Chapter 15
Landon
RORI: Can I see you?
Excitement spikes in my chest. After a couple more months of texting, one thing is clear—I’m starting to feel things about Rori. While I keep my messages friend-appropriate, it’s a struggle. I feel like I’m hiding a piece of myself from her.
I never imagined that something like this could happen over text. But our lifestyles are not the norm, which is definitely playing a role. It’s hard to meet women, period, and to trust someone new—next to impossible. But with her, that’s a non-issue. She doesn’t want or need anything from me.
And we just click. It’s easy. I don’t even think before texting her, no filter. It’s not needed.
Not to mention that every time my hand grabs my dick to give myself relief lately, it’s our nights together that I think about.
Maybe texts are our version of the letters people used to send in the olden days? Like in our great grandparent’s days, when they had whole relationships evolve over snail mail. Our conversations have definitely advanced things for me.
And now, she’s initiating us spending time together again.
Hopefully, alone this time, unlike her Miami tournament.
LANDON: Definitely. Tomorrow evening? I can drive down after my afternoon workout.
Maybe this is the time to be transparent with her about where I’m at. It’s terrifying to consider. Really terrifying. But I’m not sure how I can hide the truth from her. Especially not in person.
I don’t have a playbook for this. Never needed one.
RORI: Perfect. Come to my house.
As she sends me her address, a different text comes through.
JOHNSON: Hey, we still on for dinner tonight? Can we eat and watch the basketball playoffs at my place? I’m too tired to deal with any public outing.
When Johnson and I go out together, it always creates a frenzy at the local restaurants and bars. We have to be in the right frame of mind to choose that option.
LANDON: No problem. And I need to talk something out with you.
I hear the sound of the back door opening and in walks Grace with Grover. She must have taken him on a walk.
“Hi, you’ve had your head in your phone for a bit. I was waving at you through the window while Grover did his business. You okay?” Grace asks curiously.
“Yes, sorry. More than okay,” I say. The energy behind my statement has Grace’s attention in a different way.
“What’s going on?”
I put my hands on the counter before I answer. “Don’t freak out, Grace.”
She doesn’t miss a beat, like any little sister. “You have me freaking out by telling me not to freak out. But it sounds like it’s something good?”
I look down at where my hands touch the counter to avoid eye contact. “Yes. I think…I think I might be interested in someone. A woman.”
“WHAT? Like for more than just hanging out for a night, you mean?” Grace drops Grover’s leash and comes closer to me, causing me to glance up and catch her surprised eyes.
“Yes.” The word comes out slowly, like I’m trying it on for size.
“Who is she?”
I pause a beat. “This really is the ‘don’t freak out’ portion of this conversation. It’s Rori Reilly, the tennis player.”
Grace takes a step closer, her hand resting on the opposite end of the counter, her eyes now the size of saucers.
“Landon Thomas Battle, tell me everything.” She softly hits her hand on the counter to emphasize the last three words.
So I explain to Grace the history of what happened, starting with the New Year’s party and ending with my exchange with Rori only a few moments ago.
“Huh,” she says as I finish, lightly cuffing her hand on my arm. “Landon, this is incredible.”
“Incredible?” I ask, wondering what she meant.
“I know that everything with Mom and Dad messed you up and you’ve been allergic to commitment or something. It’s driven me nuts to watch you jump from one random girl to the next. Letting yourself be pulled down by our family history.”
Damn, okay, Grace is holding nothing back.
“You have the biggest heart for all of us, your team, Grover. Yet you shut down this other side of yourself. I’ve been hoping you’d snap out of it.”
“Okay, okay, I hear you,” I say, nodding. “It’s just been so much easier that way. Don’t have to worry about trusting someone if they’re out of the picture the next day.”
“Easier maybe, not better. You deserve more. I still think therapy would be a helpful for you, and I say that with love. But I’m excited that you’re starting to open up and be vulnerable with someone.
Sometimes finding the right person is enough to make it worth it.
” Being a bit of know-it-all, she says this with a mixed tone of genuine love and smug little sister energy.
“Well, it’s far from a sure thing,” I say. “She doesn’t want anything serious and I don’t even know how she feels about me.”
“It’s progress though, for you,” Grace says. “And that’s huge.”
She gives me a hug, and something about our conversation calms my mind. I’m going to need to take some risks and expose myself to figure out if this situation is meant to be something more.
That may sound less dangerous than taking risks on a football field but, with my parent’s BS hanging in the background, it isn’t to me.
Speaking of which, there’s another part of this conversation that I need to have. This time with Johnson. Questions that only he’ll really understand.
“I’m going to go to Johnson’s house for dinner. You can hang here as long as you want, though. Would you mind watching Grover tomorrow night? When I go to Tampa? I don’t know when I’ll be home.”
Waving her hand at me, Grace says, “Consider it done.”
I thank her again and then turn towards my bedroom. After a shower, I head over to Johnson’s house. When I get to his place, he answers the doorbell with a tired smile.
“C’mon in,” he says, holding the door while I walk in, then swinging it shut and leading us through the hallway. “Thanks for doing this here. It’s been a long few months.”
“How’re you doing, J? How’s your sister and the baby?” I ask, so he knows he has room to talk about it if needed.
