pieces and parts that can fail.”
“Pieces like Diaz? From what I understand, his career fell apart after you left. People thought he was at least a half-decent quarterback until you weren’t there to catch his throws anymore.”
“I was able to read him better than most,” Kurtis admits, refusing to call Diaz out on his shortcomings. “He might have lost some confidence when I left. I don’t know.”
“Have you spoken to him since you went to Montana?”
“No.”
“Did you speak to any of the Kodiaks after you left?”
“No.”
“Were they angry at you for leaving them?” Carmen asks casually.
Kurtis casts her a blank stare. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask them.”
“Oh, I will.”
“Were you sad to go?” I ask quietly.
He turns his eyes to mine. I hate the way they feel; hollow and cold. “Yes and no. I knew I had to go, but I was sorry to leave my team.”
My blood is rushing in my ears. This is it. This is the moment, the question. The one he told me not to ask. The one I can’t walk away from. I’ll never have a better lead into it than this, and even though I know it’ll turn him glacial cold, that he’ll probably never again look at me with fire in his eyes and desire on his breath, I have to ask it. It’s my job. It’s what drives me. It’s why I’m here.
Carmen’s jewelry jingles eagerly behind me. “And why did you have—“
“Is Domata an easy quarterback to read?” I interrupt her. The words spill out of me on a breathless rush. “Is that why he’s had so much success with the Kodiaks?”
Kurtis blinks, surprise flitting across his face for a split second before he masters it. “No. Trey Domata is successful because he has talent. More than I’ve ever seen in a quarterback.”
“That’s what everyone is saying; that between you, Avery, and Domata, the Kodiaks can’t lose.”
“We can, and we might.”
“Is thinking that way how you manage the pressure of the job?”
“It’s how I stay realistic. Going into the season assuming you’re going to win every game is stupid. It’s immature.”
“So you’re not looking at the Super Bowl yet? That’s not your end game?”
He sighs, clearly tired of the topic. “I’ll probably never see a ring in my lifetime, and that puts me in the majority. And that’s fine by me.”
“It’s the highest achievement any NFL athlete can aspire to,” Carmen argues. “It’s the sole reason a lot of men get into the game. Are you saying it’s not what drives you?”
“No, it’s not.”
“What does? The fame? The women? The money?”
“Love.”
I’m not sure I heard him right. “Love?”
“I love the game. I love to play, I always have. I’ve made football my life since I was a kid. There’s a lot of money to be made, but there’s a lot of risk that comes with it. You have to love it or no amount of money in the world will ever be worth it.”
“How much did they pay you to come back to California?” Carmen demands.
Kurtis doesn’t move his eyes from mine. He’s ignoring her entirely now, focusing on me to shut her out.
I breathe slow and even, struggling under the weight of his eyes. The intensity. “Have you suffered any injuries during your career?”
“Nothing major,” he tells me, his voice softening. His eyes thawing. “I’m lucky. It’s rare to get this far without tearing or shattering something.”
“Why do you think you’ve been able to stay so healthy?”
“I told you. I’m lucky.”
“You don’t believe in coincidence but you believe in luck?”
“I do,” he answers unabashedly. “I count on it.”
“You seem too pragmatic for that.”
“I’m not. I believe in everything. Tarot cards, soothsayers, astrology. Healing crystals.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re messing with me.”
“My psychic said you’d say that.”
I grin. “She’s very wise.”
“It’s what I pay her for.”
“Do your healing crystals keep you free from injury? Is that
“Pieces like Diaz? From what I understand, his career fell apart after you left. People thought he was at least a half-decent quarterback until you weren’t there to catch his throws anymore.”
“I was able to read him better than most,” Kurtis admits, refusing to call Diaz out on his shortcomings. “He might have lost some confidence when I left. I don’t know.”
“Have you spoken to him since you went to Montana?”
“No.”
“Did you speak to any of the Kodiaks after you left?”
“No.”
“Were they angry at you for leaving them?” Carmen asks casually.
Kurtis casts her a blank stare. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask them.”
“Oh, I will.”
“Were you sad to go?” I ask quietly.
He turns his eyes to mine. I hate the way they feel; hollow and cold. “Yes and no. I knew I had to go, but I was sorry to leave my team.”
My blood is rushing in my ears. This is it. This is the moment, the question. The one he told me not to ask. The one I can’t walk away from. I’ll never have a better lead into it than this, and even though I know it’ll turn him glacial cold, that he’ll probably never again look at me with fire in his eyes and desire on his breath, I have to ask it. It’s my job. It’s what drives me. It’s why I’m here.
Carmen’s jewelry jingles eagerly behind me. “And why did you have—“
“Is Domata an easy quarterback to read?” I interrupt her. The words spill out of me on a breathless rush. “Is that why he’s had so much success with the Kodiaks?”
Kurtis blinks, surprise flitting across his face for a split second before he masters it. “No. Trey Domata is successful because he has talent. More than I’ve ever seen in a quarterback.”
“That’s what everyone is saying; that between you, Avery, and Domata, the Kodiaks can’t lose.”
“We can, and we might.”
“Is thinking that way how you manage the pressure of the job?”
“It’s how I stay realistic. Going into the season assuming you’re going to win every game is stupid. It’s immature.”
“So you’re not looking at the Super Bowl yet? That’s not your end game?”
He sighs, clearly tired of the topic. “I’ll probably never see a ring in my lifetime, and that puts me in the majority. And that’s fine by me.”
“It’s the highest achievement any NFL athlete can aspire to,” Carmen argues. “It’s the sole reason a lot of men get into the game. Are you saying it’s not what drives you?”
“No, it’s not.”
“What does? The fame? The women? The money?”
“Love.”
I’m not sure I heard him right. “Love?”
“I love the game. I love to play, I always have. I’ve made football my life since I was a kid. There’s a lot of money to be made, but there’s a lot of risk that comes with it. You have to love it or no amount of money in the world will ever be worth it.”
“How much did they pay you to come back to California?” Carmen demands.
Kurtis doesn’t move his eyes from mine. He’s ignoring her entirely now, focusing on me to shut her out.
I breathe slow and even, struggling under the weight of his eyes. The intensity. “Have you suffered any injuries during your career?”
“Nothing major,” he tells me, his voice softening. His eyes thawing. “I’m lucky. It’s rare to get this far without tearing or shattering something.”
“Why do you think you’ve been able to stay so healthy?”
“I told you. I’m lucky.”
“You don’t believe in coincidence but you believe in luck?”
“I do,” he answers unabashedly. “I count on it.”
“You seem too pragmatic for that.”
“I’m not. I believe in everything. Tarot cards, soothsayers, astrology. Healing crystals.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re messing with me.”
“My psychic said you’d say that.”
I grin. “She’s very wise.”
“It’s what I pay her for.”
“Do your healing crystals keep you free from injury? Is that
Similar Books
