Draft pick season i, p.1
Draft Pick Season I, page 1
Draft Pick Season One: Carver
DRAFT PICK
DARIE MCCOY
Copyright © 2023 by Darie McCoy
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by: All That’s Wright
Cover Art/Design: A.S. McCoy
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Sneak Peek
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Darie McCoy
For the nerdy girls. I see you. Also, for all of the readers who loved and cheered for Carver and Alyssa just as hard as I did.
Prologue
Everyone’s eyes were glued to the television as they listened to the commentators reviewing player stats. They waited anxiously for the actual draft to begin. Finally, the commissioner took the stage and Carver asked his girlfriend, Mary Beth to move to allow his mother to sit beside him. His dad stood behind him with his hands on Carver’s shoulders.
Unlike most players being considered for the NFL draft, Carver had chosen to have a gathering to watch the televised broadcast rather than attend the event in person. His agent was noticeably unhappy about the decision, but he appeared to have resigned himself to the current arrangement. Sitting in an armchair near Carver’s position, he intermittently called out instructions to the small camera crew.
Alyssa watched the scene play out between Carver and Mary Beth as her friend poked her bottom lip out, pouting prettily. A brief scowl flit across Carver’s face. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to get Mary Beth moving. Although, she didn’t go far. She perched her narrow behind on the arm of the sofa, sliding in as closely as she could in order to stay in the frame of at least one of the cameras operated by the small crew.
Alyssa didn’t consider herself a part of that inner circle. So, she sat off to the side sipping her fruity drink. Her thoughts regarding the interaction between Carver and Mary Beth would stay firmly locked inside her brain unless she was asked about it specifically.
Her gaze returned to the large, wall-mounted, flat screen TV just as the commissioner announced the first pick of the 2005 draft. As the analysts predicted, it was him, Tech’s starting quarterback—Carver Wyatt Jamieson.
The room erupted in celebration. Camera flashes brightened the room as the video crew documented it all. No doubt it would be replayed on a loop during the endless cycle of sports shows that discussed the NFL draft for days to come. Carver smiled so big; she thought his face might split in two. His parents were alternately hugging him and each other.
Looking up from their embrace, his gaze swept the room as if he were looking for something. Feeling confident in her position on the periphery, she wondered what it could be, but didn’t look around to track his stare. When his eyes landed on her, his face splitting smile brightened even more. His excitement was contagious. So, she returned the smile without hesitation. She was genuinely happy for him.
A tug on his arm broke their connection and Alyssa observed Mary Beth trying her best to insert herself into the middle of the circle his parents created. Tossing an arm around her shoulders, Carver pulled her into his side as he answered his cellphone. His mother fanned her hands and used shushing motions to quiet the room as Carver spoke with the owner of the team to which he’d just been drafted.
He was the number one draft pick of a team in the midst of rebuilding. If the sports experts were correct, the team was going to pay him a shit-ton of money to pull the franchise back to greatness. Alyssa was confident he’d do just that.
Her certainty wasn’t misplaced. Carver was more than an impressive athlete. He was the total package. A true student of the game, he spent hours weekly pouring over old footage and scouting videos. In addition to his knowledge of the game, he was intelligent, considerate of his teammates, and kind to everyone he met while maintaining the ability to be ferocious when necessary.
Although she knew how he and Mary Beth met, she often wondered what kept them together. Mary Beth didn’t quite match him in more than one of those areas. For all intents and purposes, her friend was in college to find a husband. Actual course study came in at a distant second. She’d never be accused of overtaxing her brain or spending too much time on her lessons, not leaving enough time for him.
She wondered at the tie binding them together, but Alyssa felt it wasn’t her place to question their relationship. It wasn’t like she wanted to date Mary Beth. Nor had Carver or anyone similar to him ever looked twice at her with more than a passing interest. Not that she lacked male attention. She just wasn’t very interested in most of the guys who approached her.
As she watched the room, Carver’s cousin slid into the seat next to her. She’d taken up residence at the high-top café style table slightly away from the festivities. Lord…She hoped he wasn’t seriously there to hit on her. He was a nice-looking guy, but something about him didn’t sit well with her.
“Hey there, beautiful. Why are you sitting over here all alone?”
Working to keep her internal eye roll from becoming an actual eye roll, Alyssa gestured around the room.
“These are the only available seats left.” She was polite, but decidedly standoffish.
“Ah… I guess you’re right. I hadn’t noticed.”
His chuckle at her response, came off as disingenuous since not only was her statement not funny, but she hadn’t attempted to couch it as a joke. His smile appeared pasted on an otherwise placid looking face.
