by Lea Coll
Lexie pulled into the parking lot and parked by a field where players were already running plays. “You’re something else, Gavin Keller.”
She smiled her megawatt smile at me before she opened the door, stepping out. I took a second to pull myself together. It wasn’t lost on me that I’d told Lexie more about my life than I’d ever revealed to anyone. It should have left me feeling exposed, but it didn’t. I opened the door and walked with her onto the field.
She paused before we reached the coach and said softly, “I’m here to watch and observe. I won’t interfere or ask any questions, I promise.”
“I wasn’t worried.” At least, not anymore. Initially, I was wary about talking to a reporter. After our discussion, I knew she wouldn’t betray me. She wanted to get to know me. Most reporters thought they knew me. They thought I was jealous of my brother or worried I’d never be as good as my dad. They wanted me to verify whatever conclusion they’d come up with in their head.
I’d talked to Coach Kipps on the phone, so he knew we were coming. I introduced myself and Lexie, promising that nothing would be reported without his consent. “At the first practice, I liked to observe, throw a few balls, and let the kids talk to me. Do you mind if I throw some balls?”
“Not at all,” Coach Kipps said.
I moved over to a group of three kids lobbing the ball back and forth to warm up their arms. “You mind if I join you?”
Their answer was a ball thrown in my direction. After we warmed up, Coach Kipps ran them through some drills. I helped set things up and answered any questions Coach sent my way. When they lined up to run a few plays, I walked over to Lexie and stood next to her.
There was an energy on the field today I’d never felt before. Maybe it was because I was wearing a professional versus a college jersey. For the first time, I felt pride in what I’d accomplished. I saw myself the way the boys saw me.
“Mr. Keller?” A younger boy ran up to me.
“It’s Gavin.” I wanted them to think of me as a regular guy, not some unapproachable football star.
“Gavin, do you think I could make it in the big leagues?”
The boy was small. It would be harder for him than other boys who were naturally larger. “I don’t see why not if you lift weights, eat right, work hard, and listen to your coach. I’ll send you a work-out regimen to increase mass and a suggested food list. What you eat before and after a work-out are important.”
“That would be awesome. Thanks!” Then he ran off again before I could ask him for his email. I’d send it to Coach to give to him.
We watched the kids line up for the next drill.
Lexie tilted her head slightly as she considered me. “I said I wouldn’t ask any questions, but do you always go out of your way to help them like that?”
“Yes, if they want my help. Some kids think they’ll make it on their own or that they’re so talented they don’t need help. Others want advice. It opens up a dialogue between us so I can keep in touch. I clear it with the coach and parents first, of course. When they’re older, I’ll talk to them about what college recruitment is like, what they’ll need to do, and how to prepare. I saw my brother go through it, so I didn’t need that help. Most kids don’t have anyone to ask.”
She smiled as if what I’d said was perfect. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. I wasn’t unique. “I know you want to make me out to be this amazing guy, but I’m not. I’m doing what anyone would do.”
“Look, I’ve been around enough professional athletes to know that’s not true. I hope you stay humble because if so—”
“If so, what?” What was she going to say?
Her cheeks flushed as she shook her head.
“Alright, boys hustle up. Gavin Keller wanted to talk to you before practice is over.”
I gave her a second to see if she’d finish what she was going to say, instead, she pointed at the kids who waited expectantly for me.
I moved to stand in front of them. “Not all of you want to play football beyond high school, and that’s okay. Some of you want to take it further and play college ball. Maybe you even have dreams of professional. Most guys don’t come from a family of professional football players. Some lived on the streets, some were raised by a single parent, or even a grandparent. Some had help, but the majority didn’t. If you work hard, anything is possible. Keep your grades up so that you can keep playing football. Eat right before and after practices to stay strong. Listen to your coach, respect your teammates, play hard.”
I paused, taking in their rapt attention. “It’s not as simple as it sounds. You’ll be tempted by parties, alcohol, drugs, friends, and relationships. There will be times when you want to quit, when you want to take the easy way out. It’s the guys who handle the distractions, knowing when it’s okay to go out and have some fun and when it’s time to rest for the game the next day. The ones who keep their head down and work hard make it. The ones who complain that the referee threw the game, that they were unfairly benched, that so and so got the position because of who he knows, who’ll bring the team down, and ultimately himself.” I let my words sink in, hoping some of the cockier kids listened.
“I’ll be back as much as I can be during the season. If you want to ask me a question, Coach Kipps will get it to me. I’ll be following your season. Good luck.”
The kids were silent. Some looked at me in awe. A few looked bored. There were always kids who thought they didn’t need anyone else’s advice because they were blessed with talent. Initially, I only wanted to reach the kids who were eager for help, now the challenge was reaching those kids who didn’t. I wasn’t just coaching these kids in football, but in life. These were lessons that would serve them well in school, sports, in a job, and their relationships.
Chapter 5
Lexie
“Thank Mr. Keller for coming today,” Coach Kipps said.
