistant as he strode directly to Coach. Justin prayed but believed his coach would confirm his desire to play in Florida. Justin met with two more team representatives, and everyone talked around—as was done at this stage. He met with one other team from the West Coast he'd consider and two teams he'd never want to play for but still maintained his professionalism while offering no hints of interest in them.

When it was over, John picked him up in the SUV, and they stopped to get Bethany and Ethan at the condo for dinner out.

"He so knew. He was smiling, nodding, and shook your hand twice," Ethan babbled and waved his hands next to Justin in the back seat. "My eyes hurt from…" He held his hands up as if holding binoculars to his face hard. "Oh my God, I was just like…" He did it again, and Justin loved how excited Ethan was.

"I think he got the hint," Justin said, and he told Ethan every single word and detail as he eagerly listened.

"I hate the snow." Ethan cracked up and looked at his father, who was just as amused.

"That's one way to say it without saying it."

Justin told them what each team rep had said, including the one on the West Coast. They went over the list again and the one team on it that hadn't met with him or shown an interest. John had a reason—that they didn't need his position after recruiting for it hard in the last draft, and did so with a veteran already on board. So, it wasn't personal; they needed defensive players this round.

They pulled into an upscale steakhouse Ethan's parents were treating them to. It was an overdue celebration for their engagement, the season, the bowl win, and this new leg of their journey—going pro. They were halfway through their meal, Bethany sitting with Ethan on one side of their booth and John and Justin on the other, when a man in a suit stopped by.

"Justin Halstead," the man said and it wasn't a question.

Justin stared at the head coach of Florida's Bay team. John scooted over so Justin could slide out to stand and shake his hand.

"I'm Coach Robert Nellis. I thought that was you. I hear good news that you're coming down south for a few days."

"Yes, sir, I am looking forward to it." Justin hadn't seen this man at the day's events. He wondered why he was even here.

"These are your parents?" Coach Nellis asked as he extended his hand.

"No, sir, this is Coach John Andrews, his wife Bethany, and their son Ethan," Justin said as the freaking head coach shook hands with everyone.

"Justin spent some time with my team over the summer," John said. "The kids loved him, and I think we increased his speed."

Justin agreed. "Definitely."

"You're fast," Coach Nellis said. "I won't keep you." He motioned across the room to a woman Justin guessed was his wife at another table. "We wanted a great steak; we were here in town for a quick meeting. Congratulations on that bowl win, and what a season ." Coach Nellis said his goodbyes and shot Justin a look that spoke volumes. "We'll see you soon."

"Yes, Coach," Justin said and sat back down once he was gone.

John blew out a breath, just as deer-in-the-headlights as a wide-eyed Justin was, and slightly inclined his head.

"Yeah. After he's gone," Justin said under his breath.

Ethan covered his mouth at how Justin's hand was shaking as he held his fork, trying to finish his meal.

They all gave a smiling wave as Coach Nellis and his wife headed out. No sooner than the door closed behind them, Justin and John pulled "an Ethan" and squealed, hugging each other.

"Do I even have to say it?"

Justin shook his head.

"What?" Ethan asked.

"For the Bay's head coach to recognize you, know your name, come over, and know your stats and season—that's huge," John explained quietly to Ethan. "And that he already knows Justin is coming for a visit." John nodded. "You are on his list. Must have been some meeting for him to be here."

"And we like him, his team?" Ethan asked.

"That's your beach house, baby," Justin said, and Ethan nodded, understanding.

"That would mean you'll be closer to us," Bethany whispered, and Justin and John nodded.

*

FOUR DAYS LATER , Justin and two other prospects were on a team plane to the Gulf Coast of Florida to spend two days with the Bayhawks, working out and running drills. Everyone called the team "the Bay." They would tour the facilities and meet the coaching staff. Across the country, other athletes were doing the same, all jetting toward their hopeful futures.

"Top pick?" a player next to Justin asked.

"Oh yeah."

"Me too." The guy tilted his head across the aisle. "Second choice for him."

"This is definitely my top pick," Justin answered, and the guy nodded hard. "Justin Halstead." He held out his hand. "Tight end."

"Reece McReedy, center."

You had to love your center, and Justin was happy to be with another offensive player.

McReedy indicated the other player again. "QB."

Justin glanced over at the other guy sitting alone.

They talked football, growing up, and high school games, and Justin reminisced, as did McReedy, as they got to know each other. The QB slept the entire flight.

McReedy seemed just as eager as Justin and the humor between them came easy. "I hope they take us both. I like you, man."

"Same," Justin said. "I hope we fly back together."

They toured the facilities first, were given swag, and then met the coaching staff and team. After the niceties were out of the way, it was to the training facilities for an unofficial battery of tests and a workout session. Training staff came in with clipboards and stopwatches, and Justin, again damn thankful for Ethan and cross-country, killed it on distance and speed on the treadmill. They went through weights and jumps, with a few remarks about the photograph of Justin and the infamous catch.

