Breaking Tackles: A Taking Flight Novel

Breaking Tackles: A Taking Flight Novel

by Erin Brown

For the girls who love football.

Taking Flight

Making Headlines: A Taking Flight Novel

Finding Slope: A Taking Flight Novella

Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Other Books by Erin Brown
Note from Author
Acknowledgments
About the Author

Courtney

You would think being at the NFL Draft with my boyfriend would be one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me.

But, in fact, it’s one of the loneliest.

I’m sitting at an otherwise empty table in a room with the best college football players in the nation, most of who have brought their parents and girlfriends—and in a couple cases wives and kids—with them to be here tonight. There’s a mixture of anxiety, excitement, and dread in the air, and the nervous energy of the players is palpable.

Being in the NFL Draft is what most of these guys have worked their entire lives for. But, a lot of these players know that just because they’ve entered the draft, it doesn’t mean they’ll be picked up by a team. And, if they aren’t drafted, they can’t go back to their college teams. Hence the dread.

Luckily, my boyfriend, Adam Kistler, isn’t in that boat. He had a huge season last year, and even though he’s only twenty, he’s one of the most talked about players in the draft pool.

It doesn’t hurt that every man in his family has played in the NFL and that they’re
all
here tonight, making the rounds, chatting with people and posing for photos.

Though I’m excited for Adam and looking forward to finding out where he’s going to play next year, I’m currently being totally, completely ignored. I’m sitting at our table, fidgeting and drinking way too much water so that I’ll have something to do with my hands, while Adam is paraded around the room by his dad to talk to sports agents and journalists and other players.

“You hanging in there?” I hear someone ask.

I look up and see Becca Phillips, the Mizzou quarterback’s girlfriend, seating herself at our table. She, like most of the girlfriends here, is supermodel pretty. Unlike a lot of the others I’ve met tonight when I attempted to be social, Becca is completely nice.

“Yeah,” I say, as brightly as I can manage. “Nervous, I guess. For Adam.”

Becca gives me a warm smile and says, “I completely understand. I haven’t been able to eat anything all day because of my nerves. I don’t know how the guys are standing it.”

“I don’t think Adam has even had time to think about what’s going to happen tonight,” I say. “His family has his schedule jam-packed.”

So jam-packed that I’ve barely seen him.

He didn’t decide to come to New York for the draft until two weeks ago, so his family had to scramble to get plane tickets and hotel reservations. Adam asked me to come here with him, and my parents had promised to buy me a ticket if he invited me. I had stupidly assumed that I’d be staying in his hotel room, so I told my parents not to worry about booking me a room when they offered.

But Adam’s mom made it very clear that I would not be staying with them. Which, honestly, I found kind of weird since our families have known each other for ages. My brothers played football with Adam and his brothers. Our families tailgate together at Mizzou games, and we’re always invited to the Kistler Super Bowl party.

But, things changed when Adam and I started dating last fall. I wanted to keep it a secret for as long as possible. I’d never had an actual boyfriend and didn’t know how to tell my family that Adam and I were together. But when my friend, Sophie Tucker, was victimized by a group of women running a website called The Score List and needed some help catching them in the act, I volunteered to debut mine and Adam’s relationship with a splash—by being featured on The Score List and helping Sophie dismantle the website.

Unsurprisingly, neither of our families was too pleased with how they found out about us. But when the Kistlers saw that I truly wasn’t a distraction for Adam and that I wasn’t affecting his game, they started treating me like they always had, and once my family got over the shock, everything seemed fine.

That is, until this week. Adam never told his parents that he invited me to come to New York, so they didn’t even know I’d be joining them until Adam and I arrived at the airport. Mrs. Kistler had booked a room near Rockefeller Center a month ago and said that there wasn’t enough space for an extra person.

Adam pushed back and said I should stay with them, but she remained firm. She did offer to book me a separate room—which I swore I’d pay her back for. Of course, being draft weekend, the hotel they booked had no vacancy. She finally found a room, but it wasn’t anywhere near their hotel, which meant I’d be at some random place in Manhattan, a city I’ve never been to before, by myself.

Luckily, my friend, Willa Thompson, grew up in New York. I hurriedly called her and asked if she knew of anywhere I could stay. Willa immediately took charge and set up everything for me—including staying at her mom’s apartment and booking all my transportation. She’s been a lifesaver.

Since arriving in the city a day and a half ago, I’ve seen Adam for approximately three hours, and all of them have been today. I had lunch with the Kistlers before we all made our way to Radio City Music Hall, where the draft is taking place. But once we entered the famed venue, checked in, and found our seats, Adam was whisked away from me and promenaded around the room by his dad.

“Tell me about it,” Becca says. “Drew and I have barely slept. Neither of us has been to the city before, so we’ve been doing as much sightseeing as possible.”

I do my best to smile and not turn green with jealousy at the fact that she’s been spending time with her boyfriend.

While Adam has been out doing meet-and-greets with potential sports agents, I’ve been seeing the city with Willa’s boyfriend, Dan, who is a student at NYU, and his friends Natalie, Jack, and Rufus, all of whom I met during spring break. They’ve been taking turns hanging out with me and showing me around when they’re not in class.