I watched Gavin high-five each teen. The contrast between Gavin at training practice and here at the high school was striking. He’d gone from aloof to warm and outgoing. He’d observed each teen before stepping in to throw a ball or offer a critique of technique when necessary. He wasn’t bothered by their questions, no matter how ridiculous or unrelated to football they were. He’d gently bring their focus back to practice, emphasizing how vital concentration was, not only in football but in school.
After Gavin’s talk to the kids, the team broke off and threw balls back and forth.
Someone yelled to get out of the way, and I turned to see what the problem was. A ball was headed straight for us, a player running toward us, with a defender crossing the field to intercept him. Gavin pushed me out of the way. He wrapped me up in his strong arms, one hand cradling the back of my head. Holding me tight to his chest so I wouldn’t fall, I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent and tried not to focus on his fingers in my hair or his steel arm around my waist.
The boy caught the ball as he ran past, yelling, “Sorry about that,” before joining the others again.
“Are you okay?” Gavin’s head tipped down, bringing us close. If I lifted my chin, his lips would be on mine.
Was I? I kept my eyes on his chest. My heart was beating hard, my breath was shallow, and every part of my body touching Gavin was tingling. The scare had me lightheaded and slightly confused. When I finally glanced up, his blue eyes were sharp, filled with concern for me. It was disconcerting having that focus on me. “I think so.”
His body blocked me from everyone’s eyes. I was in a Gavin-cocoon. He didn’t let go of me right away, his one hand cupping my head, the other traveled lightly over my shoulders, my arms, and my waist, as if searching for possible injuries.
I forced myself to take a step back out of his arms and smiled. “I’m fine.”
His eyes traveled from the top of my head to my feet before he nodded. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” The last thing I wanted was to be near Gavin in my car before I’d calmed my racing heart or caught my bre
ath. The roaring in my ears that started when someone yelled move had eased to a dull rumble. Coach Kipps shook my hand and apologized for the near tackle.
I rolled back my shoulders, engaging my reporter smile to cover the effect Gavin had on me. I told myself my physical response was pure adrenaline from the near-collision, not from being in Gavin’s arms, warm and protected.
“I’d love to come with Gavin next time if that’s okay,” I asked.
“No stories run without my approval and no cameras,” Coach Kipps said.
“Of course.” I may be a reporter, but I’d never want to violate the trust I’d formed with Gavin and Coach Kipps.
Trust and relationships in my business were more important than getting the first story. If I had a reputation of going back on my word, no one would talk to me again. “Thank you so much for allowing us to come this morning,” I said.
“Good luck with the season. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be back as soon as my schedule allows.” Gavin held his hand out.
Coach Kipps shook Gavin’s hand. He was silent as if he was mulling over what to say. “You’re nothing like I thought you’d be. When you called, asking to stop by, I thought, you’d bring a couple of jerseys, talk for a minute about your accomplishments, then leave.”
“That’s not my style.” Gavin’s eyes pinched.
I knew he hated that assumption about him. He wanted to keep this part of him private, but he had to know that doing so allowed people to make unfair assumptions about him as a person.
Gavin promised to be back soon and headed to my car.
We paused by my car doors. Gavin met my eyes over the roof.
“If you’re going to be tagging along in the future, we’re taking my SUV. I can barely fit into this tiny box.”
Warmth flooded me. I’d assumed this was a one-time deal. I bit my lip to hide the smile that threatened to take over my face as I opened my door. “I’m fine with that.”
Early Saturday mornings stuck in the car with Gavin Keller. Yes, please. More of that. More of him. Getting to know the man under the pads was satisfying, yet a hunger broke out over my skin to know more. I craved his arms around me and his lips on mine.
My mind ran wild with what I’d experienced in the last few minutes. I needed to refocus on work and why we were here. We rode in silence for a few minutes before I remembered I wanted to talk about his demeanor in practice. Maybe I should explain it from my perspective. “I’m young for a sideline reporter job.”
He raised his brow, not interrupting.
“Some say I got the job because of my looks and maybe my background in pageants, but if you believe that, then you don’t know anything about me. You don’t know how I met Clay Porter in college. How we became fast friends and he taught me what I needed to know from a player’s perspective. He’s the one who told me to come to Seattle’s practices and press conferences before there was even a hint of a job opening. He told me to observe and develop relationships with the guys. Make my presence known so when I ran into the general manager or a member of the broadcasting team, I’d be prepared.”
“Were you?” Gavin asked quietly.
I could feel his gaze on the side of my face. I smiled at the memory. “I was. I’d prepared statements for anyone I thought I might run into in the organization that mattered.
“One day, I was in the elevator with the general manager, Todd Boyer, and he’d asked how I was. I said fine but I also explained how I was committed to bringing more female fans to the organization. We already know how rabid female fans can be, but a recent study ranked Seattle last.”
“What did he say?”
