Breaking Tackles: A Taking Flight Novel (7 page)

My mom presses her lips together.

I huff, then turn and run up the stairs to my room, slamming the door.

Laying on my bed, I fish my phone out of my pocket, and dial Adam, but the call rings through and goes to his voicemail.

I’m still all worked up from the fight and want to talk to someone. But I don’t know who to talk to about this. Kate would tell me that planning is fun, Sophie would say that my mom is right and that I should start planning sooner rather than later, and Willa would most likely set up a shared Pinterest board for all of us.

I could call Ryan, the brother I feel closest to, but he’d probably guilt me for yelling at Mom. I deserve the guilt trip, but I don’t want it yet. I want to be mad right now. I can feel guilty tomorrow.

Sighing, I put my phone down, roll over, and close my eyes. With nothing better to do, I might as well call it a night.

Adam

I leave the head coach’s office with a huge smile on my face.

I made the team.

I officially play for the New Orleans Saints.

I’m going to be second string, which is even more insane to me. I never expected to start my first year and thought that I’d be no more than third string. But, I’ve impressed the coaches—and the team captains—enough so far this summer that they’re naming me to second string.

I pull my phone out and call Courtney.

“Hey,” she says, answering on the first ring. “Are you already out of your meeting?”

“Yeah.”

“And?” she asks. I can picture her pacing and chewing on her thumbnail in anticipation.

“I’ve been sainted.”

She whoops in response and I know that if I were there in person she would give me a high five before tackling me and covering my face with kisses. “I’m so excited for you, Adam. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I say, opening the door of my Jeep. “I just wish you were here to celebrate tonight.”

“I know,” she says. “But I’ll be there in two days!”

I smile at that. I haven’t seen my fiancée since I left Missouri in July, and it’s been killing me. I knew that I loved her, but being apart for the last couple months has made me realize just how much I relied on having her around to keep me grounded. But she’ll finally be here in two days. Visiting me in New Orleans for the first of many, many times.

“I guess that means I need to clean my apartment.”

“Preferably, yes,” she says, making me laugh.

“So what do you want to do when you get here?”

“I definitely want to have beignets at that place Luke won’t shut up about.”

“Café du Monde?”

“That’s the one. Have you been?”

“Haven’t had time,” I say. Between two-a-day practices, conditioning, weight training, and team meetings, I barely have time to shower and sleep, let alone squeeze some sightseeing of my new hometown in.

“I figured,” she says. “But you definitely will have time this weekend?”

“Definitely,” I say, before asking, “So how is everyone back home?”

“Good,” Courtney says. “Well, I haven’t actually seen anyone since the end of the semester, but Luke is moving into the frat house early next week since he’s president now and I think Sophie is coming up the day after him. Kate is already all moved in to the sorority house for something called Spirit Week—it has to do with recruitment, I don’t know—and Willa won’t be flying in until the day before school starts.”

“She’s getting in as much time with Dan as possible I’m guessing?”

“That’s exactly it. I seriously thought she was going to stay at John Jay after the summer intensive so they could finally be done with long distance. But, she didn’t.”

“Well, she does have a full ride to Mizzou,” I point out. “Plus, you, Sophie, and Kate are there.”

“True,” she says. “But there’s only so much “hoes before bros” a girl can take.”

I laugh and then hear the truth in the joke. “I’m excited that you’ll be here soon.”

“Me, too,” she says, her voice becoming a little dreamy. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you, too,” I say. “More than I realized.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended by that or not.”

“You know what I mean,” I say as I turn into my apartment complex, rolling down the window to scan my entry card.

“If what you mean is that you miss me more than you love football, I do.”

I smile at that. Mostly because of how true it is.

“That is exactly it. I can’t wait to show you around New Orleans.”

“Do you actually know of any places other than your apartment and the field house to show me?”

“The McDonalds drive-thru on the way to the field house?”

She laughs long and hard at that. “Are you single-handedly keeping them open?”

“It’s possible.”

“How the team nutritionist hasn’t put you on a better diet, I do not know.”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t care what I eat so long as I keep doing well in practice.”

“Maybe so,” she says. “And McDonalds is greasily delicious.”

“So what you’re saying is that we’ll be eating lots of McDonalds while you’re in town?”

“Hell to the no,” she says. “Café du Monde or bust, baby.”

“For every meal?”

“Of course not,” she says casually. “I expect to eat at at least one celebrity chef restaurant.”

Shit. I should have thought to make reservations somewhere.