Finally, one of the television producers steps on stage, asking everyone to take their seats since the live broadcast will begin in five minutes. Becca squeals and shoots a big smile my way. As the players start returning to their tables, I finally get excited.

I’m at the NFL Draft. With my boyfriend. Who is going to be drafted. Tonight.

I exhale a shaky breath and wonder how Adam must be feeling.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Adam says, taking his seat next to me and leaning over to give me a quick kiss that I wish were at least three times longer.

“Hey, handsome,” I say. “How are you?”

“I’m freaking out,” he says in a low voice. “All I’ve wanted is to hang out with you instead of all of these sports people. They’re only making me feel more nervous.”

“I don’t make you feel nervous?” I ask, coyly.

“You make me feel nervous in the best way possible,” he says, leaning in for another kiss.

“Adam,” Mr. Kistler says. “The cameras are going to be rolling any second.”

I blush at the reprimand, thinking for the millionth time that I shouldn’t have come. But Adam gives his dad a pointed look before turning to me and kissing me again.

This time it isn’t quick.

When he pulls back, I say, “As much as I enjoyed that, maybe your dad has a point.”

“He might,” Adam concedes. “But I want you here and I’ve barely seen you and you’re my girlfriend. So I’m going to kiss you when I feel like it, cameras be damned.”

I see Mr. Kistler frowning at us over Adam’s shoulder and do my best to look as sheepish as possible. I know that they see me as a liability, and, even though they like me, I understand that in their minds I’m just one of what will surely be many girlfriends to come.

They’ve seen it all before with their other two sons, who have notoriously dated around. Recently, Adam’s brother, Jason, who plays for the Minnesota Vikings, has been seen out with Nadia Attenborough, a Victoria’s Secret model. I asked Adam about it, but he shrugged. And Adam’s oldest brother, Michael, who plays for the Houston Texans, married a former reality television star not long ago.

If it turns out that Jason is actually dating a Victoria’s Secret model, I definitely won’t be up to par. I mean, I think I’m attractive, and I know Adam thinks I’m attractive, but I’m definitely not a model, and I’d never be cast in a reality TV show. Nobody wants to watch the average looking Italian-American girl who knows more about football than most guys and wants to be a sports therapist.

“As much as I enjoy your kisses, your dad
is
right. We should tone it down. Especially due to our, uh, reputation.”

After our more-than-a-little-steamy photo graced The Score List, the photo was shown on ESPN Game Day, the nation’s biggest college football show, and was discussed on almost all of the major sports websites.

“Our reputation is fine,” Adam says. “No one will mind if they see us kissing. It’ll just remind everyone that we’re good together.”

I roll my eyes, but am pleased that he wants to be seen with me.

“Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?” Adam asks, taking my hand in his and threading his fingers through mine.

“Not in the last hour.”

“Well, you look amazing.”

“Thank you.”

Though I’m enjoying the compliments, it makes me feel self-conscious about how I look on a regular basis. Because it is not like this.

When Willa’s mom found out that I was going to do my own hair and makeup for tonight, she made me an appointment at an extremely fancy salon and insisted she pay for it. I never even saw the bill. I need to get her a truly amazing hostess gift.

When Adam saw me in his hotel lobby after being all dolled up, I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Apparently knowing how to appropriately use a hair dryer and makeup really does make a difference.

The NFL Commissioner walks out onto the stage and a hush falls over the room. As he makes his opening remarks and reminds everyone of the draft rules, a nervous energy pulses through the room. I squeeze Adam’s hand and he squeezes back, a little too hard. I do my best not to wince, just in case a camera is on us, and realize just how nervous Adam is.

When the commissioner leaves the stage, the team with the first draft pick has eight minutes to deliberate and submit their choice.

They submit within two minutes.

The room goes completely silent, as if all the air has been sucked out of it, and we watch the commissioner return to the stage to announce the name of the first round, first draft pick.

“For the first pick of the NFL Draft, the Arizona Cardinals choose,” he says, pausing for dramatic effect, “Rayshawn Jeffries.”

The quarterback from Oregon. A table a few over from ours erupts in cheers, and Rayshawn makes his way to the stage to accept his new team’s hat.

Jeffries was slated to be the first pick according to almost every sports site. In fact, the top ten picks every site published were pretty much identical—and all had Adam within the top ten. Most had him as number six, but some had him as high as four and as low as ten.

If it turns out that the forecasters are right, we’re not going to be in this room for very long.

After Rayshawn leaves, a reporter interviews his mother a few tables away while the second team confers on who their draft pick will be.

Becca catches my eye from across the table and I smile, wishing I was seated closer to her so that we could easily chat.

“I hope Drew gets picked up tonight,” Adam says to me.

“Me, too. That’d be great.”

Drew is a good player, but his entry in this year’s draft surprised a lot of people. He had a fairly strong year, but nothing outstanding, and he probably could have benefitted from another year of college play. Though I think he will be drafted, I doubt it’s tonight, when only the first two rounds are determined.

“So what have you been up to?” Adam asks me. “I know you mentioned sightseeing with Rufus yesterday. How was that?”