He holds the door open as some people wave at us from their stations or machines. I smile back and try to keep my chin up, but I’d be lying if I felt like the same athlete in the parking lot.
Right now, I feel a tad smaller—like the walls stretched up and the floor tilted just enough to remind me I’m standing on someone else’s turf.
Thirty-Two
Tyson
Thestadiumenergyisstill buzzing under my skin when the clock hits zero. A three-point loss and our first of the season. It shouldn’t feel like a victory, but hell—if there’s a way to lose, this was it. Two heavyweight teams trading touchdowns, and according to the coaching staff, we’re the two favorites to go to the Super Bowl.
I adjust the tape around my ankle, feeling the tight burn under the wrap. It held up better than I expected–didn’t really feel it until the second half.
We jog toward midfield, helmets off, ready to shake hands. I clap a few guys on the shoulder pads—good game, respect, all the usual. But my eyes keep drifting across the line.
The opposing sideline is a slight storm of bodies circling one person.
Blair.
She’s got this exhausted but proud smile, like she knows how important her role was in every point we put up. The opposing team crowds her, tapping her helmet, grabbing her shoulders, yelling whatever praise she probably won’t believe later while she’s overthinking the film. She lifts her chin a bit, and the stadium glow hits her face just right. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
I’m supposed to be shaking hands, but I slow down a step just to watch. It looks good on her—being celebrated. Being wanted. Being seen. Especially after our run-in with that dick bag, Oscar. I called Benny that night,told him what happened, and he made sure to have a conversation with Blair about it.
I know he’s on her side. Just like most of the players. This moment is one of my favorites from each of the games since Blair has joined the roster—when they all get to meet her.
Blair catches me watching her and it’s like time stops. Everything slows, the guys introducing themselves, people being in awe of what she’s accomplished. It’s just her.
Here, from the sidelines, I know I’m looking at my future.
There’sasoftshuffleoutside the door and then the faint scrape of paper against carpet. My heart leaps straight into my throat. Grabbing it, I see a room key with a note:
Shower in 5
-Blair
My stomach flips, like I’m at the top of the rollercoaster, looking over the drop. I look at the time and nervously wait for the five minutes to be up. I keep running my tongue over my bottom lip before pushing it through my teeth.
When it’s been five minutes, I crack the door open an inch, peering down both sides of the hall and checking to make sure none of my teammates or coaches are around. The coast is clear, and I can feel the relief wash over me, like when you get to sit after your first long practice of the season.
I close the door fast, leaning my back against it, pulse drumming through my ribs. The hotel logo glares at me from the keycard inside as I walk towards her room. We’re on the same floor but she’s quite a few away.
I round the corner of the hallway and then I’m in front of her room. Quickly, I use the key to get in her room, hoping no one sees me. Swinging the door open, the adrenaline of sneaking around and being in Blair’s room has me smirking. The sound of the shower running, steam creeping from the cracked door leading to the bathroom, has me ripping off my clothes.
When I step in the bathroom, lavender and peppermint kisses me with the steam.
“Hey you. Right on time.” Blair’s voice is velvet on my skin.
It’s not long before I’m in the shower with her—the woman of my dreams. Fuck, I know I’m a complete goner and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Blair wraps her arms around me, her body pink from the hot water. We stand there for a few seconds and it’s hard to believe this is actually my life.
“Sorry about the game,” she almost whispers as her head rests on my chest.
“Not even on my radar,” I reassure her.
It’s true. A close loss like this would’ve been hard to swallow previous seasons, but honestly, seeing her on the field after? Being with her now? Sucks to lose but it’s not the end of the world.
“You don’t need a distraction?” she questions while pulling away, her lashes fluttering around her honey colored eyes. Blair leans in, her lips finding my neck, and I lean away to give her more room.
“If you’re the distraction, I always need one.” If I sound needy, it’s because I am. There’s no limit on how much of her I can take. How much I need. My time with Blair is never enough.
