Page 69 of Deking at Love
Sam threw down his towel.“I’d kinda like to buy myself a house first.”One with a big backyard for a dog … and a cat … and this beautiful blond I’m partial to.
Lately, thoughts of settling down had crowded Sam’s mind.What else was he going to think about, though, while he waited for news from the team?Two weeks were all that remained of the season.Time was running out.
He still didn’t know about the bonus money either, which the league had distributed to the teams.Before he’d left Colorado, he’d grabbed a beer with some of the boys who’d stuck around for the summer.They’d joked about “playoff cash,” as if they had it to throw around, and he’d felt sick to his stomach.
Was he getting paid?No clue.Had they passed him over?Probably.But someone would have let him know one way or the other, right?So what the freaking hell was taking so long?If hedidget paid, would there be enough to cover the pile of bills sitting on his dad’s kitchen table?At least Joe’s tuition was taken care of—forthissemester—though Joe continually insisted he didn’t need the help.
And Sam’s contract.What was happening there?He heard nothing but crickets.It was a hell of a spot to be in.
Suddenly twitchy, he pocketed his phone.“I’m going for a walk.”
Joe gave him the bouncing eyebrows as Sam exited the kitchen.“Gonna call your girlfriend?”He sang the last word.
Dad chimed in with, “When are you going to invite her here?”because of course he’d overheard.How could you not when the living room was right next to the kitchen and walls were paper-thin?Not much privacy in a nine-hundred-square-foot home.
“She’s got a full-time job,” Sam called as he banged the screen door behind him.Huffing toward the neighborhood park, he pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen, ready to hit Angie’s number.He lasered in on a missed call.His heart rate rocketed as he tapped the green icon.
“Coach?”he practically shouted when the line picked up.
“Yeah, Sam.”Noise roared in the background—laughter, music, screeching.
Coachnevercalled him Sam.“Uh, should I call back?You sound busy.”
“My kid’s birthday.Hang on.”A door clicked, and the racket disappeared.“Thanks for returning my call.”
“What’s up?”Sam tried for casual and failed.
“Have you talked to your agent today?”
Sam swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.“No.Haven’t heard from him.”
“Probably because he’s been tied up with the league office.I wanted you to hear this from us and not social media or one of your friends.”Coach paused a beat.“You’ve been traded.”
Sam’s heart stopped and plummeted to his knees.“W-where?”His voice cracked.
“You’re going to the Surge in North Carolina.I think this is going to be a good opportunity for you.”
A loud buzzing sounded in Sam’s ears as blood pounded through his head.The Surge?North Carolina?He’d never been traded before, and now he was headed clear across the county.And the team sucked!
“Uh, when did this happen?”
“The deal just got finalized.I pushed to call you myself.”Coach went on to tell Sam what a good fit he thought the team would be, that the Surge was getting a solid player, blah, blah, blah, but Sam didn’t register any of it.He tuned back in when Coach added, “Their GM will reach out shortly.Your agent will walk you through the details.”
“Yeah, okay,” Sam croaked.
“Hey, I just want to say I’ve enjoyed coaching you.I mean that.Go do good things there.”
Sam hung up and later wouldn’t remember if he’d even bothered to say “thank you” or “good-bye.”All he could recall was standing in the middle of the sidewalk under a blazing sun while his world imploded around him.
Hours after the call, Sam felt as though he was being buffeted in the eye of a storm.Chaos swirled around him.He’d briefly texted with his agent before meeting his new coach over a Zoom meeting.He’d answered calls and texts from his teammates … new and old.He’d tried to answer his dad’s and brother’s barrage of questions.He’d answered Angie’s text with a short one, saying stuff was happening and he’d fill her in later.
His emotions were a twisting tornado of terror and excitement.
As the phone rang once more, he traipsed to the bedroom he shared with Joe and shut the door.This was the call he’d been waiting for.
“Hey, Herb.”
“How you holding up, son?”