“They’re doing much better,” he responds, obvious relief on his face. “Mom’s going to stay with them indefinitely. She was due for retirement from the school soon anyway, so I told her to do it now if she wanted and I would help with the finances.”
“That’s awesome, man. What a thing to do for her and your sister.”
He nods. “Yeah, my sister and I were never too close, since she was eight years older. But I wanted Mom to be able to do whatever she wanted. She earned it.”
We walk into his large TV room, filled with three huge gray couches, the ideal size for big football players to gather. His enormous TV is turned to the L.A. versus Chicago basketball playoff game about to begin.
“I’m starting to pivot to my training diet,” Johnson remarks. “We can order something else for you, but I had my chef create a large protein bowl for each of us. Grilled chicken, vegetables, rice—the usual.”
“That’s perfect,” I say as I sit down.
“So what’s the latest with you?” Johnson asks. “You sticking around Orlando before mini-camp?”
“For the most part. Taking Rawley and Chad out fishing this weekend on my boat if you want to join,” I say.
Chad Grandman is another linebacker on the team that’s mentored me along my first couple of years.
He’s been in the league seven seasons, so he’s been a great resource, and has become a good friend.
“Sure. Sounds great.”
I reach for one of the beers that Johnson has left on the living room table for us. “I’m also thinking of going to Wimbledon, actually. Take a few days to check out London overall too.”
“That would be fun. You’re catching lots of tennis this break, huh?” Johnson says, looking at me quizzically.
I start fidgeting with the cover of the magazine on the table in front of me. “Well, yeah. Yeah, so, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about…”
Johnson’s attention is locked in on me, despite his exhaustion. This is why he’s a great leader in the locker room. “So you said in your text.”
I decide I better rip off the band-aid. “I’m not sure where to begin, so I’ll just say it. I…I slept with Rori Reilly.”
“Slept with” didn’t sound right to my ears, but I didn’t know how else to describe it to Johnson.
“Wait. Wait. Like during the Triumph thing?” Johnson is sitting up straighter and looking confused. Or surprised. Or both.
I explain. “First time was that New Year’s party, and then also after the Miami photo shoot.”
“So you weren’t too unhappy to take my place for the ad campaign, were you,” Johnson teases with a huff.
“Not really.” I smile at that.
“Okay, so what’s the problem?” Johnson asks, his brain catching up.
This is the question I’m waiting to discuss.
He looks at me expectantly and I go all in.
“You know the shit my parents put us through, and how I’ve avoided locking down anything serious for years. But with her, I don’t want to stop, J. I want more from her, with her.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“I know, not what you were expecting.”
“Not really, but things change,” he says. “Eventually just fucking around gets old. I’m kind of there myself. So what’s the problem?”
“Well, we’re supposed to meet up tomorrow night. I’m thinking I might talk to her about it, about how I’m feeling. I know we’re not my parents, so I’ve kind of pushed past that baggage in my head. I just want to make sure what I’m doing isn’t stupid.”
“Stupid, how?” Johnson responds.
“Having any kind of relationship, casual or not—is it going to be possible with football? You know how we live, the road trips, the parties, the women trying to get our attention, the demands for night appearances, on top of everything else needed to play the game. Is it too much to add maintaining a relationship to it? I’ve never even tried to juggle that. ”
“Okay, slow down,” Johnson replies, waving his hands to stop my brain from spiraling further. “How many guys have awesome careers while married with kids? They have no issues. I’m sure they’re on the same page with their wives. Good communication is everything.”
I nod, absorbing his words.
He continues, looking me in the eye, blessedly taking this call for help seriously and not just making fun of me. “You’re just looking to date her right? Get to know her?”
“Yeah, we still haven’t spent that much time together,” I answer. “We talked daily the last few weeks when she was in Europe, but that was just texts. I don’t even know whether it’s something she wants. But she’s the one who reached out to meet tomorrow.”
“Yeah, so think about how many guys have started dating someone while on the team,” he says. “Like Carter—his new girlfriend seems nice. Although I don’t know that as many women are chasing his 350-pound ass like they do yours.”
I laugh. “Hey, that 350-pound ass protects your skinny one, so be grateful.”
“Truth. But think about it, there’s countless guys with girlfriends, and the situations work. You can choose the same if it’s what you really want as you get to know each other more.”
Johnson stops for a moment, then keeps going with his questions. “When we’re out the next time, how would it feel to hook up with someone else?”
I grimace. “Ehhh, that would feel wrong. Not because Rori and I have any kind of commitment. But it would feel wrong. The best way to describe it,” I think for a second, “is that I don’t want anyone else.”
Johnson raises his hand in an “a-ha” gesture. “Bro. There’s your answer. Give it a chance. Fuck sleeping around. That isn’t a way to live your life long term anyway.”
“Sheesh, J. Bringing the wisdom tonight.” I laugh, taking a sip of my drink.
“Being with my family has me in a no-bullshit kind of mood,” Johnson says. “Sorry for being blunt about it all.”
“No, it’s welcome,” I reassure him. “I needed to talk it through before I go there tomorrow.”
“I get it. Okay, so this game is ramping up, should we dial down the intense life lessons and watch some hoops?”
I chuckle, and we pivot our attention to the game.