The Quarterback: A New Adult Sports Romance ~ Landyn (The Rookies Book 1)

by Zoë Lane

  The man raised a brow and gave an appreciative nod. “Well, you’ve got great reflexes.”

  “Thank you,” I said stiffly.

  He dipped his head once and then walked down the bleacher steps and back onto the sideline. I tried to regret my tone; he was only the messenger.

  “That was nice of him, to see how you are,” Helena said from behind me.

  I snorted. “Sounded like he was complimenting himself while apologizing,” I said as Helena and I continued down the bleachers.

  “You’re saying he was disingenuous.”

  “I’m saying he probably wanted me to know that was a lucky catch given how great a thrower he is.”

  Helena laughed lightly. “You need to get laid. Probably could have Landyn if your nose wasn’t so high in the air.”

  My jaw dropped. “Can you be any louder?” I hissed, my eyes darting around the crowd to count the number of people listening. I didn’t make eye contact with any.

  And my nose wasn’t high in the air. I was just stating what was rationally, probably, likely a fact.

  And my first time wouldn’t be with a guy like Landyn Gallagher. I wanted a real connection with someone I could trust with my heart and…ugh, I’m too much a romantic.

  “That catch really upped your confidence. Or was it Landyn’s attention?” She sent a sly grin.

  I kept my head down until we were away from the crowd and inside the building. “Rochelle Hardison is experienced at the college level, but she’s never managed a team,” I said, hoping Helena would forget both Landyn and my need for sex.

  Which didn’t exist.

  My need.

  “And she’s the first female general manager in the NFL. Quite impressive,” Helena added.

  “If you’re talking about me, then thank you.”

  Helena and I both turned to see Rochelle walking behind us. Either she was a ninja or had magic powers that enabled her to appear out of thin air.

  “I saw you catch that ball, Rose. You didn’t tell me you played football.” She laughed lightly and leaned in for a hug.

  I hugged her back. “Rochelle, we were just looking for you. This is Helena Grady, my colleague.”

  Helena and Rochelle shook hands. “Ah, my sister told me you were successful in interviewing with…” Her brows bushed.

  “MacCallister, Wembly, and Poach,” Helena finished.

  Rochelle smiled, her face relaxing. “That’s it. Crisis management. Good for you, Rose. I’m so proud.”

  “Thank you,” I said, still nervous over having walked right by her trying to get away from the field.

  “I’m sure you won’t need our services at all, but we thought we’d stop by, watch a bit of the training, and leave a card, just in case,” Helena pitched. She held out a card. “I’m sure you have a PR firm at the ready, but we specialize in…unique and complicated cases that require delicacy and discretion, if you know what I mean?”

  Rochelle nodded. “I do, in fact. I appreciate you two stopping by.” She tucked the card in the pocket of her black suit jacket. “We do have a PR firm but…you never know when you’ll need…more.”

  Helena’s thin lips smiled almost diabolically. “More. Exactly.” She wagged her brows at me once. Mission accomplished. “We won’t take any more of your time. Thanks, again.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I blurted and followed it with a shaky smile. Rochelle squeezed my shoulder, gave me a smile, and was gone. I released a heavy breath.

  “Overwhelmed?” Helena asked, her eyes scanning my face, probably for any hint of weakness.

  “Not quite. More…whelmed.” I’d have to pick more current movies to snag lines from.

  Helena smirked. “You’ll get used to the selling aspect of our job. It’s all about confidence and presenting our services in a way that—”

  “Offers a solution before they can even ask a question.”

  Her smirk turned into a grin. “Now I believe you’re learning instead of just memorizing.”

  Impressing the Ice Queen twice in one day? Unheard of. I’d be the envy of all the interns at the office when I told them.

  “So after this, we go back to the office and draft…a proposal?” I asked. We continued through the hallway that ended at the front lobby.

  “Exactly. We now know they’ve finished shopping for potential PR firms, but since we’re crisis management, what we offer is different, and they’ll want to have us on retainer. But don’t worry, you won’t be drafting it.”

  “I’d like to,” I offered quickly.

  Helena’s auburn brows arched. “Jumping into the deep end on your first lesson.”

  “I like a challenge.”

  “You want to prove yourself, you mean,” she said with a knowing smile. “I was just like you when I joined the firm. Good. Then you’ll draft it. We’ll see what you’re really made of. You’re already an honorary wide receiver for the Richmond Rhinos. What else can you do well?” She winked.

  I pretended not to pick up on the innuendo.

  And I refused to think about Landyn.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LANDYN

  Four Months Later

  “You could have told me you were going out last night. I would’ve come.”

  I gave Casper a scowl. “What?” He was doing that annoying thing with his eyes, making them all big and round, his mouth forming a passive-aggressive frown. With my left knee and hand steady on the weight bench, I reached for the fifty-pound dumbbell next to it on the gym floor.

  “I saw your Insta. You and Nico? Douching it up with some chicks.”

  I grunted and began pulsing the weight, feeling it in my delts and back. I let out a groan and continued past my reps, all so I wouldn’t have to have this conversation.

  Until I dropped the weight.

  Can’t lift it forever.

