Chapter 37 Asher Nash

Complicated Dinosaurs

I walk into the house, and my dad is in the family room watching another western. I swear, the guy doesn’t do anything except gamble, watch westerns, and sponge off his kids.

I wait for a commercial, and then I walk into the family room and stand in front of the television.

He makes a little flip of his hand motion to indicate that I should step aside, but I stand firmly where I am.

“I have news,” I announce.

He raises both brows.

“Grayson, Lincoln, Spencer, and I are all chipping in on getting you a new place.”

He sinks back a bit as if I just dealt a physical blow.

“Gray thinks it can be ready by the end of the month,” I continue. “He’s going to buy you the place, and Linc, Spence, and I will split your monthly fees.”

“What about utilities?”

Those are his first words since I walked into the room. I literally just told him we’re buying him a house and taking care of one of his monthly expenses, and he has the nerve to ask that question.

Is it any wonder why I don’t want to live with him anymore?

“We’ll figure it out,” I finally say dryly.

“You’re kicking me out of my own house?”

“Dude, I’m twenty-eight, and I’m still living with my dad. Would you have wanted to live with your dad when you were my age?”

“No, but to be fair, my dad was an asshole.”

The thought that the apple didn’t fall far strikes through my brain, and it pulses a new fear that I’ve never once thought about before.

What if it’s a generational thing?

What if I’m destined for the same fate—to being an asshole to my kids the way my father is to the four of us? I don’t remember him being like this until I was an adult, but the truth is, maybe I was too blind to see it.

If it’s a cycle, I’ll break it, because the last thing I want is to turn out anything like him.

“Look, Asher, I like living with you. We have fun together, don’t we? I know you just got started on a new season, and I’m sure that’s where this is stemming from. Don’t make me uproot my entire life because you’re in flux right now.”

Is he right? I’m back to the question at hand, and that’s whether I want to settle here in Vegas. It’s part of why we live together anyway. I’m in the third year of a three-year contract, and while I know my brother will fight for me to stay here if this is where I want to be, there are absolutely no guarantees.

Is Vegas where I want to end up?

I don’t think it’s something I need to decide right now. I can always rent, and that’s probably what makes the most sense.

But I do know one thing for certain. I don’t want to live with my dad anymore.

“You’re right,” I finally say, and he grins as he nods at my acknowledgment that he’s right.

His face falls, however, on my next statement.

“I don’t want to uproot your whole life, so you stay here. I’ll move out.” I press my lips together and nod my head resolutely, and then I walk out of the room and head upstairs to start packing.

I don’t have any clue where I’m going to go, but it feels right to get the fuck out of here.

Practice the next day is brutal—likely because I didn’t rest up the way I should have. I’m off my game, and Coach Dixon walks over to the tight ends before practice is over. “Coach Bruce, I’d like a word in my office with you and Asher after practice.”

With Coach Bruce and me ? I must’ve fucked up in practice more than I realized.

This is two days in a row that Coach Dixon wants to see me in his office. We had a quick meeting yesterday with a nice heart-to-heart about Terry Lawrence beating the shit out of me, so I can’t imagine what today might be about.

Coach Bruce is already in the office when I walk in after my shower. I sort of wish for the first time that I would’ve brought more reserved clothes to slip into after practice, but in my defense, I’m hardly ever called into a superior’s office after practice.

And today, it’s dinosaurs.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Coach Bruce asks.

“Dinosaurs, obviously,” Coach Dixon says.

I laugh, though Coach Dixon is one of the few people who doesn’t mock my sense of style. His daughter, too, come to think of it.

If anything, I think she likes it. I think she likes me .

Fuck, this is complicated.

“Before you both start in on me, I wanted to say that I’m sorry I was awful at practice today. I’m just—”

Exhausted after the sex in my truck last night?

It’s not like I can say that.

Coach Dixon holds up a hand before I can continue, thankfully.

“Did you have a bit of an off day today? Yes. You also had some good catches. And your footwork drills were phenomenal. It’s to be expected after what Terry put you through yesterday, and Andy is talking with him today,” he says, referring to the defensive coordinator. “I called you both in because I wanted to talk about what’s been going on in the locker room. Hopefully the Terry situation will fix itself, but I wanted to talk to you about Xavier Thomas mouthing off to Jaxon Bryant."

“To me?” I ask, pointing at my own chest.

He nods. “We have a rookie fullback acting superior to a veteran running back, and you fall somewhere right in the middle. In terms of leadership, I think you might be the right person to tackle this…no pun intended. And I wanted Bruce in here so he’s aware of what’s going on.”

