“I need reassurance from my agent that I have a fighting chance at getting my old job back. I want to return to the League.”

Jamar couldn’t remember a time he’d seen Micah Hill speechless. He stared at the screen in confusion, as if he were trying to decide if he was looking at an actual person or an alien pod.

“You want to play football again? In the NFL? With a shattered knee?”

“You do remember that I had several surgeries to repair that shattered knee, don’t you? I’m stronger, Micah. I can do this. I’ve been working toward this since I started rehab. Last month I hired a trainer and—”

“Wait, wait. You hired a trainer? Since when?”

“I just said last month. Are you listening to me or what?”

“I keep my ear to the ground. I haven’t heard a single peep about you working with a trainer.”

“That’s because she isn’t part of the normal NFL circuit.”

“She?”

“Yeah, she. And she’s brilliant.”

Understanding dawned in Micah’s eyes. “This is that girl you’re dating, isn’t it? The one from that video. Rhea texted me a screenshot of an article she found on some gossip website with the two of you eating ice cream. At the time I thought it was ridiculous that anyone would care who you were eating ice cream with, but it looks as if I need to pay more attention to those gossip sites.”

“Yeah, about that,” Jamar said. “We’re not really dating. It’s just a front because I didn’t want it to get out that I was working with a trainer.” He told him about the episode with Alec Mooney during the Longhorns’ practice.

“Well, your plan is working. Rhea’s been trying to come up with a name for you. She liked Jamaylor more than TayJar.”

Jamar couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t understand the obsession with celebrity gossip, but if it keeps the press occupied, they can call us whatever they want, as long as I can keep my plans under wraps until the end of the regular season. I figure I’ll have a better chance with a team that doesn’t make the playoffs. That’s where you see the most roster moves.”

“And this is where I come in,” Micah said.

Jamar nodded. “I want you to send invites to attend a private workout where I’ll go through the battery of tests used at the Combine.” He ran a hand down his face. “Look, Micah, I know it’s a long shot. It’s not as if I’m expecting to be a starter or anything.”

“Not so fast. Maybe you can start,” Micah said.

His head flinched back. “What do you mean?”

An eruption of laughter came from somewhere in the distance.