“I’m an idiot and searched for my name online. Before you tell me I need to stop doing that, believe me I know. It’s never good and even if it is, the next sentence is ten things I’ve done wrong. I’m constantly just being judged for what I’m doing or not doing, and I know it’s getting to me. I can feel it invading every last corner of my mind. I’m trying to shake it off, to just let things roll off my back, and give off the impression that outside chatter doesn’t affect me, but when is enough, enough? Every ounce I have, I’m leaving on that field, Mi. Even on days I’m not sure I even want to be out there. So that’s why I needed the distraction today. I needed you.”
“Well, you’ve got me, you goober,” I say softly, tapping my sneaker against his.
We’re standing against the railing near the river trail as the humid breeze hits our backs. There are a few boats passing through and countless people sitting outside at the restaurant next to us, but right now, it feels like it’s just the two of us. It’s always been this way with Nate. Easy. Comfortable. We’re constantly in our own little bubble and it’s always felt like my safe place, his too I think. His hands grip the railing as he stands there.
“Nate, there will always be people out there with something to say. You could never make a single mistake, miss a pass, or miss a block, and someone will complain that you’re too perfect. I know you feel the constant pressure to perform well. I know you have a lot you’re dealing with internally. But who you are as a man, the greatness in here”—I tap his chest—“your value isn’t tied to how well you play on the football field. Remember that. People are always going to throw stones. Instead of letting those stones knock you down, collect them and build yourself up.” Nate wraps me in a very tight, very needed hug—for both of us.
“Fuck,” Nate breathes out. “Sorry I turned this into another fucking pity party. My head’s all over the place.”
“Don’t apologize. I needed a hug,” I say, smiling. “I’ve been giving things some thought and I want to try and help you in any way that I can. I have an idea and just… hear me out. If you really hate it we don’t have to but—”
“Mia,” he cuts me off. “I won’t hate it.”
The buzzer vibrates in his hand, letting us know our table is ready. Once we are finally inside, Nate pulls out my chair and looks at me with amusement as we take our seats at the restaurant.
“I know the things you’re dealing with are confusing and hard to manage. I don’t know how to completely fix that, but I want to help you.”
“You help me all the time, Smalls. That won’t be anything new.”
The waiter comes over and takes our order, where we decide to split a stupid amount of sushi rolls, but sometimes you just need to go a little wild, right?
“We can do things that are specifically focused on relaxing you and getting away from the pressure. Like best friend dates, but solely focused on you. Things that make you happy and relaxed. Things that calm your mind and your body, so nothing competitive.” I have no idea if this is actually an idea that he’ll go for, but it’s where I’m at. I can tell Nate’s not in a good headspace. The way Nate has described the things he’s been dealing with hurts to hear. He’s usually upbeat and charismatic and I want so badly to help him work through everything he’s facing. I want him to know he doesn’t have to face it alone.
“Well, I like competition.” He smirks at me.
“Well, your nervous system doesn’t. So, you need some separation from that when you aren’t on the field. I know you’re struggling, Nate. You don’t need to hide it from me. You aren’t alone, let me help you the best way I know how.”
“We could—”
“Not golf,” I cut that train of thought immediately and he lets out a laugh.
“You’ve been going at full speed since I’ve known you. You don’t slow down and you don’t take breaks. You’ve put this immense pressure on yourself to be the best, and I get that. I really do. I understand how important your job is, but not at the cost of your mental health. That’s too high of a price and I love you too much to not try and help you. The power of just taking a pause is vastly underrated, Nate. So, what do you say?”
His smile broadens in approval. “Okay. I trust you.” His arms spread out, showing his wing span, which is pretty impressive.
“Perfect.” His infectious smile only causes my own to take shape.
Making sure the people around me are happy and feel good is practically my life’s calling, and if anyone deserves to be undeniably happy, it’s Nate.
Tonight is Ford and Abby’s engagement party and I’m honestly just dying to know what Nate’s got planned for all of the ice he’s bringing.
“Wow,” Nate says as I’m walking out of my room and he’s standing at my kitchen island. I run my hands over my stomach on the champagne colored dress I’m wearing and look up at him. I’ve had this dress for years, it’s probably the fanciest one in my closet. It’s got an open back and has a low-cut V in the front. Not that I have a lot of cleavage to show off, but this dress is comfortable and I’ve always loved the color.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You just… You look really fucking beautiful, Mia. Damn.” Nate’s never complimented me like that. And he rarely uses my actual name. Sure, he’s told me I look beautiful before, but something feels different in that one. He works his eyes up and down my body as he says it and I watch his throat move as he swallows.
“Oh, thank you. Is Summer ready?” I ask.
“She is!” Summer shouts from the doorway as she stands there in a short black dress with big loose curls.
“You look great, Summer,” Nate simply states.
See. That. That’s how he’s supposed to react to me. Normal, with very few words. Not wide eyes and a hanging jaw with two swear words in his sentence.
She smiles and I grab my bag and walk all of us out towards the door. Once we get into Nate’s truck, I see he very clearly did bring his A-game with the ice. He has bags of it. Different kinds of it. Cubed, crushed and the small nugget pieces of ice. I’m looking in the backseat where Summer has squeezed herself in next to one of the coolers.
“This is ridiculous,” she mutters and gives me a dirty look.