  I sighed and collapsed on the bench, holding my right pec. “What are you saying, Cas? You jealous I have more than one friend?” Nicolas Langetti was the kind of guy who’d be friends with everyone because he could think of something to get from them—someone Cas would never respect.

  Cas’s eyes clouded and his lips firmed. “You can have as many friends as you want. It has nothing to do with that.”

  “Then what? Tell me, so I can get back to my workout.”

  Cas stared at me for a few seconds. A few long seconds. Long enough for bumps to form on my sweaty arms. He had a way of reading me without saying a word.

  Or maybe that was my conscience telling me I should feel some guilt for purposely not inviting Cas out with me and Nico. ’Cause I had done it on purpose. ’Cause I knew he would’ve started this conversation right at the exact moment I wanted to forget it all for just a second.

  “Landyn, talk to me, man.”

  “About what?” I snapped.

  “You never drink,” he said quietly. “That’s something your dad did.”

  I wondered when he was going to bring that up. He’d been sitting on it for months. I was beginning to think it wasn’t a big deal to him. “Look, I had one beer, okay? It’s not a crime.”

  “In that picture maybe. But what about the night before? The weekend before that?”

  Thankfully he didn’t go through my entire summer schedule. It started easy enough, until I’d gotten to know the guys some. They liked to party, and I’m their leader. “I’m in control Casper.” I stood toe-to-toe with him. “And I’m not my father.”

  “Never said you were.”

  My hands fisted by my sides. “Then why bring him up?”

  “Because he’s the reason behind everything you do. At least, that’s what you’ve always said. So…if it’s not about him, then what? And why won’t you tell me?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I said, slowly enough so he’d understand.

  Casper shrugged and backed away a few steps, but I saw the hurt in his eyes. “Fine. You don’t have to tell me, but you’re gonna tell Coach. He’s looking for you.”

  “Landyn!�
��

  Coach Hicks walked into the gym. Perfect timing.

  I raised my hand to signal. “Thanks for the heads-up,” I muttered.

  I jogged up to the coach, who also had a frown on his face. What the hell? “Coach?”

  “The GM wants to see you.”

  “About?” I said without budging. Coach Hicks had already walked through the door and it was closing on me. I slipped through the crack and continued after him.

  “I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Landyn. She’s not happy with your performance.”

  “What? In practice?” No way. Over the last four months I’d seen growth that I hadn’t had in nearly a year. I busted my ass in every practice. Every. Single. One. “Coach, but you said—”

  “Off the field, Landyn. Your face is in the tabloids again.”

  Frustrated, I let out a half-sigh, half-grunt. What did she expect? Paparazzi were following us everywhere, especially with our first game a couple of weeks away.

  “She has a right to be concerned.”

  “Before we’ve even played a single game?”

  Coach Hicks paused at the door to the GM’s office. He gave me a firm yet slightly sympathetic look. “Yes, Landyn. I know you’re new to this, but you’re not naive. One player can be the face of an organization, and that face—”

  “Can’t be ugly,” I finished for him, with a grin. “I think I’ve got that covered.”

  “Cute,” he said dryly, then opened the door.

  The GM didn’t greet us, and I didn’t offer a greeting either. Now I wished I’d opened up to Casper, if for no other reason than to get my story straight coming out of my mouth. Whatever. I had this.

  I took a seat at one head of the conference table while Coach stood next to the GM at the table’s midpoint. The GM held a magazine in her hand, the kind you’d find at the register of a grocery store.

  I saw myself slide across the conference table until I was right under my own nose. Another shot of me and some hot girl, whose name I couldn’t remember, but I could absolutely recall how her ass cheeks had fit in my hands when—

  “Landyn!”

  My eyes shot up from the picture of myself holding a beer in one hand with a girl up over my shoulder at the opening of a club that I’d definitely be back at this weekend. The DJ’s sets were tight and the beer wasn’t as watered down as other places I’d been. I would have to watch out for the paps; they always had a way of getting the shot.

  “Sorry, Coach.”

  “Sorry? Landyn…” Coach sat down at the opposite end next to the general manager, Rochelle Hardison. Still couldn’t believe she was our GM. I could understand a female owner—they were all just rich people looking to make more money. Figureheads. But to hire a GM with no real experience? Helping another female get a job at the risk of a franchise…no one would agree with that.

  “Landyn, everyone is going to be looking at this team—looking at you, the quarterback, the leader. First game starts in two weeks. We can’t have you—”

  “Coach, I’m good.” I sat up straighter, shoving the tabloid rag away and ignoring the shocked expression on the GM’s face. So I’d been on the cover of it a few times…and maybe some others a few times. So what? I’d just graduated college and had to go straight into off-season training. No time off, no real celebration. Four years of making it to four conference championships, four Rose Bowls, and winning three national championships in a row, not to mention countless nights of forcing the library to stay open just to keep my B average so I wouldn’t be benched for the second string.

  People needed to just back the fuck off.

  If I wanted some ass and a drink, I was gonna have it. Screw the paps and Casper; I’d been working hard all summer. I deserved it.

