Chapter 1
Theo
I breathe in the early September air, but my lungs tighten at the thought of playing another season of football.
My dad would have a coronary if he ever found out how much I hate playing the sport he raised me on. From the moment I could walk, he made sure I had a football in my hand. An ex-NFL player himself, he knew exactly how to create a prodigal son.
I’m amazing at what I do. Not to sound too full of myself, but I know with the raw talent I possess, along with how hard I work, I’m on the trajectory to become one of the greats. Just like my dad was, before his career-ending knee injury two years before I was born.
After my mom passed away from a rare form of cancer when I was four and my sister was nine, he stepped up and did everything he could to raise us. It was a rough time for our family, and I like to believe my dad tried his best.
So, being the people pleaser I am, I want to carry out his dream for me, no matter how much I dread being on the field.
Not wanting to spiral further, I plant my ass on the grass near the local sports bar on campus to catch my breath after the run mandated by my trainer for the upcoming season. I lift the hem of my shirt and wipe away the beads of sweat on my forehead while I pull out my phone with my free hand.
The screen reads 7:00 p.m.
“Shit,” I yelp, fumbling with my phone to pull up the stream to my best friend’s baseball game.
This past summer, Ryker was drafted by the Detroit Panthers as their starting third baseman, skipping a rookie’s typical years in the minor league. He’s that good.
I’m doing my best to watch every game, but with the pre-season camps and my own personal training, it’s been tough.
The livestream plays on my phone, having tuned in at the perfect time. Camille, Ryker’s wife, is the head of social media for the Panthers and is currently interviewing the team before the game begins.
Their story is one for the books.
In a matter of two days last year, I found out Camille was a runaway princess, and proceeded to marry her off to my best friend to save her from an arranged marriage.
Then there’s Jasmine, who is opening up her café this fall. I’m so damn proud of her, and I know her fiancé, Elio, the ex-NHL legend, is too.
To top it off, the first friend I made at Rock Land University, Aurora, is working her ass off playing for the USA’s national volleyball team. Her boyfriend, Cameron, is thriving as a coding wizard for Disney.
All of my friends are doing amazing things, and I couldn’t be happier for them. I only wish I was as excited about my future.
My chest pinches at the reminder that football is all I’ve ever had.
I pull out the fidget cube I always keep in my pocket for moments like this. It distracts me from my anxious thoughts, allowing me to center my breathing and calm down.
I look around campus, seeing freshmen walk around with excitement in their steps as they head toward Beers ‘n’ Cheers. Instantly, my mind goes to freckles, honey-brown eyes, and curves that have plagued my dreams since I laid eyes on her three years ago.
Marcela.
As if I conjured her, she exits the bar, slinging her tote bag on her shoulder as she crosses the parking lot.
Before I know it, I’m on my feet and jogging toward her.
“Marcela,” I huff, coming to a halt at her side.
Those honey eyes I can’t stop thinking about widen for a moment, her freckles more prominent with the sun-kissed tan of summer on her skin.
“Hi.” She brushes a dark-brown strand behind her ear.
“Hey.” I wave.
Did I just fucking wave?
I shake it off and try to act like I’m not talking to the girl who’s been on my mind forever.
“How was work?”
“It was busy, which made it go by quickly, thank goodness,” she half-yawns, her exhaustion clear.
I’ll be honest, I can’t figure out why she works there since her social energy tends to run out quickly.
“How tired are you?” I ask.
Marcela shrugs. “A decent amount, why?”
“Walk with me? If you’re up for it, of course,” I add, always giving her the choice, because I know she likes her quiet time.
“Just for a few minutes,” she answers, pulling at the hem of her cardigan.
“Oh, what a lovely few minutes this will be then.” I smile, my heart fluttering like it does every time she talks to me.
Fuck, I need to get a grip.
“Should I be concerned?” she asks with a raised brow and a smile.
“Not at all, you’re always safe with me,” I assure her, watching as the sun begins to dip behind the pine trees on the path.
Marcela doesn’t respond, which I’ve gotten used to. I usually fill in a good portion of our conversations, but it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I’m a man who loves to talk.
“How do you feel about it being our final year of school?” I question, guiding us up the grassy hill toward a quieter path.
“I’m excited for it to be done. I can’t wait to get away from this place,” she admits, shocking the hell out of me.
I watch as she fumbles to change the subject. “But, uh, how about you?”
