Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I’m reeling. Freaking out. That’s been my experience, too. In fact, every word out of Luca’s mouth could have been spoken by me. Unfortunately, I’m straight, too. I wish I weren’t, given the world of amazing people. And yet, despite my innate sexual wiring, I simply haven’t been able connect on a deep, emotional level with men. I can’t feel what’s required and expected of a girlfriend. That’s what I’ve come to find out. That’s what my spreadsheet told me, ultimately. And I haven’t been able to figure out why.
“We should probably get back to work,” I squeak out. In truth, I want to ask Luca a million questions about his romantic pursuits and sexual exploits over the years, and I want to do that right after and in between fucking the living hell out of him. But even more than all that, I need to get this man through the round of cuts that’s coming our way in a matter of days. Moriarty’s still holding out, thankfully for Luca, but there are whispers about him signing a deal any day now. Which means Luca needs to get himself positioned as the odds-on favorite as Moriarty’s backup, or he won’t make it to our first preseason game against the Admirals in mere days.
“No, let’s talk a bit more,” Luca coos. “I like getting to know you as a person outside of you being my coach.”
Déjà vu washes over me. During our first encounter years ago, I’m almost positive Luca said something along those same lines during our magical time together at the ice cream parlor. I like getting to know you as a person, Chelsea, not just as a world-class mathlete. He was making a joke back then, but I don’t think he’s joking now.
My heart hammering, I glance at the circular clock on the wall behind Luca’s head and panic when I see we’re running out of valuable time before curfew. “Maybe another time,” I gasp out. “Right now, I need to show you the personalized playbook I’ve started for you.”
“Personalized playbook?” he echoes enthusiastically before palming his forehead. “Oh my God, Chelsea! I’m gonna be unstoppable, thanks to you!”
“Don’t get too excited yet. When I’m done with it, it’ll be your secret weapon. But for now, we’re just getting started.”
After taking a deep, cleansing breath meant to get my mind off the physical pull I’m feeling to Luca, I pull up the document and tilt my laptop screen toward him, and he looks at the document like a kid on Christmas.
As Luca gives me his undivided attention, I excitedly walk him through what I’ve got so far for him, and Luca repeatedly whistles softly and says stuff like, “Damn, Chelsea Parker. You’re a genius.”
“It’s not nearly done yet, but this gives you an idea of what can happen when football knowledge meets high-level analytics.”
He looks up from my screen, beaming at me like a floodlight. “I bet you could single-handedly get a team into the playoffs within three years if you did something like this for every player.”
I snicker. “You’ve just described my dream job. I want to become the first female head of analytics for an NFL team. Besides wanting to do stuff like this for players, I also want to perform analyses on the operations side, too. You know, stuff that would impact scouting, recruitment, and overall business decisions and strategies, too.”
Luca excitedly motions to my screen. “Show this shit to Bellamy! Do that, and I know for a fact he’ll immediately hire you to do all of that.”
I shake my head woefully. “Actually, no, he won’t. Bellamy’s not a fan of analytics, unfortunately.”
Luca looks floored. “How is that possible?”
I explain the situation, and Luca expresses solidarity with me, along with deep disappointment that the general manager is such a “clueless dinosaur.”
“It’s okay,” I say on a sigh. “The top teams in the league have analytics departments nowadays, so all I have to do is get some official NFL experience on my résumé while I’m here, and then I’ll be able to leverage that into getting a better job with another team that might eventually let me do what I do best.”
All of a sudden, Luca looks deeply disappointed again. Even more so than earlier when I told him why I’m not in the market for a boyfriend. “So, you’re saying you’re not planning to stick around here with the Mastodons for very long?”
I shake my head. “I adore my father, and I’m having a blast working with him. But next season, I’m hoping to be working somewhere else—with a team that won’t view me simply as Coach Parker’s nepo-baby daughter.” My heart is lodged in my throat. My chest is tight. “I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from on that better than anyone, right?”
Luca’s shoulders slump. But to his credit, he nods slowly and murmurs, “Yeah, no, I do. I totally get it.”