  “You’ve done some really good work this summer, Landyn,” Coach said as though he was hearing my thoughts. “We have our first game with the Redskins, and we’re already rivals for the Mid-Atlantic region fans. Because most of our offensive starters are rookies, we can’t make any mistakes. I’ve asked the veterans to step up and be role models, but you are the team’s quarterback. If you want their respect, you gotta earn it, and not just on the field.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair, all of this giving me the worst headache. I’d have to finish my workout with cardio—which I hated doing—just to get rid of it, and I was still sore from practice yesterday. Couldn’t they just all give me a break? Judge my performance on the field, not off. At least I wasn’t beating girlfriends or getting arrested on stupid weapons charges like guys who’d been in the league for years. I was just partying with some anonymous chicks.

  “Have I slacked off any?” The GM’s frown didn’t worry me so much as Coach not immediately answering.

  “Landyn, this isn’t like you,” the GM said in a weird motherly sort of way. “What happened to that hardworking young man I saw compete at Combine harder than any other QB?”

  “Wait a minute—”

  “I’m going to have to disagree,” Coach cut in on my totally unprepared, off-the-cuff remark I was going to make about her not knowing who the hell I am to say I’m not the same guy. “Landyn hasn’t missed a day of practice. He’s still the first to arrive and the last to leave.” Coach looked the GM directly in her face. “I think it’s unfair to characterize him as no longer hardworking. He’s a competitor. He competes with himself every time he’s on the field.”

  At least the coach had my back.

  From around the coach’s head, I could see the black-rimmed edge of the GM’s slanted eye narrow further. “That may be true, but our PR department has been having a hard time keeping up with his antics off the field.”

  I snorted. “So fire your PR firm. They obviously can’t do the job.”

  “Landyn!” Coach Hicks pointed a finger at me, his blue eyes hard, his tone menacing. “Not helping.”

  Shame shot through me like hot lava. I tried to muster an apology, but my tongue had dried out so fast all I could do was hack.

  “Landyn, I think you’re missing the point,” the GM spoke. “This team has been criticized for our draft decisions.”

  Whose fault was that?

  “We need to prove that we can go toe-to-toe with the best in the game. That means the team’s leader has to set the example. Behaving like you’re still in college, at a frat party, isn’t professional.”

  “Coach, you said I haven’t slacked off.”

  The GM shot up from her chair. The petite five-foot-probably-two-inch woman hardly looked imposing, even in her power suit. How she’d nabbed the position of general manager had to be a joke. Other than working at the college level for barely a decade, what experience could she possibly bring to an NFL team? I smirked, watching her combust over a simple question. No way she’d be able to handle the pressure of running the team throughout the season. How would she deal with questions during press conferences?

  “Wait a minute, you don’t ignore me!”

  The coach turned towards her and spoke in so low a tone I couldn’t hear. The harsh lines of the GM’s cheekbones and the deep impressions around her mouth both softened; still, the displeased expression remained. She marched out of the room and I snickered.

  “Don’t!” Coach pointed a long, thick finger at me, the man’s pale skin going red, his brown freckles darkening. “Just who do you think you are? You just insulted your boss, or do you not understand how this all works? You’re not in college anymore, Landyn. This is the real world. You just committed a fireable offense.”

  “Coach, do you really think this team is going to let me go with game one in two weeks? I’d be picked up by another team in less than twenty-four hours. They spent millions—”

  “Perhaps your agent didn’t read you the contract, but there was a whole lot of fine print attached to that signing bonus. You could walk away with less than a million if you screw this up. You have to abide by the stipulations in your contract, one of them being your performance off the field. You get arrested
and you’re done. The owner doesn’t give second chances. She has a zero-tolerance policy for screwups. Y’all are too old to be acting like idiots.”

  “Coach—”

  “I suggest you take it easy this weekend,” he said, his tone relaxing and the words coming out with less rapidity. “Go to the movies, or stay home and read. If you don’t think you can lose your job to Kyle, then forget everything I just said.”

  My upper lip twitched. I placed my balled fists in my lap. I hated threats; had heard them all my life. Except this one didn’t come from a drunk overbearing father who couldn’t remember he had children when downing one too many. This was exactly what Coach had said: the real world.

  And there was a very real possibility that Kyle McMannon, the backup quarterback, could take the first snap in the opening game. Kyle had talent, sure. But he’s not number one. Southwestern had beat his team in the national championship game in my junior year. Kyle was always biting at my heels, just waiting for me to throw one too many incomplete passes during practice. I’d thought another team would’ve picked Kyle to be their starter, but when he’d shown up to practice, I’d figured the guy had some weird master plan to supplant me before the season started.

  I still have two weeks.

  “I apologize, sir,” I said, grinding my teeth.

  “Out.”

  Dismissed, I didn’t stop to talk to anyone. Forgot all about the gym and the set I needed to do on my left side to even out my pecs. I ran out of the team’s headquarters building to my Jaguar. I gunned the engine and sped out of the parking lot.

  Eight million dollars.

  Somehow, it just didn’t seem like enough.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ROCHELLE

  I paced my office like a restless lioness waiting for a gazelle to jump by so I could pounce on it…and snap its jugular with my teeth. Only I wished it were Landyn, and that I could actually rip his throat out.