My hand is dwarfed by his giant paw as we shake, which is saying something. “Glad to finally be here.”
“You’ve been incognito as hell, man. Hiding out in the mountains?”
Yes, actually. “Just settling in.”
More guys appear to welcome me to the team, and some of my worries melt away. The camaraderie is familiar in a way I didn’t notice I missed. This is my world. What I know how to do.
The press conference is exactly what I expected, too. There are the usual questions about my move from Cincinnati and what I’m looking forward to with the Grizzlies.
“I’m excited to make a home in Colorado,” I say into the microphone, and the words feel strange in my mouth.
A home. What does that even mean to me?
It’s not the sterile McMansion I bought or my condo in Cincinnati. Home has become a cozy house in a small foothills town with two females who make me want things I never thought I could have.
When the press conference ends, I do more handshaking and small talk making.
“Felix Barlowe,” someone says from behind me. The voice is deep and authoritative. I turn to find Tom Matheson, the Grizzlies’ franchise quarterback, leaning against a nearby doorframe. He’s shorter than me by a few inches, with the kind of steady presence that clearly communicates he’s the team leader.
“Tom. Nice to see you again. I’m?—”
“Walk with me.” It’s not a question.
We head down a hallway away from the crowds, and it feels like I’m being called into the principal’s office.
“I heard about what happened in Cincinnati with Russ,” he says once we’re alone in a small conference room.
My jaw clenches. I didn’t think anyone outside of Cincinnati knew about that. About finding Ronnie and Russ together. The spectacular implosion of both my relationship and my friendship, not to mention the effect it had on the field.
“That wasn’t?—”
“You don’t have to explain.” Tom crosses his long arms over his chest, studying me. “I’m going to say this once: some of the guys on this team are partiers. Young guys, mostly. You know how it goes. They like to hit the clubs, get wild, live that baller lifestyle.”
I do know, even if that lifestyle doesn’t hold a lick of interest for me anymore. But I stay quiet, curious to see where this is going.
“If that’s what you want, more power to you. You’re not a young gun anymore, but we both know you’ve got a lot of football left if you play it right.” He pauses. “We’re going to prove something together this season, and that’s a hell of a lot easier when you’ve got something solid off the field too.”
“Like what you’ve got,” I murmur, thinking of how Tom’s reputation off the field is as steady as his arm on a third down and long. Everyone knows he’s a family man through and through. He never cared for the spotlight, the headlines, or the brand deals. He plays his heart out and then goes home to the only thing that really matters to him.
“Exactly like what I’ve got. Football’s a huge part of my life, but it’s not the whole of it. My wife and three kids are what’s most important. When I have a shit game, they remind me I’m more than the stats. When we win, they celebrate with me. But they also expect me to take out the trash and help with homework. My career doesn’t give me a pass on showing up for what really matters, and that’s made a huge difference.”
“I don’t have a wife or three kids,” I tell him. But where a few months ago I couldn’t have imagined myself with either, now I know what he means. I understand what it’s like to value the people I love over the game.
Love.Oh, fuck.
I wait for the panic to roll through me, but instead, my heart seems to settle. Like it’s been waiting for me to figure it out. I love Ellie, and I’m in love with Piper. Head over fucking heels.
“Figure out what matters to you.” Tom studies me like he’s seeing more than I want him to. “Because having something waiting for you at home makes every part of the job even better.”
He claps me on the shoulder and walks away, leaving me alone with my spinning thoughts.
Can I be the guy who has it all—the career, the family, the home that actually means something?
An image pops into my head of Ellie, Piper, and our baby. The four of us are in a house that’s more than a stale showpiece. There are toys scattered around and laughter filling the rooms.
And I want all of it, which scares the living crap out of me because wanting something like that means opening myself up to the possibility of losing it. Of having my heart shattered all over again.
But maybe that’s the point. Maybe the things worth having are supposed to scare you.