I shrug, not wanting to lie to her. “I’m dreading it.”
Marcela’s head whips my way, confusion written all over her face. “How come?”
“I hate playing football,” I mutter under my breath, just as we reach the top of the hill. I run a hand through my hair, messing up the strands.
Silence falls between us as the weight of my confession settles. I just admitted to her something I’ve never spoken out loud to anyone.
Marcela remains quiet, heading to the wooden bench that overlooks campus. It’s my favorite place to go when I need to quiet my mind as I look at the stars, distancing myself from who I need to be on campus, versus who I’d like to be.
She sits on the bench and her gaze meets mine. “What part do you hate? If you want to talk about it, that is, sorry if I’m overstepp—”
“You’re not.” I move forward, planting myself next to her.
Marcela nods, giving me the time needed to gather my thoughts.
With a deep breath, I find myself telling her everything I’ve been holding on to. “Randy Miller was the most exciting player in the game twenty years ago. He had so much promise until he tore his ACL, unable to ever play a game again. Miller eventually had a son, and he vowed that the boy would live out his dream, doing whatever it took to make sure it happened. Even if it’s not what Theo wanted.”
I’m not sure why talking in the third person is making this easier, but it does.
“Knowing how much it meant to Miller, Theo did what was asked of him. Always. Even though no one ever asked him what he wanted from life. So, he became who his dad wanted him to be, until shit got real, and it’s now senior year. Time for Theo to be drafted, but he’s sick of it. He hates the sport that took his dad away from being a dad. He hates the beating his body takes. He hates the limelight.”
I tilt my head back, eyes closed as I inhale deeply because that familiar feeling of anxiety is creeping its way into my system, and I need to center myself.
Marcela’s soft voice seeps into the swirling thoughts in my head, “That’s really tough. I’m sorry you’re dealing with something so heavy. I know what that’s like.”
I crane my head toward her, seeing her shoulders stiffen at what she let slip again. It seems like neither of us can keep our lips sealed tonight.
She shakes her head, conveying without words that she doesn’t want to talk about it. And as someone who wants to know everything about her, I hate it, but need to respect her privacy until she’s ready.
“Thank you.” I clear my throat, wanting to escape this somber mood we’ve stumbled into. “Alright, let’s get back to fun Theo.” I clap my hands.
Marcela rolls her eyes and smiles playfully.
“What have you been reading lately?” I ask. It makes her perk up, her honey eyes lit with excitement as she twists her body to face me.
“I recently finished the first book in the First Bite series. It’s about a vampire who falls in love with a human. I know it’s a beloved trope, but it gets me every time. This series is my newest obsession,” she explains, going into detail about the characters.
Listening to her talk is easily my favorite thing, especially when I know talking isn’t always easy for her.
“Sorry, I went off on a tangent.” She tucks a loose strand behind her ear, before fiddling with the hem of her dress.
“Don’t be. I feel like I just read a book without even reading it. I loved it.”
“You know that does exist. Audiobooks?” She smirks.
“Yeah, but audiobooks don’t come with you getting all excited. That alone makes it better,” I say without thinking. And as always, as soon as something flirty comes out of my mouth, she shuts down.
“Yeah,” she replies, chuckling awkwardly. She suddenly stands. “I need to get going.”
“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” I say as I stand as well, towering over her.
She looks up to me, about to protest as she always does.
I speak first. “I need to make sure you get home safely, would that be okay?”
Marcela sighs, giving up easily for once. “Alright, let’s walk.”
And we do just that. We walk in a comfortable silence on the short path to her apartment that’s just off campus.
We stop outside the doors to her complex, and Marcela turns to me.
“Thanks for walking with me, and for taking me up there. It was a nice breather after work.” She smiles faintly.
“Not a problem, and it can be our shared quiet space.” I chuckle. “And thank you for listening. I appreciate it.”
For once, someone listened to me. She didn’t pry or try to give me solutions. She just listened to me. She knew I needed to vent and gave me the space to do so.
Marcela nods, and flashes a shy smile before turning on her heel and into her building. I watch until she rounds the corner and then head back to the football house.
I take my time, enjoying the solitude in the cool air. I’ve always loved walking at night, away from the intrusive eyes of people around campus.
Everyone knows who I am, and they’re all waiting to see what I do for the team this year.
Talk about fucking pressure.
And all I want is a life away from that demand.