Mr. Fiancé(152)

"Thirty-two," Coach Taylor says. "Better than anyone at the Combine!"

I'm gasping for air, but glad. I have fifteen minutes, then the one non-standard event for our Pro Day. At the urging of Coach Taylor, I'm going to do a deadlift demonstration, putting my left arm in the greatest strain I could place it in, just so everyone sees that my elbow is of no concern. The bar is set up, and I see that seven teams have their scouts watching.

The idea is grueling, and straight out of Coach Taylor's strongman days. Starting with 315 pounds, I lift the bar once, then on command, set it down, where Carrie and Coach T put a twenty-five-pound plate on each side. I lift again, set it down, and the process repeats itself.

I work my way up to 465, and I can hear the scouts whispering to themselves. I'm getting into the heavy territory, where a lot of tight ends fail. I'm tall, with long legs. I'm not built for this like Coach T is. It doesn't matter.

Finally, at 615, I have to hitch the bar up, and I set it down, the demonstration finished. My lower back and hands feel like someone just coated them in napalm and set them on fire, but I'm happy with the looks in the scouts’ faces.

"Damn good job, son," one of the scouts says as he leaves. "Hope you saved something to run routes though."

Tyler's also nervous, but we've got five receivers and me running for him. He's got plenty of options, and I've got plenty of rest in between reps. The cuts are sharp, my extension is good, and by the end of our demonstration, including Tyler hitting me with a very nice forty-yard-long heave, I'm happy. We nailed it.

The first thing I do after the last toss is grab Carrie in a hug, lifting her up and swinging her around. She's been just as nervous as I have. I've seen it in her face. She even threw up this morning because she was so nervous, something I'd never expect her to do, but now, she's just as happy as I am. "You did it, Duncan! You were amazing!"

"No. We did it," I tell her, setting her down. “I could’ve never done it without you.”

Before Carrie can say anything, a man coughs politely behind us. "Excuse me, Duncan?"

I turn to see a man in his forties, maybe about two inches shorter than me, one of the scouts from the Pro Day. He's wearing a Jacksonville Wildcats jacket, and I remember him from the deadlift demonstration. He was the one who asked if I still had something left to run routes with. "Yes, how can I help you, sir? I hope I did well enough for the Wildcats to feel I didn't waste your time."

"Waste our time?" the scout asks with a laugh. “That was one of the most impressive Pro Day performances I've seen in eighteen years of doing this gig. By the way, I'm Scott Browning, head of scouting for the Jacksonville Wildcats."

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Browning. This is my girlfriend and trainer, Carrie Mittel."

Carrie shakes hands with Browning, who beams. "You helped him prepare for this? You must be good."

"Thank you, Coach Taylor," Carrie says demurely. "He's the one who taught me so much."

"Duncan, I wanted to come by and congratulate you on a hell of a workout, and I was wondering . . . what would you say to playing in Jacksonville next year?"

I stop, blinking. "The Wildcats? Really?"

Browning nods. "Really. We got ourselves a hell of a deal a while back in a trade with Seattle. You may remember it. We got Troy Wood, and the way it fell out, the Hawks’ first round draft pick in this draft. On the bad side, we had to give up our best wide receiver and a right tackle. Still, it was enough to get us to the Wild Card round of the playoffs, and this year, the coaches are telling me to look for offensive talent. I was thinking, if you're still on the board, that is, on using that number nine draft pick we've got to pick you. What do you say?"

I look at Carrie, who nods.

I laugh and look back to Browning. "I'd say if you do, I'll be happy to sign with the 'Cats."

"Great. Now, that's not formal. I still need to talk to the GM and coaches, but I swing a little weight around there. If you can, keep your schedules clear, and the team will probably want to fly you down to Florida for some interviews, see how you mesh with everyone. Say, Spring Break time?"

I nod, then hold up a finger. "One request, Mr. Browning. Think you can make it two tickets? Carrie trained me, and she should get a chance to go too."

Browning smiles while Carrie looks at me in happy surprise. "I think we can arrange that. I'll be in touch, Duncan. Great work today."





Chapter 22





Carrie





I've been to the campus health clinic before. I mean, almost every girl has. Even after Duncan and I first made love, I still came down here, just to get checked. Duncan knew about that. He did it himself, too, and we both had a laugh over exchanging our test results after they came back. Call it the reality of sex in the twenty-first century.