My hand pauses, my thumbs holding tight against her cheeks. “My Logan Baker?”
She half laughs, half coughs. “Do you have something going on with Logan?”
I shake my head. “Lately, I prefer to stay far away from him.”
“I think he’s afraid to lose you. He offered me the same job and says it’s because of Alton Rennie.”
“Alton Rennie?”
She nods. “He knows Nick, and I guess Nick has a lot of nice things to say about me.”
I finally drop my hands as I have a lightbulb moment. “Alton… this all makes sense.”
“What does?”
“I couldn’t remember where I knew him from or why he was riding my ass so hard about my steps. It’s something Nick used to get on me about, taking too long in the pocket or getting too far away from protection. I don’t know why, but the five has always been my thing.”
“Because it was your dad’s.”
She’s right. I used to watch DVDs of him playing, long before I knew he was my dad. I wanted to be like the great Liam Westbury. Play like him, be him. “Nick used to harp on me. In high school, he brought in this specialist – Ren. They tried to change my footwork, but I refused.”
“Alton Rennie,” she whispers while I nod. “He told Logan to hire me.”
I sit back and look out the window. Peyton working for the Pioneers. I sort of like the idea. “But, why? Not that I don’t think you’d be amazing.”
“I don’t know. Logan didn’t say much, just that they can’t offer me the same package, but I’d have the same position. He said Alton told him he’d be stupid not to hire me.”
Finally, I turn and look at the love of my life. “What are you going to tell them?”
“How would you feel about me being there, every day? I’d be paid to point out what you’re doing wrong, where the defense is breaking down.”
“Remember it was just mini-camp.”
Peyton shrugs. “I notice everything, especially when you’re playing.”
“I think you should take the job.”
“Are you sure, Noah? This would mean we’d have zero separation. I’d travel with the team.”
I waggle my eyebrows at her. “I wonder if they’d let us share a hotel room?”
Peyton slaps my arm. “Be honest with me.”
Leaning over, I cup the back of her neck and pull her toward me. Our lips hover closely. “Take the job, Peyton.” I pull away, putting some space between us so I can talk to her. “You might as well get paid to tell me when I suck instead of yelling at me after the game. Besides, I can’t get mad at you this way.”
She looks at me confusingly. “Have you ever gotten mad at me before?”
Nope, she’s got me there. “No, I haven’t because you’re always honest and would never say anything that wasn’t true. Still, I think you should take the job.”
“And what if you get traded?”
I grin quickly. Being traded isn’t something I ever want to think about. “Then we commute, just like we would now if you were to take one of the broadcasting jobs.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m going to do it.”