Studying the contents of her cup as if it held the secrets to deciphering the complex algorithm she had programmed for the final project in her Python class, she mentally wished him away. When she looked up from her cup, he was still there.
His stare tracked her movements as she placed the straw between her lips and drew deeply on the drink. That’s not creepy at all. The thought crossed her mind accompanied by another internal eyeroll. The slurping noises of the empty cup were a welcome sound.
“Excuse me, I’m going to go get a refill.” She scooted forward to step down from the tall chair.
“What are you drinking? I’ll get it for you.” He offered.
I think the fuck not. The words blared across Alyssa’s mind, but instead of giving them voice, she politely declined.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can get it.”
Thankfully, he got the hint and slinked away. Relieved that there wouldn’t be a scene which turned into a thing to create awkwardness, she left the table and moved into the kitchen.
She was the designated driver, so she restricted herself to mocktails and sodas. Both Mary Beth and Carver had asked her to come tonight, although she couldn’t figure out why. One-on-one interactions with Carver were few and far between, even though she never missed a game. Each Saturday, she was right beside her friend cheering him on—no matter what the weather.
At the start of the evening, Alyssa fully expected to drive back to the apartment she shared with Mary Beth alone. She figured her friend would stay with Carver either at the suite or at his apartment. Now, as Mary Beth entered the kitchen with her face pinched in displeasure, Alyssa wasn’t so sure.
“Can you believe what just happened!?”
Mary Beth’s face flushed and her cheeks pinkened under her peachy complexion. Her fists clenched at her sides as she strode to stand next to Alyssa at the kitchen island.
“What do you mean? Everyone knew Carver would go number one. Why is that a surprise? He’s a great quarterback.”
Alyssa refilled the ice in her cup before looking over the beverage selection trying to decide if she wanted to continue with the alcohol-free daiquiri mix.
“Not that. We all knew that.” Flipping her long straw-colored hair over her shoulder she moved in closer to Alyssa. Glancing over her shoulder before she lowered her voice to continue. “Can you believe he asked me to move so his mother could sit beside him? That was supposed to be my spot! I’ve been his girlfriend for two years now.”
She whisper-hissed when she said the word mother, and stopped just shy of stomping her foot with the last sentence. The whine in Mary Beth’s voice annoyed her, but Alyssa kept her face neutral. She didn’t personally have an issue with Carver wanting his mom beside him at such a crucial moment in his career. She actually expected it. Why hadn’t Mary Be
“Mary Beth, why wouldn’t he want his mother beside him?”
“Because! I’m going to be his wife. It should’ve been me holding his hand while they made the announcement. The same way it’s been me for the past two years cheering for him and traveling to support him.”
“Wait! Carver asked you to marry him?” Alyssa’s eyes widened in excitement.
“Not yet, but I know he will.” Mary Beth tipped her chin up as if her words were a foregone conclusion.
Alyssa’s surprise melted into confusion. Her brow pinched as she regarded her friend. “How do you know that? Have you guys talked about it? You’re still a month out from graduation.”
Both Carver and Mary Beth were two years older than Alyssa. Because of the program she enrolled in, she wouldn’t graduate until the following spring. When she did, she’d receive her bachelor’s and master’s degrees on the same day. It was a grueling program, but Alyssa felt it was worth it.
“Oh Alyssa… When you have someone that is into you the way Carver is into me, you’ll understand. I’ll be his wife. The rest is just minor details.”
“Oh. Okay then. If you say so.” Far be it for her to tell Mary Beth what could or couldn’t happen in her own relationship.
“I do, which is why I’m pissed that I had to perch on the arm of the sofa like some hanger-on instead of being in my rightful place beside him.”
“I think you’re over-reacting.”
“What?! Why?”
“That’s his mother, Mary Beth.” Alyssa struggled to keep her frustration from showing.
“And?”
Mary Beth’s flip reply rubbed Alyssa the wrong way. So much so that she allowed the bridle, she usually kept on herself, to loosen when she responded.
“She’s the woman who gave birth to him. The one who wiped his runny nose, patched his boo-boos and did any number of things to get him to this point in his life.”
“I nursed him when he was sick and rubbed him down when he was sore, so what’s your point?”
Not bothering to correct Mary Beth’s statement regarding rubbing him down and nursing him through sickness, Alyssa took a calming breath. Her friend had selective memory. When Carver had soreness in his throwing arm and shoulder, it was Alyssa who rubbed him down—at Mary Beth’s insistence. It was also the soup Alyssa made which Mary Beth fed Carver when he was sick.
