“It’ll only ever be you.”
It’s written in Nate’s chicken scratch handwriting and I pull the paper off the wall, turning back towards him as he stands in the doorway. Leaning against the frame, dark blue Henley with the sleeves pulled up and denim jeans, he smiles at me. His blue eyes are on fire tonight as I stare across the room at him. When Nate pulls himself away from the door, he meets me in the center of the room.
His hands cup my cheeks and slowly make their way to the sides of my neck, just below my ears. “I didn’t want the world to see who I’d become. But I’ve never had to pretend around you. There are so many parts of me that I was ashamed of, so many cracks within the man I was. But you filled those cracks. Every single one, Mia. You filled them with understanding, with laughter and compassion, with love. All of it was slowly killing me, I was breaking down, I could feel it. But as always, my best friend was the anchor that held me in place. You kept me from falling too far off course.” His eyes close as he leans his head down to mine and whispers. “Eres mi sol, mi luna y todas mis estrellas.”
You are my sun, my moon and all my stars.
“I love you. I’ve loved you since before I really even knew what that word meant. I just knew it was you. It was always supposed to be you.”
There’s a pull in my chest, a yank so strong and so full of force that I can’t ignore it. The words I’ve been holding onto spill from my lips.
“You got the Spanish right.” I quietly laugh as he smiles down at me. “Being with you used to scare me, Nate. I used to think that being anything more than your best friend meant losing that part of you, of us. But one thing I’ve learned is that just because you’re scared of the risk doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take it. And if you love someone, you tell them. Even if it scares the hell out of you, you say it. Because if you don’t, you’ll neverknow if you just missed out on the best part of your life. And I love you, Nate. In a really big and stupid way that makes me pretend to care about your golf obsession, and give you the last pink Starburst, in a hopelessly romantic kind of way that scares the ever loving crap out of me. But I know if I don’t just let myself feel the feelings and say them, I’ll regret it.”
Nate’s lips curve into a smile just before he leans his head down and kisses me.
I’ve realized that oftentimes, if you want big rewards, you need to take big risks. You’ll probably never be completely ready, there might always be the small one percent that has you holding back, but if you don’t take the chance on the things you want, you’ll never know.
“Ready to get back?” I ask Nate as he walks around his apartment this morning with me on FaceTime.
“Yeah, actually. Oddly enough, I think I need it.” His laugh is deep and rich. “I had my meeting with Coach Aarons, met with the team briefly already and I saw the team therapist the other day. Only thing left really is to get on the field and see what happens.”
Placing the phone down against my lamp, I walk into my closet and grab my jersey that bears the name Campbell with number 23 on the back.
“Seeing you in that today, knowing that you’re really mine, makes the sight so much sweeter.” His eyes full of desire as he stares at me pulling it over my head.
“Well, I’ve always been your biggest fan.”
“Yeah, but now I get to give you orgasms, so I’m really winning.” A devilish look washes over his eyes as I shake my head at him.
“Time to go, Campbell. Go have fun.” I nod and he blows a kiss through the phone before we disconnect.
“Back in the black and red, baby!” Liam sees me walking into the locker room before I’ve barely got both feet through the door.
Coach Aarons walks over, giving me a handshake as I place my bag on the bench near my locker. His grip is firm on my hand and he gives me a steadfast look and nods his head before he simply walks away.
All I can think about right now is the sixty minutes of game time that I need to be ready for. I’ve done more work on my mental state in the last three weeks than I think I’ve done in my whole goddamn lifetime. Dana, the team therapist, encouraged me to let myself feel all the things today. When I shared that I felt ready, but still had some nerves about coming back, she assured me that those were normal feelings. I felt like I let the guys down in my last game. I wasn’t honest with them about what I was going through and ultimately it ended up catching up with me.
“A lot of athletes, especially at your level, experience this type of pressure and anxiety, Nate. You aren’t in the minority, even if you may feel that way. Unfortunately, most never talk about it. Men suffer in silence a lot more often than we all think because their fear of being viewed as weak is stronger than their desire to heal. You being here is a great step into overcoming what you’re dealing with. You should be proud of yourself.”
Dana’s words during our first meeting were spot on. For the longest time, the thought of telling anyone I was struggling wasn’t even an option. When I told Mia, it was merely by mistake, I had no intention, it just trickled out of me one night and from then on, it snowballed.
A three-week hiatus and one therapy session aren’t the answer to my problems, but it’s a damn good start. I haven’t felt this good in a while. While the nerves are still coursing through me, I’ve developed ways to help level them out.
“You enjoy competition, a challenge. So instead of looking at what you’re dealing with as a threat, flip the narrative. Work through this as something to manage and overcome, not something that’s bound to destroy you.”
I replay her words as I’m suiting up in the locker room. While I look around, everything is the same. Not that I anticipated for the guys to change, but for a while, I just stopped paying attention to things around me. I was so in my head that Liam’s pregame speech would go in one ear and out the other, Chase’s prayer would fall on deaf ears and Graham’s country music serenade would be completely overshadowed by the screaming voices in my head.
Not today though.
I hear it all. I soak it all in.
Because for the first time in a long time, I realize exactly what I have.
“Heading out for warm-ups?” Chase comes up next to me as he’s taping his hands. I nod my head in his direction and stuff a sharpie into my chest as I turn and walk out behind him.
Liam is already out here, slinging passes to Ford and the other receivers on our team. Chase starts stretching next to the other defensive players and I walk over the sidelines.
“Nate! Nate! Over here!” At least a dozen kids stand against the railings as I jog over to them, grabbing the sharpie out of my chest protector.
