Lord, he’s gorgeous. I wish I could bring him back to my apartment and rip off that white dress shirt. I stare at Brett as he walks away from the bar. My mind wanders to his rippling chest and a little lower. Anne nudges me, “Don’t gawk at him, Lexi. You should be networking right now. If you are serious about having a career next season, you’d be talking to the coaches and other players. You know you have an in with Brett if they go to Super Bowl.” I turn my gaze to some of the other players. I hate that Anne’s right. I would have preferred spending the evening sitting and talking to Brett, but I need to kiss-ass with the rest of the team. Steve is teetering between Jade and I concerning the Super Bowl; her interviews skills are getting better. I utter a low groan, “Fine, Anne. I’ll start chatting away.”

I get off the couch and approach some players and their wives and girlfriends. I spot Dion—with a girlfriend. I’m not sure if I should talk to him. But he seems to be in a good mood. Maybe getting his perspective might be great for some banter during Media Week.

“Hello, Dion,” I say brightly as I walk toward him.

His face is jubilant. “Hi, Driver. We’ve been WINNING!” He punches a fist into the air.

Wow. I’ve never seen him this happy. “I see that. You are in a much better mood than you were a few months ago.”

“As it turns out, Brock the Rock is paying for the tab tonight and I haven’t done a damn thing to earn that!”

“I see.”

“I know you’ve been around his pound, Driver.” Dion turns to his girlfriend. “I need to be chatting with Driver here, why don’t you take off?”

The girl follows orders, stands and walks away. I take her place and several of the players’ wives give me dirty looks.

“I want to thank you for not comparing Brett’s performances to mine,” he says. “I’m glad you have made it about his challenges as an athlete and the game.”

I know that Dion is referring to the fact that Brett can handle the stress of the position better. “You don’t have to thank me, Dion.” I shrug. “I’m just doing my job.”

“I know. But a lot of other sports reporters compare. Your interviews have been focused on Brett, the players, the coaches, and the game. No real talk or comparison between my and Brett’s style. I appreciate that.” He gives me a timid look, “With the way I treated you in our last few interviews, I thought you were going to nail me to the wall with comparisons.”

“I never considered it a comparison. You seem to be happy, though. Are you enjoying this little break?”

He sits for a moment in thought, “You know, Driver, I’ve been going at this nonstop since I was a kid. Never had much of a break. I totally forgot the reasons why I got into this world.”

With these words, I realize that I could ask Dion anything. This is the most humble and honest he’ll ever be. “Why did you get into football?”

“I loved the game. I forgot how much. Now that the pressure is off, I can sit and enjoy watching. I miss practicing and playing. But right now, I don’t have to deal with pleasing anyone.”

“Wow. Dion, how long has the pressure been on you? You were always the top player on all your teams?”

“Hell, yeah.” He sighs. “I’ve been dealing with that since high school. Everyone always counted on me. If I won, I’d get an interview, a few drinks, then told by my coaches not to get too confident. You know, stay focused. If I lost, I was blamed.”

“Right. Are you looking forward to going back next year?”

By the expression on Dion’s face, I can tell he has mixed emotions. “I feel free from chains I never realized I had on me. I mean, what have I got, two or three years left in me? And that’s only if I recover from surgery without issue.”

I’m dumbfounded at his words. Is he thinking about retiring? I don’t want to suggest it; he might take it as an insult. “So, what do you like most about this time off?” I ask.

“You know, it’s been nice being able to spend some more time with my family. I’m starting to consider doing sports analysis. Do you think EAN is looking for someone?”

I raise my brow, “Level with me, Dion. I’ll talk to the bigwigs at EAN if you can help me get some players to promise to only do interviews with me for Super Bowl.”

Dion guffaws, “You think EAN wouldn’t want me? I’m one of the best quarterbacks in the league. I don’t need you to do me any favors, Lexi.”

I glare, “Dion, your interviews are dry. I know the network has always cringed when any of us had to talk to you live after a game. You said the same shit repeatedly. Getting interesting answers was like pulling teeth.”

“I’m a well-loved athlete,” he says with a serious expression. “I’ll bring in ratings.”

“Doubtful. We usually saw a dip in ratings whenever we interviewed you. Viewers tuned out when you got hold of the mic. You soured the network and viewers with repeating the same things.”

“You’re lying.”

“I got emails from the network with tips on how I should interview you, Dion. Do you want to see them?” I pull out my phone.

He sighs. “Nah. What were you proposing earlier, Driver?”

“I know Jade is working overtime trying to get the big interviews at Super Bowl. You got a lot of friends on this team and others, Dion. I need you to ask them to help me out. See what players you can get to commit to only doing an interview with me.”

“Like old times?” he says, considering my proposition.

“Yup. Like when I first started, and you wanted certain interview questions to project a sort of image.” I raise a brow. “Tell all your close friends from every team that I’m willing to memorize any questions they would want me to ask them during Super Bowl. I’ll help them project the kind of image they’re trying to promote.”

He pauses, staring into my eyes. “All right, Driver. But you damn well better get me a regular spot on one of the shows.”

“I promise you, Dion, I will talk you up to Steve. I’ll offer my help to train you on camera to smooth out your performance, if need be.”

“Deal.” He pours some wine into a couple of glasses and I take one. “Cheers, Driver.”

CLINK

I look down into my wine glass and swirl the wine about, wondering what kind of sports commentary Dion would give. “Dion, do you think the Blazers are going to make Super Bowl this year?” I ask. “You’ve been on a couple winning teams. You have a few Super Bowl rings.”

“Without a doubt. Dietrick has an advantage here. Brett has been something of a secret weapon. You know, an ace up his sleeve. None of the other teams or the coaches know what to expect from Brett. They don’t know his style of play, or what plays he and the coaches favor. Because of that, the other teams have come onto the field ill-prepared. Brett is a diverse player. His adaptability to different circumstances and plays is incredible. The Blazers have effortlessly won the past couple of months. They’d have to screw up royally with the next couple of games to not make Super Bowl.”

I nod, “True.”

“Well, I got to talk to my lady.” Dion finishes his glass. “I’m sure she’s worried that I’ve got plans with you tonight.”

I jokingly blow a raspberry, “You wish, Dion.”

I watch as he gets up and walks toward his girlfriend. I look about curious if his wife is around. I had heard she was aware of his cheating.

“I heard you were with Katie’s man,” says a voice approaching from behind me. I turn to see a gorgeous woman glowering at me. Katie’s man is Tristan. Here we go. Some players’ wife is going to put me in my place, when it isn’t her business.