Hello Quarterback (Hello #8)

14. Ford

14

FORD

My muscles felt rawer than a freezer burnt steak when Coach ended practice. Part of me welcomed the fatigue, knowing this was part of being the best. Success rarely felt like effortlessly flying on clouds; it felt like hard work, sore muscles, and being so tired you fell asleep before your head hit the pillow at night.

After five years playing on a college team and the same amount of time on a professional team, I understood that fact. Pain came with the territory.

I stumbled to the locker room, showered off, then went to one of the facility’s small recovery rooms with an ice bath and a television. I left the TV off, instead playing a podcast episode on my phone, an interview with Kobe Bryant about Mamba Mentality. His mindset made me feel understood in a way, inspired in another. Even though we didn’t play the same sport, we played the same game.

I stripped out of my towel, put on swim trunks, and stepped on the platform leading to the pool of circulating ice water. The movement made sure there was no hot spot around my inflamed muscles.

Knowing it was going to sting like a bitch, I sucked in a breath and stepped in before I could second-guess myself. The best way to get through something hard was to face it. Avoiding pain only added to the length of time you’d suffer—once with anticipation and another time when the challenge actually arrived.

The water felt like needles against my skin, and my heart and lungs constricted like the water was so cold the breath had frozen inside me.

I forced myself to take deep, calming breaths while focusing on the podcast.

If I could control my nervous system in frigid water, I could control it on the field when it mattered most.

If I could sit through this pain, my muscles would heal faster, get stronger.

I would master myself, body and mind.

I sank all the way down to my chin, letting the water swirl around me. Surprisingly, being doused in ice water felt awfully similar to seeing Hayden French’s bouquet in Mia’s office.

I knew we couldn’t date for real—I had my goals to focus on and she her company—but the thought of him getting any closer to her... I clenched my fists, trying to think of something else and landing back on Mia.

The delivery people told me she’d chosen the sunflower arrangement... and instead of letting them discard the bouquets, she asked that they be delivered to an assisted-living community.

My heart clenched at the knowledge.

I was already having a hard time not looking forward to our date, even though this was all fake.

The podcast rose in volume with the host’s exclamation, and I realized I hadn’t heard a word they’d been saying. I swore at myself under my breath.

This was just one of many reasons why I’d instated my no-dating policy. I couldn’t even focus on a personal development podcast episode without my fake girlfriend taking over my mind—imagine a relationship that was real.

A knock came on the door, and I looked over, seeing the shoulder of a suit through the window.

“Yeah?” I called out.

The door opened, and Trent Reynolds walked in, black leather boots clacking on the cement floor. He wore the smile of a snake oil salesman about to make bank. “Ford,” he said. He tapped on my phone to silence it.

I dipped my head. “Mr. Reynolds. I feel a bit underdressed.”

The old man chuckled roughly. “Make sure you always have the upper hand, Madigan. That’s something my father taught me.”

Trent had clearly taken the lesson to heart. “How can I help you?” My chest already felt like sinking, and I had to remind myself to breathe. To stay calm. This was all a play, whether it happened on the field or not.

“My daughter has a charity event this weekend, and unless you’re otherwise occupied?—”

“Actually, I have a date with my girlfriend this weekend,” I said.

His lips pursed. The silence he left us in was far more uncomfortable than the freezing cold water.

Finally, I realized he was waiting for me to speak. “We’ve tried to be discreet until now to keep her out of the fans’ way—you know how... protective they can be. But it seems I’ve been sending the wrong message about my availability. I assure you, I’m taken.”

He twisted his lips to the side like he was tasting the bitter news. “Who is she?”

Something in his eyes made me want to protect her, shield her from him knowing her name. But this was part of the agreement. So I forced my voice to remain strong, the best defensive line I could offer. “Mia Baird. Griffen Industries CEO.”

I saw the lightbulb hit his eyes. “Her?”

Something about the surprised, dismissive way he said it made my fists clench underwater. Even as a father, he had to know his daughter had no chance when it came to a woman like Mia. “She’s an accomplished woman who worked her way up to the company’s highest position from the ground floor. We have quite a bit in common that way.”

“Isn’t she a little...” He hesitated, and I could only imagine what he planned to say next.

“Tread carefully, sir,” I warned. “We wouldn’t want to say something that couldn’t be taken back.”

His gaze narrowed under carefully groomed gray eyebrows. “You are nothing like the quarterbacks I’ve known.”

I lifted my chin. “I’m better,” I said. We both knew it was the truth. And at the end of this season, I’d have the ring to prove it.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll expect to see Ms. Baird at our team dinner. Not as a stand-in for my daughter, but as your date. I don’t take kindly to lies, young man. Because if time’s taught me anything, it’s that talent can always be replaced.”

I dipped my head in understanding while fighting a shiver.

He turned on his heel and left the room, and finally, the shivers broke out, making the water tremble around me.

This was serious and nothing I could back out of now. Everyone had to believe that what I had with Mia was real. And tonight’s date would be the time to prove it.