My brows crinkle. “What do you want me to do?”

“I talked with Coach Nash, and we decided to institute a more formal mentoring program. And Bruce, I’d like you to keep an eye out for other pairs that might be able to take advantage of this new resource.”

Coach Bruce nods.

“What exactly will this entail?” I ask.

“I’m so glad you asked. I want it to be whatever you want it to be. I want the focus to be guidance on events taking place off the field. I want you to build this program.”

“Me?” I ask, pointing to my own chest.

He nods. “You want a leadership role? Prove that you’re a leader. Get a basic outline for what you’re thinking on my desk by next Wednesday.”

My jaw slackens. “You…you trust me with that?”

He nods. “I do. Your brother does. Coach Andy does, too. Don’t let us down.”

“I promise I won’t,” I say.

This feels big, and it feels good.

Coach Bruce stays behind to talk with Coach Dixon, and I head home, already brainstorming some ideas on the way.

And when I get home, my dad is at the kitchen table playing poker with that same group of friends. I bypass them and head upstairs to my bedroom to get some more work done, but when the smell of cigars wafts up from downstairs, I’ve had more than enough.

I pack a suitcase with the essentials plus clothes for the next few days, and I sneak out the front door before my dad can stop me.

I drive to Grayson’s place, and I call him on the way.

“Brochacho!” he answers.

“Hey. Can I stay with you for a few days?”

“Of course, but may I ask why?”

“I have some work to do, and Dad’s in the kitchen playing poker and smoking cigars.”

“Did you tell him about the place we found?” he asks, not sounding surprised in the least by our dad’s actions.

“I did, and it went over like a lead balloon. So new plan. We find me a place to live, and we let him stay.”

“Jesus, man,” he mutters. “Why are we so dedicated to appeasing him?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, and the truth is, I hate it. But I do have an inkling as to why we do it. “Because he’s our dad, and he instilled this forced sense of loyalty to family.”

“Worked out for you since I’m letting you crash with me for a few days,” he says.

I laugh. “Maybe you can help me with my new project, too. You know, since you have all that free time after retiring.”

He snorts. “I’m still at the bakery, for what it’s worth. I think I have less free time now than I did when I was playing.”

“Bring me home some cookies.”

“Will do. You know the code, so let yourself in. We should be home in a couple hours.” He pauses, and then he asks, “What’s the new project?”

“Coach Dixon asked me to head up a new one-on-one mentorship program with rookies. He wants an outline on his desk next week.”

“That’s incredible, Ash. What are you thinking?”

I launch into all the ideas that have been brewing in my head since Coach asked me to do this. Life in the league, building relationships with teammates, managing time commitments, commitment to the game, dealing with fame while staying grounded, even avoiding temptation while knowing what to look for when it comes to personal relationships.

He tells me he’s on board to help me, and I’m excited about this new opportunity as well as the trust Coach is giving me by handing it over to me.

I get to work at Grayson’s kitchen table as soon as I walk through the doors. I’m focused on the task at hand, breaking only to order dinner and eating it once it arrives while I work.

I shut everything else out, but when a text comes through from Desiree shortly before I know I need to head to bed, I can’t ignore it.

I do, however, stare at it for a long, long time.

Desiree: Hope you had a good day. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking about you.

I contemplate what to say in reply.

I’ve never done this. I’ve never been in a relationship, and I don’t know how to handle myself.

I want to choose her with everything in me, but Coach Dixon just gave me this new responsibility, and I feel torn.

I can't lie to him when he's putting trust in me. I can’t let him down when he’s giving me the chance I’ve been looking for in the locker room.

Football first. It’s how I was raised, and I can’t see any other way out of it.

I think my only option is to start pulling back.

The mere thought of pulling back all the way sends a deep pang of despair through my stomach. I don't want to cut off contact with her, but I also don't know how to keep seeing her and maintain my coach’s trust in me.

I'd love to explore where this could go because I've never met anyone like her. I don't know that anyone exists like her that could fulfill me in the sort of way she has in the short time we've known each other, but I don't know that I have it in me to continue betraying someone who is intent on giving me his trust.

And so I keep my reply simple for now so I can focus on everything else until I can come to some conclusion about what to do.

Me: Practice was brutal. I have some things I need to take care of, so I probably won't be able to meet up before you head back.

I hit send and wish I felt some relief after sending that message, but all I feel is sadness.