“Okay,” I say, hoping I can call one of my teammates and see if anyone any connections.

“I was kidding,” she says. “Those places are crazy expensive, right?”

“Do you want to go?”

“I mean, those restaurants are supposed to be some of the best.”

“I assume they’re famous for a reason. I’ll make us reservations.”

“You don’t have to. Really.”

“Nope. We’re going.”

“Can we even get reservations this late?”

“I’ll make it happen.”

“Okay,” she says warily. “But if you can’t, it’s really not a big deal. I’m happy to just go to the store and pick up Easy Mac if that means spending time with you.”

“We wouldn’t even have to go to the store for that. I have Easy Mac in the pantry.”

Courtney laughs and says, “Perfect. Just clean your apartment, take me to Café du Monde, and we’re set for the weekend.”

“Yes ma’am.”

I hear someone in the background talking to Courtney and she says, “Hey, I’m so sorry, but I have to go to family dinner.”

“On a Wednesday?” I ask, knowing that they normally do family dinners on Sundays.

“Since I’m out of town this weekend, we’re having family dinner tonight.”

“Got it. Well, enjoy. Tell everyone I say hi.”

“I’ll tell them more than that. Unless I need to wait to share your good news?”

“No, you can tell them. I’m going to call my dad after we hang up.”

“You called me first?” she asks, sounding surprised.

“Of course. You’re the person I want to share everything with first.”

“Awe,” she says. “I don’t know how to respond to something that sweet.”

“Just tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Adam Kistler.”

“I love you, too. Now go enjoy dinner and tell me nothing about your mom’s cooking.”

She laughs and says, “I’ll talk to you later.”

I hang up and finally get out of my Jeep to head inside my apartment. Since moving in, I haven’t done much with the place. Mostly because I haven’t had time. I picked up the bare essentials when it comes to furniture and unpacked my stuff, including a box of pots and pans that my mom bought me.

Even though I haven’t really settled in, the place is a disaster zone. I haven’t done dishes in about a week and have made my bed…well, never.

I throw my keys on the bar in the kitchen and head into my bedroom, where the sheets are a mess and the laundry is overflowing.

I really need to look into hiring a housekeeper. Not that I’m opposed to housework, but I honestly don’t have the time or energy.

Since I’m here, I grab my laundry hamper and take it to the washer and dryer in the utility closet near the bathroom, and start loading clothes in the washer. Might as well start chores while I’m thinking about it.

After starting the wash, I pick up my phone to call my parents to tell them the news and see that I have a missed text from one of my teammates, Jeremiah Deeks.

He’s the same age as Jason and has been playing for the Saints for the last three years. He’s an amazing player and a really outgoing, fun guy. When I reported to the field for my first day of practice, he was the first person to introduce himself to me in the locker room and has taken me under his wing since then.

Heard the good news, man. Congrats! Not that it’s a surprise.

I text back,
Thanks. Definitely a weight off my shoulders
.

He immediately writes,
QB and his wife are throwing a party this weekend. You in?

Our quarterback, Jax Montgomery, is the bedrock of our team. The guys treat him like a god. Though he’s been nothing but nice to me, he hasn’t exactly been friendly. Deeks told me that he tends to be aloof with the rookies until they make the team.

Which I have now. But I don’t want to assume I’m invited, show up, and then have Montgomery be surprised that I’m crashing his party.

Am I allowed?

I feel a little dumb asking, but I’d rather not upset the team captain just as I’ve made the team.

You’re on the team. I’m sure you’ll get an invite when Jax hears the news
.

I seriously doubt he hasn’t heard the news already, considering that Deeks already knows. An invite has yet to surface.

If I get an invite from him, I’ll come. Courtney is in town this weekend, though.

I move into the kitchen to start on the dishes and hear my phone vibrate on the counter a few minutes later.

The lady! She’ll absolutely be welcome. I’m excited to meet her
.

I smile, glad Deeks is excited to meet Courtney. I try not to talk about my personal life in the locker room—when I’m at practice, my head needs to be on the field and in the playbook—but when they bring up dating or their significant others, I am more than happy to talk about her.

As I finish up the dishes, I realize I still haven’t called my family to let them know I’m officially an NFL player. Probably need to rectify that before Courtney tells her family the news and they get on the phone to talk it over with my parents.

The next day, news of my invitation to the team—as well as the players released—is in the sports headlines. My phone is blowing up with congrats from my friends and former teammates, all promising to buy my jersey and asking if they can score free tickets to games.