To be her hero.
Her lucky charm.
Sure, some of my motivation stems from guilt. My path to the NFL seemed to be laid out so easily for me, and Mia’s journey has been a total ride on the struggle bus. We were both successful athletes in college, but now I’m the one with a 10,000 square foot house and a guaranteed multi-million dollar contract and she’s worried about paying her rent in that shit apartment next month.
It isn’t fair.
This isn’t how it was supposed to be.
But all I can do is stay by her side, be her friend, and do however much she allows me to do for her.
For now anyway, that will have to be enough.
Seventeen
RUSH
It’s beenan average morning of training camp. I’m finally remembering all the rookies’ names and memorizing the season’s new plays, both of which have been hard tasks since I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Why? Because a little physical therapist I know has been haunting my dreams and making me wake in the middle of the night with a brick hard dick and no solution in sight.
That’s why I’ve been ducking her at work.
It’s a bitch move, but I feel like Mia would definitely see right through me if we spend any meaningful time in conversation. My eyes go straight for her tits and ass now. It’s like I can’t control the little fuckers. Eventually she’s going to figure out that something is different with me and I’m not ready to have that conversation. Hell, I don’t think she’s ready to hear it. I almost wenttherethe night she cooked me dinner, and she was practically running from me in her own damn house.
At first I thought, maybe I’ll tell her. Maybe we could talk it through. Me dreaming that I’m banging the hell out of my best friend? Me wanting to actually act on some of those dreams? Then I came to my senses. That conversation would not go over well at all.
Mia has been working at her new job for three weeks now and she seems to have made a smooth adjustment into her role as a team physical therapist. The first week of her being a bright and shiny new object in the locker room has settled down now, and the guys are learning and accepting that she’s a skilled clinician who is simply here to do a job.
Let me rephrase that.
Everyone is accepting that but Samuels.
Which is another reason why I can’t sleep.
He thinks he’s so slick, but I’ve been watching him out the corner of my eye at every turn. He’s been sure not to cross any lines with Mia, but he’s always there like a fly on shit. Smiling when she walks by on her way to a training room. Putting on a show for her when she’s on the field and running fast like an Olympic sprinter. Conveniently eating when she’s having lunch. Asking her questions about muscles he doesn’t even know the names for.
I’m hip to his hustle.
He’s slowly trying to groom her with his charming personality and humorous jokes, and once he thinks he’s waited the appropriate amount of time, he’s going to go in for the kill. Just because I asked him to back off, it feels as if he’s going in even harder. He’s fucking with me as if this is some sort of game to him, but he’s going to learn very soon if he keeps it up, that I am not to be fucked with.
My mood improves once I notice Mia across the field. She’s dressed in a pair of fitted black sweatpants with a thick stripe down the side and a white v-neck t-shirt with the Nighthawk logo. Even in the official team sweats, Bird looks sexy as fuck.
She hops into a golf cart and drives in my direction.
“You all right?” I ask her, doing my best to keep my eyes on hers and not on how good her tits look in that white shirt.
“Are you going to ask me that every time I see you? It’s been a month,paw-paw.”
“It’s been three weeks.”
Three weeks and she still isn’t using her cane.
“Where’s your cane?”
“I don’t need it today.”
“You sure you aren’t pushing yourself too hard, Bird?”
“I’m sure. It’s like the spirits know I need to be on my A game and are looking out for me. I haven’t had any serious pain in weeks. She lifts both her knees with her hands on her hips to show me how limber she is.
