How was he supposed to respond to that? “I know. But cut her a little slack, you know? She makes good choices.”
“Does she? What about Levon? What about David? What about Jamal? None of those losers treated her right.”
“Well, maybe someday the right guy will come along, and you’ll have to give her credit for choosing the right man.”
Drake grinned. “Maybe I should choose a man for her.”
“Oh right. And who would that be?”
Drake took a long pull of his beer. “Hell if I know. I don’t think any man is good enough for her.”
“Not even me?”
Drake laughed. “Especially not you.”
Well, shit.
Thirty-One
With vacation at an end, it was time for work to begin.
Barrett had reported for training camp a week ago. Rookies had already been there two weeks prior. He remembered what that nightmare was like his rookie season. An entire month of not only not knowing what the hell he was doing, but grueling, daylong practices and meetings until his head spun.
He was glad he at least knew the playbook, unlike the rookies. Now it was more a case of meetings with their defensive coach, shaking off the dust and getting his body and mind ready for the season.
Truth told, he’d been geared up and ready for months now. He and Drake and many of the defensive players did workouts together at least three times a week, working with a trainer to keep them in shape during the off-season.
He’d never felt better, and never more prepared for a season.
He and Drake stood on the field now. They weren’t in pads today, which meant they couldn’t lay down hits, but they could run the defensive drills, check out what their team looked like this year.
From man-to-man to zone coverage, they’d looked solid the past week going through every play. Running through daily films, they had looked good. Rookie pickups had been excellent, and they caught on fast. Preseason play was coming soon, and Barrett wasn’t sure he’d ever been as confident in the defense as he was this year.
Today they were running drills with the offense. No full contact, which was typical for some days at training camp, but they’d at least get the running and the plays in, to know where they were supposed to be. Good practice for their quarterbacks and receivers, too, since, in Barrett’s opinion, they’d be playing against one of the best defenses in the league.
He went toe-to-toe with their wide receiver Trevor Shay on a long pass from JW Zeman, their quarterback. Barrett stayed in step and batted the pass away.
“Fuck me,” Shay said, as they ran it off.
“Sucking a little wind there, Shay?” Barrett asked.
Trevor laughed. “Bite me, Cassidy. I’ll burn you on the next one.”
“We’ll see.”
Shay burned him on the next one.
“Asshole,” Barrett said, as Trevor trotted back with the ball in his hand and a grin on his face.
“Wanna see me do it again?”
“Fuck off, Shay.”
Trevor laughed.
They trotted back to the line, and this time Drake dropped back in zone coverage, Zeman threw the pass and Drake covered it for an incomplete pass.
At the break, they were called in for a meeting with Allen Quarles, their defensive coordinator. They went over the plays from the previous day and watched films, then had lunch and had some free time.
Barrett met up with Drake at the lounge area.
“Feeling good?” Drake asked.
“Like lightning in a bottle.”
Drake grinned. “Yeah, me too. Ready for camp to be done. First preseason game next week. We have a practice game against Miami tomorrow. I can’t wait.”
“Me, either. Defense is solid and I think we’re going to kick ass this season.”
“We’re going to kick Pittsburgh’s ass in game one, that’s for sure.
“At home. I’m ready to hear the crowd noise.”
As they made their way back outside, Drake slapped him on the back. “Gonna be loud.”
“And we’re gonna give them a win, start the season off right and kick some ass.”
“Hell yeah, brother.”
This was what Barrett loved about football season, about his friendship with Drake. They were in sync, they were ready to play, and together, they could do anything.
Including kick some serious ass.
Now was the time for football season.
Thirty-Two
Harmony was nervous as she stood in Barrett’s house waiting for him to show up. The transformation had been tremendous.
She’d spent the past week putting the finishing touches on his house. She and Barrett had shopped together and though he’d told her he really hated shopping, he’d given her free rein to pick and choose everything from living room furniture to nearly everything in the bedrooms. He told her he was going to rent out his condo furnished, so everything in this house was going to be new.
She’d never had more fun shopping. He’d probably had a lot less fun, but he’d been a great sport about it. They’d spent many nights after his long days of practice at furniture showrooms.
But, at least to her, it had all been worth it. As she walked around, she could see him occupying the spaces.
Walls were in place, drywall and paint had been completed, as had flooring and the entire kitchen.
The house didn’t look at all the same as it had when she’d first walked in all those weeks ago. Of course, that didn’t surprise her in the least. Jeff and his team were miracle workers. And she was happy with her design choices. With all the new furniture in place, from artwork to pillows to the flowers on the kitchen table, this home had her personal touch all over the place. But she’d also kept in mind who Barrett was, and she hoped she knew him well enough by now to know his likes and his dislikes, and who he was as a person. That always reflected on her design choices. Barrett was a man—definitely all man. Nothing frilly or fancy for him. But she also wanted the home to be aesthetically pleasing.