Maybe merely asking Alyssa to physically do those things was what Mary Beth considered doing it herself. Like hiring staff. Alyssa didn’t care for the image that evoked. Mentally, she shook herself and marveled at her friend’s ability to hear what Alyssa said while missing the entire point.
“Mary Beth, you’ve done those things for roughly two years. His mother’s been there for him for all twenty-two years of his life. She’s the one who trekked all over the city then the country taking him first to practice, then games and God knows what else after that.
She’s the one who sacrificed so he could have the opportunity to even be considered for the NFL draft. Her. Not you. Why would you expect to have more importance than her in his life right now?”
“Because! I’m going to be his wife! I should be more important. Aren’t you always saying a husband should put his wife first?”
“Yes, but you aren’t his wife. Going to be and being are not the same thing. Right now, you’re his girlfriend. Girlfriend doesn’t come before mother.”
“I should have known you’d take his side.” Mary Beth crossed her arms over her chest and angled her body away from Alyssa.
Sighing in irritation, Alyssa attempted to speak reasonably to her friend. “I’m not taking sides. I’m just pointing out some things you’re over-looking.”
“Well, it sounds like you’re taking his side.”
“Mary Beth, there are no sides here and if you want to know what I really think, I’ll tell you.”
“Don’t stop now. This is apparently dump on Mary Beth night.”
Shutting her lids against the wave of annoyance, Alyssa ignored the attempt to manipulate her into feeling guilty. Occasionally, Mary Beth could be self-absorbed. This wasn’t the time or the place for her antics.
“I think you should pick your lip up off the floor and go back in that room and support your man. It’s not about you right now. This is his moment. Acting this way, trying to make him choose between you and his mother, it won’t end well for you. If you can’t see that, I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Lifting her drink from the counter, Alyssa moved around Mary Beth and exited the kitchen. As she crossed the threshold, she almost ran smack into Carver’s mother. Mumbling quick apologies, she stepped aside. Walking double-time, she went back to reclaim her seat at the high-top table.
Her cheeks heated with embarrassment as she considered the possibility that Carver’s mother overheard them. If she heard even a portion of it, it was a bad look for Mary Beth. For her friend’s sake, she hoped Mrs. Jamieson hadn’t heard anything. However, Alyssa’s gut told her that hope was wishful thinking.
Chapter One
IS THIS SOME KIND OF TEST?
Fifteen years later
“Hey, Mama. I can’t talk long. I’m getting ready to go out.” Alyssa rushed the words out as soon as she answered the insistently ringing phone.
“You’re actually going out?” Surprise, along with disbelief laced her mother’s voice.
Alyssa’s eyes rolled in exasperation. So what if she didn’t like going out all the time or taking the thirty minute drive into Vegas to live it up in the bright lights of Sin City. It didn’t mean she was a complete hermit as her mother’s question implied.
“Yes, Mama. I’m going out. I have a date with Torrence.” Putting the call on speaker, she went back to the task of preparing for her date.
“Oh. Okay. Well, I won’t hold you long.” The line went silent as Alyssa waited for her mother to get to the point of her call.
She didn’t miss the flat tone of her mother’s speech when she heard ‘going out’ included Torrence. It was no secret that Anna Ripley didn’t think Torrence was worth Alyssa’s time.
“What’s up, Mama?” Alyssa attempted to keep her impatience from carrying over into her words, but her mama’s version of not long usually meant at least twenty minutes. She didn’t have twenty minutes to dawdle catching up on family gossip—which was usually why her mother called.
“Huh? Oh, sorry. Right. Your father and I were watching one of those sports reporting shows he likes earlier today and I saw your friend Carver. They said he has a new job as the Quarterback Coach with the Las Vegas Ravagers.
I thought to myself, I need to call Alyssa and see why she didn’t tell me about it. So…Why didn’t you tell me your friend from college was moving out there? You know how we worry about you being in Vegas all by yourself.”
Alyssa’s lids dropped over her eyes and her head tilted back on her shoulders. “Mama…First of all, Carver Jamieson and I aren’t friends. We weren’t friends in college. He dated my roommate Mary Beth and was friendly towards me. We weren’t friends. Second, I don’t follow football like that.”
Even as she spoke the words, she knew her assertion of not following football was a blatant lie. She’d been known to rattle off stats better than both of her brothers and her father. Whether her mother would call her on it was the question.
“I had no idea he’d been hired by the Ravagers.”
Another lie. She didn’t live directly in Vegas, but she was close enough that her local news carried the story of the hotshot former pro-bowler who’d been hired by the Ravagers to spread his quarterback magic onto the struggling offense.