Their last station for the day was a chat with the staff, not an interview per se, but an interview nonetheless, as Justin shook hands with everyone, nodded at Coach Nellis over in the corner, and took the lone seat across from the coaching staff.

This was it .

Justin's moment of truth. He conversed with them as they slipped in their questions about his family, his willingness to relocate, his plans for after the NFL, and his social media account. The one.

"Who are the kids?" An assistant flipped his phone around, showing the video clip of the kids on John's team reenacting his leap and catch.

Justin knew he looked proud as he answered, "I trained with those guys last summer while I worked on my speed with a high school coach. They were a great group of kids, and I think I learned as much from them as they did from me."

"You got paid for that?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, sir, it was a volunteer thing. Coach Andrews is a good friend of mine. He needed some help over the summer, and I had a need to improve my speed and distance running and better learn to control my breathing."

"Your speed did increase," Coach Richardson said and then rattled off Justin's stats from the year before and this year.

"Distance running really helped me with not sucking for air in the second half of the game. It improved my endurance."

"And you know Coach Andrews how?" another asked.

"I met his son in a freshman composition class. He said his dad was a football coach, and he was a cross-country runner for the university. It all just worked out."

"We don't have much media on you," the offensive coordinator said.

"No, sir, I'm a private person. I study to keep my grades up, and I know it can't be avoided—the media, but I've never been interested in that scene. It's just always been about playing football for me. That's why I'm rarely on social media either."

"Honor student, chancellor's list for the last three years. Rare ."

"Yes, sir. My mother is a high school English and literature teacher, and my father is an engineer. Slacking in school was a concept…" Justin paused. "Sorry, it wasn't even a possibility. Not with my parents."

"Hardcore, English-teacher mom and engineer dad," he repeated. "Good influences."

"Yes, sir. I'm fortunate," Justin said, and Richardson turned and gave a nod to Nellis.

"Thank you, Justin. We look forward to talking with you more at the Combine," Coach Richardson said and stood. Justin stood and shook all their hands.

He took a step toward the door but stopped as one of the other men asked, "What'd you think about McReedy?"

Justin turned and answered honestly. "I liked him instantly; he was friendly and funny, said this was his first choice, and I told him it was mine. You have to love the center, and I see that in him. I was impressed by his performance in the gym as well."

"And Johnson?" another asked.

"I didn't get an opportunity to get to know him like I did McReedy," Justin said.

And with that done, they indicated for him to leave. Justin exhaled hard and gave McReedy a discreet thumbs-up as they called him in next.

The final day was a practice session with a few team members. Justin did everything he could to work hard and not be starstruck. It was no easy practice; they worked them hard, giving the impression of how difficult it was to make it in the NFL.

Justin showered and dressed for his flight back home. McReedy sat beaming next to him in the locker room.

"On the plane," Justin said, and McReedy understood.

"But you're dying just like me," Justin said, agreeing with what McReedy couldn't yet say.

They had their final goodbyes with the staff and were in the air. McReedy and Justin sat together again, with the QB on his phone, his headphones in, closer to the front.

"Spill it, man," McReedy said.

"They asked me about you," Justin said, and McReedy looked like he was about to burst with excitement.

"Same; asked me about you and him." McReedy jerked his head at the QB.

And they talked animatedly, sharing what they'd said about the other and the QB.

"Man, you were nicer than me," McReedy said. "I told them straight up. Dude slept on the flight and showed no interest in getting to know us."

"Thanks for the kind words about me."

"Team captain material, right there. Had me feeling less nervous and having a good time; we talked about growing up and loving the game. A good guy, for real, and that you hoped we'd get to fly back together and pick right up where we left off."

Justin and McReedy exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch no matter how it went. They shook hands and hugged after they debarked, and Justin hoped, on the taxi home, he'd see him again and play on the same team.

Later, Ethan stood in a Florida team T-shirt from the swag bag that was entirely too big for him. He hopped around like an idiot, doing the stupid bird flap thing Bay fans did.

"You really think it went well?" he asked as he hopped onto the bed and straddled Justin. "I want every single detail and thought you had. Go."

And Justin gazed contentedly up at Ethan, now sitting on him, and told his man everything from start to home.

"That one nod, when he turned and gave it to the head coach—that was it, that was him saying I want him ," Ethan said and then kissed him. "I'm so proud of you." And then Ethan showed him how much he'd missed him as he slinked down Justin's body.

"Are you sure?" Justin panted. Though there was no doubt Ethan was as in, as Justin saw stars and prayed to gods he didn't know the names of while Ethan crossed another milestone on the physical side of their relationship, one Justin knew was a huge hurdle for him.

"I want you to fuck me," Justin whispered after returning the favor, and they both lay there lazy and satiated.

"You do?"

"I do, Ethan."

"I've never."

"Neither have I. Think about it."

"Yeah, I need some time to think about that, but yes," Ethan said, and Justin kissed him.