Yo. Fourth of July. Our place. Naomi’s already planning the whole damn thing— red, white, and bougie. You in?
Dylan smirked. He could already picture Naomi, looking like Vivica A. Fox’s clone, going all out with themed drinks, an inflatable waterslide, and probably a sparkler choreography that’d make the halftime show jealous.
Rocky and Naomi had been his people from the moment he was drafted. They were the kind of couple who reminded him what stability looked like— ride-or-die, no drama, just constant love and brutally honest advice.
He tapped out a reply.
Depends. Might be back in Honeyshore.
The bubbles appeared instantly.
Honeyshore?? Mac, you never go home. What’s in Honeyshore?
Dylan paused, staring at the screen.
Then typed.
Something I should’ve never left behind.
He didn’t even have time to lock his screen before his phone lit up again— this time with an incoming call from Rocky. Of course.
Dylan sighed, chuckled under his breath, and answered.
“Jesus, Rock, you couldn’t just text?”
“You dropthatbomb and expect atextreply?” Rocky’s voice boomed, already loud and amplified by the telltale echo of speakerphone.
“Hi Mac!” Naomi chimed sweetly in the background. “We want details. Who is she?”
He dragged a hand down his face, leaning his head back on the couch cushion. “Y’all are too much.”
“No,” Rocky said, mock-stern. “You’re too much. You’re over here talking aboutsomething you should’ve never left behind, like you’re a damn country song. Spill it.”
“Yeah,” Naomi added. “You sound like a man who’s beenwrecked. I know that tone.”
Dylan laughed despite himself, trying to sidestep, heat creeping up his neck. “It’s not like that.”
“Bullshit,” they both said at the same time.
Naomi continued, “You’ve barely looked twice at anyone since you got drafted. And now you’re skipping parties, driving home, disappearing off the grid for a weekend— don’t act like we’re not gonna put two and two together.”
He paused, then said carefully, “It’s someone from back home. From college.”
“Oooh,” Naomi whispered like she’d just opened a good book. “A college sweetheart.”
Rocky groaned. “Damn, Mac. This is serious.”
“I didn’t say that,” Dylan replied quickly, though his voice lacked conviction. “We’re just… catching up.”
“Right,” Rocky deadpanned. “And I’m just a tight end.”
Naomi laughed, and Dylan could hear the clink of a wine glass in the background.
“Look,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”
“Then we’ll let it slidethis once,” Naomi said, all warmth. “But if this turns into something real, we get to meet her.”
“And approve her,” Rocky added.
