CHAPTER 27 LINCOLN

I glance at my phone screen and click to decline the incoming call from my father.

I'm in another pointless meeting with Mike where we're clashing over the playbook again. Andy's here, too, but he knows his defense is solid. He didn't lose as many players on defense as Mike lost on offense.

I've lost count of how many times I've had to play the I'm the head coach card in the last week, but our first Organized Team Activities start Monday, and we have just a few more days to finalize our playbook ahead of that. Given that the playbook is a living document, we can add and take away plays as we work through them, but my goal is to have the majority of the creation completed ahead of OTAs.

Next week will be filled with meetings, drills, and walking through the plays, but the real fun of it is seeing our team dynamic for the first time. The first week is voluntary, but the whole point of OTAs is for players to get to know the playbook as they prepare for the upcoming season.

And since we've made some changes to the playbook, there are some new things our guys will need to learn.

I'm particularly excited for our walkthroughs to give me the chance to see what each play will look like in real time. It's one thing to imagine these plays in my mind as I draft them up. It's another to see them played out by real people, even if OTAs are non-contact.

"I know you're the head coach, man, but my playbook last year was proven. How can you keep questioning that?" Mike whines.

Maybe he's not whining. It sounds like whining to me, though.

"It worked with the players you had last year. It's as simple as that." I shrug at the end a little flippantly, waiting for him to shut the fuck up.

"But you're not on top of Andy the way you're on top of me," he points out.

"Right. Because Andy didn't lose his key players. We know the defensive plays will work, and we're constantly adding and updating." I really shouldn't have to defend myself nor my decisions to Mike.

"Then let's keep both," he suggests. "A compromise. We keep my plays and you add new ones."

"So our rookies are forced to learn over six hundred new plays?" I shake my head. "No. Absolutely not. How's this for a compromise? You cut yours in half, and we add mine."

"That's fucking ridiculous, man," Mike says, shaking his head with disgust.

I blow out a breath and turn my attention back to my tablet. "I don't have time for arguments. I've sent you the list of the ones I think are outdated or won't work for our offense this year." I can't help but think that if he's giving me a hard time about the playbook, he's going to give me a hard time on every other aspect of play, too. Once we're on the field, he's going to have strong opinions about play calling and strategy, and when it's time to make a snap decision on the field, I'll have to go with my gut. Not his.

"Fine," he eventually mutters, and he storms out of my office.

I glance over at Andy. "Anything else?"

He shakes his head and raises his brows.

"What?" I ask.

"You sure cutting all those plays is a good move?" he asks.

"I'm not sure keeping Mike around was a good move," I admit.

He twists his lips and nods a little. "You know, butting heads with him might be a good thing. It's only showing you're both passionate about winning even if you have different ideas on how you're going to get to that goal."

"Yeah, I know you're right. It's still frustrating as fuck, though." I glance up at Andy. "Thanks, man. I appreciate the pep talk. You ready for Monday?"

He nods. "I've got my coaches all lined up and ready for their position meetings."

I mutter something about how that's great and dismiss him, and on his way out, I ask him to shut the door.

And then I call my father back.

I suck in a deep breath before I click the button, reminding myself I can do this.

I can lie to him.

I just hope he doesn't bring up Jolene. I'm not prepared to handle questions about her, particularly not from my father and particularly not when it's been four days since I last saw her.

"Hey, Dad," I answer.

"Lincoln, what a surprise. You actually called me back."

I chuckle at the dig even though I don't find it funny. "I'm a busy guy. What can I do for you?"

"With the exciting news of your brother and you landing on the same team at the same time, your mother and I have decided to get a place in Vegas. We'll be coming out this weekend to look at houses and would love to see you while we're in town."

Oh fuck.

Fuck no.

No no no.

I shake my head. Could things get any worse? I'm already hiding my relationship with Jolene and fearing he'll find out when he's a solid twenty-five hundred miles away. I can't imagine the anxiety I'll feel having him in the same damn town as the two of us.

It's only going to make it harder for us.

And maybe that'll be the test that proves whether we belong together or not.

I pull open my calendar on my tablet. "Yeah, I have an event Saturday evening but I can get together around lunchtime."

"Sounds great. And if we find something by lunchtime, we'll take you to see it."

Great. Just don't get one too close to my place.

We exchange more pleasantries before we end the call, and I call my little brother next.

"What's up, Coach?" he answers.

"You know Mom and Dad are buying a place here in Vegas?"

"Fuck," he mutters.

I laugh. "You don't want them to?"

"Cramping my style? No thanks. But Mom always said if two of her boys landed in the same place, she'd do it. I just didn't believe she'd actually follow through."

"Neither did I," I admit.

"Well, thanks for the warning, I guess. We can work together to fend them off."

I suppose he's right. But I may need more help with that than he'd ever imagine.