“Your empanadas sound so good right now.” I groan, missing my mom’s cooking. My abuela too. Between the two of them, I hit the jackpot in the food department.
She lightly chuckles into the phone.
“The offer to come back here for a while still stands, although I know you did just sign a lease.”
My lease is for six months. I wanted to give myself the freedom to choose after this football season. Do I want to stay in the city? Buy a house somewhere else? Plus, if I get this promotion I’ve been eyeing, that means I can stay here if I want to or move. The choice is mine.
Mine. And that’s what I focus on.
“Yeah, I did,” I say.
“Well, honey, I’ll let you go, I just wanted to check in. I know you’re very busy keeping those athletes in check.” She sighs, and I laugh.
“I love you,” I say, smiling.
My mom is my best friend—she has been for years. I didn’t have a ton of girlfriends growing up. MJ was it for a lot of my childhood, then came high school where I met Brianna.
Bri and I clicked immediately our freshman year in English Honors. One of the guys tried to pull a “name five players” on her when she mentioned being a hockey fan and she rattled off over two dozen with a few years of Stanley Cup winners included.
It was at that moment I knew I found my person. For four years we were inseparable. I know people talk about soulmates as a romantic partner usually, but I’m pretty convinced my best friend was mine.
The sound of Walt breaks up the silence after I end the call. I still find it hilarious Liam named the random bird that bangs onthe building. I peek my head toward the window, trying to see if I can get a glimpse of him, but I’m distracted when I notice a hand on the railing of the balcony beside me.
The curve of my balcony doesn’t allow viewers—I asked Marcus before I signed—but I didn’t think to ask if I could see anyone else’s balcony from my window.
I recognize the hand right away from the gold ring on his pinky finger. It’s Liam. He moves closer to the railing, his abdomen right up against it, and I avert my eyes away. It feels invasive looking at him shirtless standing on his own balcony. I’d hate it if someone were staring at me like that. I have to give him the same courtesy I’d want, right?
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t met Liam the way we did when I first started here. I enjoy working with him, but my first impression of him was as a kind, stupidly handsome stranger at the charity dinner who made me laugh. I often wish I would’ve met him the same way I met the rest of the offense. In a conference room as they were scarfing down food. I really think that would’ve helped.
Because Liam’s a playboy. He’s the league’s hotshot who gets pretty much whatever he asks for in terms of perks and royalty. But knowing he’s also kind and caring is really a pain in my ass.
My eyes betray me as they lift back to the window, and I watch him stand oddly still. Like statue-type still, actually, and it’s freaking me out a little. I almost want to tap the window to see if he moves like he’s in some kind of zoo enclosure and I’m the child on the other side of the glass.
But I notice his breathing. And then he digs his fingers into his eyes before shaking his head. I wish I could see his face clearer. He runs a hand through his hair roughly, it makes me concerned he actually yanked some out. His body language doesn’t say mad, though. I feel my body relax as I stare at him.He inhales before his head dips and his elbows hit the rail, holding him up.
Pain stings at my chest—is hecrying? The shake of his shoulders seems to answer my internal question, and right then and there my heart breaks for the hotshot quarterback, who appears to have it all, but it’s so clear he’s struggling too. And it makes me feel like absolute fucking garbage thinking of our coffee outing, where I was less than compassionate in assuming he lived a perfect life.
But it’s inappropriate to be staring at him, especially in this private moment, so I pull myself away from the window and drag myself to the kitchen. On the counter is a basket of muffins from Marcus—a welcome home gift—and I take the biggest bite from a chocolate chip one.
Seeing Liam in that moment, however brief it may have been, made him seem a little more human. He almost seems too good to be true usually, but emotions like that looked real and raw. While I don’t know exactly what he was upset about, maybe I needed to see it. Maybe just to remind me that we’re all going through something.
The sidelines are filled with rookies this evening, second and third string players all trying to secure their spot on the roster. Liam isn’t in uniform, he’s wearing a pair of athletic shorts, a hat, and a long sleeve dry fit shirt with the Knights logo. Similar to the other starters who are also sitting back tonight.
Fans pile into the stadium, although it’s less than a regular season game—much less. But the smaller crowd still brings as much energy as possible to preseason. It’s a good chance to seewhat the new rookies have to offer, and it’s definitely a time that helps the coaches see what everyone brings to the table.
I watch as Liam lingers on the bench with the other quarterbacks, he’s got his hand on one of their shoulders, and I assume that’s the guy who is going to start the game in seven minutes. It looks like he’s giving him a pep talk of sorts, and I stare harder than I should at his body language. He’s encouraging, even without hearing a word he’s saying I can tell in his mannerisms. He taps the rookie’s shoulder, smiles at him, and claps the moment he begins to back away. It’s so clear he wants everyone to do well, he’s not at all threatened by someone else coming in and competing for his job and it’s—against the part of my brain that knows better—hot.
This first half is flying by when I somehow hear my name through the crowd.
“Demi!” I’m standing close to the tunnel watching the game when I look in the direction it came from, I see Abby, Ford’s wife, waving to me from the stands.
Her field access badge swings from her neck under her long brown hair, and I wave back.
“Hi, why aren’t you down here?” I shout, and she leans closer to me as the sounds of the game nearly muffle her voice.
“I was down there earlier. I almost didn’t come at all since Ford isn’t playing, but I didn’t want to sit at home alone.”
“No Summer or Mia tonight?”
