Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗

I drive the first few miles in a quiet trance, letting the surrounding darkness settle upon my brain. After a while, the soft black summer night Kingman is known for steers my heart to a steady rhythm, and I know I’m ready to revisit Dad’s last words.

My father is right. I failed to show Ellie how much I care for her. I told her I love her, but my confession wasn’t as powerful as it could’ve been. When she brought up Bill and said she was over me, I backed off. I thought it was an honorable act, but once again, I was being a coward with her. I gave up on her too quickly.

I pass the post signaling the town’s end and merge to the road heading toward the highway.

My hands and feet make all the necessary motions while my brain is sizzling with thoughts.

Ellie believes that playing for the NFL is my true passion, the thing I most want in this world. While that might’ve been the case in the past, it isn’t anymore. None of the Super Bowl rings I collected have given me the endless thrills that a simple night in the park with Ellie did.

Yes, I’ve had years in the league and a prosperous career. I enjoyed the thrill of the games, the spotlight, the friendships, and the training’s hardship.

But I’m getting older, and my long-term future and happiness don’t lie with the Kites. Not just because, as time passes, I’ve grown weary of the pressures and constraints being a professional athlete requires. That’s only one part of the equation.

The other missing piece is Ellie.

I can learn to cope with her absence, but I’ll never be blissful if she isn’t at my side.

But how can I reconquer her faith in me?

Just as I get to this thought, my car reaches a traffic light. It turns red, and I automatically slow down and push the gear into first.

My eyes flick to my feet.

A small smile forces its way to my lips, and I shift the stick into neutral while lifting my shoe from the clutch. I lean back and inhale deeply. I even close my eyes for a second, trying to summon that brief break with Ellie.

Instead of that memory, another one pops into my mind. Amp Island, with all its noises.

My laughter as I pass the ball to Oliver…

The giggling kids…

Ellie cheering us…

My breathing grows ragged, and my palms become moist.

My eyes fly open, and the flashy green light almost blinds me. I put the car in motion, but I pull over and stop after only a mile, because I can’t focus on driving.

My solution lies within those images I’ve just seen. I can feel it.

It’s the same sensation I get when I’m about to decide on the winning move to land a touchdown. A vision of how to proceed is coming to me. I can already perceive its contours, though I’m unable to grasp it fully yet.

But it’s there. Approaching.

I shift into the same position as before and let my eyelids close again.

I travel back to the park where I taught those children tricks of a game I’ve spent a lifetime learning to master. Ellie waves to me and gives a thumbs up, her eyes glimmering with joy. I was so darned happy that evening. So utterly, fantastically, incredibly ecstatic.

My heart skips a beat, and suddenly, I know what I need to do.

It’s the perfect solution. I can’t believe it only crossed my mind now.

It’ll serve as a demonstration to Ellie. A first, reliable brick toward the future I hope to build with her. And it’ll also take care of my impending long-term career problem.

I open my eyes, switch the engine back on, and make a U-turn so sharp all four tires screech. I deepen my foot on the gas while clicking the car’s phone button.

“Call Devon,” I say and wait as a shrill ringtone fills the Corvette.

Soon Devon’s sleepy voice picks up. “Wyatt?”

“Were you sleeping?”

“Nah. Laia and I were watching a French movie. It’s too slow-paced for my taste, though. What’s wrong, pal?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. All is right, in fact. I know what I’ve got to do.”

My friend yawns. “Okay, great. Though, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s okay,” I say. “I just need you to answer me one question, then I’ll leave you.”

“What question?” Devon’s voice is more awake now. “About Ellie?”

“It’s connected to her, yes. But not only.” I’m unable to control the exuberant tone in my voice.

Devon must pick up on it because he comments, “You sound like you just gulped down a bunch of Red Bulls.”

I ignore his mocking remark and cut straight to the chase. “Do you know if that coaching job Jimmy mentioned during poker night is still available?”

“I guess so. The trainer doesn’t leave till next year so—” He pauses. “Wyatt, are you planning what I think?”

“Could you text me Jimmy’s phone number?” I say, instead of answering.

There’s a silence, then a beep on my cell alerts me to a new message.

“Just did. You can even call him now. He stays up late every night because of his jazz club.”

“Okay, great, thanks.”

“Where are you now?” Devon asks.

“In my car.”

“Going to Atlanta?”

“Coming back to Phoenix,” I say. “I’m roughly an hour away. Perhaps forty minutes if I speed up.”

“Yesss!” My buddy exclaims.

“I’ll need Laia’s and your help to pull off my plan properly. Especially for the part concerning Ellie. Will you give me a hand?”

“Of course. Come straight to my house, and we can help you figure out the details concerning my sis.”

“Will do. Bye.” I hang up the line, then make a quick mental list of everyone I’ll need to speak to and in which order.

First Jimmy. I need to confirm Devon’s hunch and see that the job is still open.

Then I must speak to the Cougar’s current head coach to test the waters. If there’s no friction there, I can move on to Liam.

My agent won’t be