“For what it’s worth, I think you’re the best dancer on the team,” she said, low enough to where only I could hear. “And whatever you decide to do after, I know it will be epic. Because you are.”
I squeezed her hand with a lump in my throat.
And then all our attention was on L.A.
Braden
We were on fire.
Seattle was well on its way to the playoffs if we kept winning the way we did — and it didn’t feel like anything, or any team, could stop us presently.
The Vikings had put up a hell of a fight, but we’d just played better. Our offense was working like a well-oiled machine, our defense an impenetrable wall, and our special teams delivering impeccable field position after every return.
I knew Leo had to be fuming. It was one thing to lose a game — that shit happened and we were used to taking it on the chin and moving on. But losing to a team two of your college teammates played on?
Brutal.
Kyle was so giddy he barely made it through a shower before he was running out into the hallway to meet up with Leo, itching to rub it in. I took my time running through my post-game rituals before I joined them.
A new part of that ritual, apparently, was Emily.
If it were a home game, I’d be rushing just the same as Kyle, desperate to get out of the stadium and back to my place with her. I’d be anxiously awaiting whatever freaky item on her checklist she was ready to check off. I’d be savoring every minute of her in my house, in my bed, in my arms.
Typically, during an away game, I’d be texting her, reveling in the banter she served like she was an all-star tennis player.
But tonight was a special kind of torture. It was an away game where she had traveled with the team for promotion and media — which meant she was close enough to see, to touch, to taste…
And yet I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
We flew on different planes, traveled to the stadium on different busses, and even staying at the same hotel, there’d been no way to sneak time with her without it being too risky. Now, we were about to load up on two different busses again.
I pulled out my phone once my bag was packed and ready.
Me:It’s going to fucking kill me to watch you load onto another bus again.
Trouble:Don’t worry, Boss. You can spend the flight back thinking about that touchdown you scored. I know that’s what I’ll be thinking of…
Me:Nothing could distract me from how much I want you right now.
Trouble:You can have me when we’re home.
Fuck,those words made my chest tighten.
You can have me.
Home.
Me:Not soon enough.
I waited for a text to come through, but when it didn’t after a moment and I realized the guys were all loading out, I tucked my phone away, wanting to have a little time with Leo before we had to go.
Kyle caught me just outside the visitors’ locker room, his duffle slung over one shoulder and his grin already loaded with shit I was sure would annoy me.
Fortunately, he must have already annoyed Leo, because I showed up just in time to watch our friend slug Kyle in the arm.
“You got lucky,” he said. “And don’t go thinking this means you’re heading to the big game because your offense is still too soft.”
“What was that?” Kyle put a hand up to his ear before turning to me. “Braden, did you hear something? Sounded almost like a running back who got less than sixty yards today.”