I smiled over at him. “He asked how I proposed to fix it. I couldn’t believe it. The most powerful man in the Seattle front office was asking my opinion. I outlined a multi-dimensional program targeting women through commercials, merchandise, and events at the stadium during and off-season.”
“That’s impressive.”
I felt Gavin’s gaze on the side of my face. “He must have thought so. He asked that I forward the details to him as soon as possible. Each time I saw him after that, he’d question my approach and offer suggestions. I was at a press conference where he was standing next to my current manager, Adam Kaufman. Todd introduced us, telling him I had great ideas for the organization. So, when the sideline reporter job opened up, Adam asked me to apply.”
“It paid off.”
I looked over at him, seeing respect for me in his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve learned that if you want something you have to prepare for it. It’s similar to football, but in my business, relationships are everything. If I’d been too afraid to say more than I’m fine when Todd talked to me, or if I hadn’t prepared a statement ahead of time, I would have missed an incredible opportunity to show him who I was. My point is that your job is similar.”
“How so?” Gavin leaned forward.
“Skills and hard work are important, but what makes a player stand out is leadership abilities.” I turned up the vent for the air-conditioning. Gavin’s intense focus on me was making me hot.
Gavin shifted in his seat. “And what might impress them?”
I couldn’t tell from his tone if I was overstepping. “I would think a desire to help others, a word of encouragement to a discouraged teammate, a pep talk when the team is down, and a consistent presence on the field.”
“You’re saying I’m not like that now.” His words were measured.
I didn’t want what I had to say to come across as a criticism. “Gavin, you’re so focused at practice, but you’re not friendly. From what I saw today, you’re a leader. You just need to show that on the field. You don’t have to be a veteran to stand up. The coaches are looking for signs of leadership skills even in training camp.”
Gavin looked out the window. “I see what you’re saying.”
“The leaders are hard to replace because it’s not just your football skills. It’s a feeling when the team steps onto the field—a cohesiveness or an energy.”
I looked at him worried I’d pissed him off, but he was deep in thought as if considering my words. “Don’t forget you told that scout how you were different, now show them they weren’t wrong in choosing you.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up when Gavin’s focus shifted to me.
“You’re a skilled, motivational speaker. You know that?” His tone was reverent, not sarcastic.
I sighed, relieved he wasn’t mad. “I just call it how I see it.”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that, but you’re right. I am so focused on my performance. I hadn’t thought about the leadership aspect. I figured that was the veterans’ role.”
He was quiet for a few minutes, probably thinking about what we’d just discussed, but I couldn’t get something out of my head. When I’d asked about whether he had someone to spend his off time with, he hadn’t answered. Was that on purpose? I wondered if it would be nosy to ask him again. I ignored the fact that I wanted to know for personal reasons, not as a reporter.
I chewed my lip and sneaked a glance in his direction. He seemed relaxed. “Earlier, I asked whether you had someone to spend the day off with, a girlfriend or family member, but you didn’t answer.”
When he didn’t respond immediately, I looked at him again. His expression was pained. “My parents are supportive and will come to the first game. I’m sure they’ll split the games between Jake and me. There aren’t any skeletons in my closet if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I bet your parents are proud to have two sons on professional teams.” The fans would love it if his family came to the games often to support him.
He was quiet for a few seconds. “They are but I can’t help but think Jake is the one my dad’s most proud of. Dad’s never said anything. It’s just something I feel.”
“Ah. Your brother is the star.” The more time I spent with Gavin, the clearer the picture I was getting of him.
“That’s right. I
was good in high school and better in college. I was never the star of any team. I want to contribute more. I want to make myself indispensable to the team.”
“That’s commendable.” He still hadn’t answered my question about having a girlfriend yet. Either he was keeping her identity a secret or he didn’t have one.
“Girlfriends were tough when I was following in Jake’s footsteps. In high school, they came onto me only after my brother was done with them or rejected them. I didn’t figure that out right away. I was flattered by the attention until I overheard my girlfriend at the time talking about how she was banging the less successful brother, but at least it was still a Keller.”
I cringed.
“So, you can see why I don’t trust easily.”
“That makes sense. What about college, though? You and your brother went to different universities. Did things change for you?”
“By college, I’d decided to focus on football, not let the groupies distract me.”
“You didn’t date at all?” This was quickly crossing into personal territory, but I couldn’t stop the words flying out of my mouth.
“I dated a little in college, nothing serious. I have no plans to date during my first season.” He looked at me when he delivered that last line and my face felt hot.
Did he think I was interested? No matter how attractive he was, I should set him straight. “I don’t date football players.”
“Did you have a bad experience with a football player?”
I pulled into the facility’s parking lot and parked. “You could say that. I dated the quarterback in college. Clay told me not to. Said it would make things awkward when it didn’t work out.”
“Did it?”
“You could say that. I was arm candy to him—a conquest apparently. I thought it was something serious, but I completely misjudged the situation. So, no football players for me.”
I should have felt relieved. Neither one of us wanted to date. I could ignore this attraction to him, keep our relationship professional.
