19
Thursday, June th
Blake
My calves burn as I push to run harder and harder with every suicide. We take the field in ten-yard increments, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, until we cover the whole thing, and for as much as it hurts, I wish it would suck just a little more.
Maybe that makes me insane, but the last ten days have been more fucking pain-ridden than any football hell week training could even dream to be, and it’s all my fault.
Fucking cocky, stupid, ornery—I just had to prove a point to Lexi by standing up for myself, and look where it’s gotten me. Alone, sad, ten fucking days without her in my life at all and no choice but to hold my dick in my own hand and dream of what it was like to touch her.
Fuck.
“Boden!” Coach Gordan yells, his voice hoarse with irritation. “Take it easy, would ya? I don’t need a fucking injury before the season even starts, for shit’s sake!”
I power even harder for the last fifty-yard sprint, and Coach blows the whistle when I’m halfway there. I don’t stop, though. I pump and I pump and I pump until my heart feels like it’s going to blow a hole wide open in my chest.
“Holy shit, Blake!” Ron Zimmerman yells from somewhere behind me. “What are you on today, brother?”
I keep pushing until I cross into the end zone, collapsing immediately to the ground and rolling over onto my back to stare at the sky. Clouds drift from east to west, falling from my head to my feet and continuing downfield until they clear the bleachers on the other side. I can hear the guys yelling and celebrating and shit-talking from all around me, but by and large, all I can do is remember to breathe. In and out, I work to bring my pulse back to normal.
“I think he broke himself,” Nick Fisher, my center and one of the biggest fuckers on the team, whispers as he finally crosses the finish line himself. I hold up a single middle finger, making them all giggle to themselves like little schoolgirls.
When Coach Gordan leans over me, blocking out the sky with his face, I know I’m about to get my ass chewed for real, though.
“Hey, Sleeping fucking Beauty…what the ever-loving hell was that shit?”
“Coach,” I wheeze, closing my eyes when breathing still doesn’t come naturally, and a cramp attacks me dead in the side.
“I swear, you kids are going to be the death of me. What are you trying to do, kill yourself? Trying to be some hotshot for the new guys?”
I shake my head, but he keeps going anyway.
“I don’t give a fuck. Whatever it is you’re doing, quit it, okay? Goddammit, I hate this job sometimes. Hit the showers!”
He climbs away from my corpse, and Hank Lewis, my tight end and go-to guy, steps in to take his place, holding out a hand to help me up. “Come on, Boden. Time to rise and shine.”
I sigh as he pulls me to my feet, groaning slightly at the pain in every single part of my body. “Certainly seems like you’re being driven from a different place today. Everything okay?”
I nod, giving him a thumbs-up. “Oh yeah. I’m swell.”
Hank smirks. “Well, whatever it is, it makes you really fucking fast. None of us could even catch your ass.”
I laugh. “Oh well, glad there’s an upside.”
“For real, though, is everything okay?”
I nod, clapping Hank on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just a weird week, that’s all.”
“Okay, dude. You coming to the club with us later?”
I shrug. Honestly, I’m undecided. It’s not a bad idea per se. I mean, it might lead to some questionable choices, but it’d surely improve my mood. Instead of committing, I offer about all I’m able to right now—a chance. “I might. We’ll see. Cool if I let you know?”
“Of course, dude. The guys know you aren’t much of a partier, so either way’ll be cool.”
“Later, dude.”
Hank takes off, and I take my time walking through the end zone to my abandoned gear, gathering my pads and helmet from earlier and scooping them up to carry them to the locker room.
A wave of sadness crashes over me, and all of a sudden, I’m decided. I jog to catch up with Hank in the tunnel to the locker room. I spot him about fifty yards ahead, his helmet and pads hanging from the fingers of each of his hands. “Hank, wait up!”
He stops in his tracks and turns around, and I keep running until I meet up with him. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
“I changed my mind. I think I’m going to come out with you guys.”
“Really?” he asks, his whole face lifting with unbridled excitement.
“Really. We haven’t had a chance for a ton of bonding this summer, and hell, I don’t have anything else going on. So, what the fuck, you know?”
“Shit yeah, my dude. Fuck, this is gonna be good.” He pounds knuckles with me as we start walking toward the locker room again, explaining the plan. “We’re going to hit a restaurant first, check out that new club Tau, and then just go where the night takes us. We can meet up beforehand and go together if you want. Like seven or so?” He pushes through the door to the locker room, and I follow him, looking up at the clock on the back wall as I do.
It’s only a little after four, so that gives me plenty of time to head back to my apartment, shower, change, chill for a bit, and mentally talk myself into believing this shit is a good idea. “Yeah. That works.”
“Cool. It’s downtown near the Financial District, so we can just meet here and then catch the subway together?”
I nod. “Cool, man.”
Hank heads for his side of the locker room while I head for mine, tossing my pads and helmet into my locker with just a little more force than I intend. I sit down in front of it and start undressing, trying my best not to think about why I’m so fucking pissed off.
I sigh.
Fuck.
Tossing my clothes and shit into my locker and grabbing a towel, I head for the showers and make quick work of rinsing off the grime and sweat. I’ll take another shower when I get home, one where I can soak and fucking mope, but this one, with fifteen other fucking dudes, is purely mechanical.
Sufficiently clean, I shut off my shower, wrap my towel around my waist, and head back to my locker in silence. I dress in a pair of loose shorts and a T-shirt and toss my duffel over my shoulder before heading for the door.
No one bothers me as I get rid of my towel in the hamper and exit, so I take the opportunity to put in an earbud and crank up some music. It’s old-school Yellowcard, and the frantic cadence of “Way Away” matches the desperation of my mood.
I let myself jam and feel the music as it blares in my ears, all the way down the hall to the player exit, and shove through the back door into the surprisingly still high sun of summertime. The door falls closed with a thud behind me, though I can barely hear it over the volume of my music, and the street in front of me is mostly quiet.
Maybe that’s why I startle so hard when I feel a tap on my shoulder from behind, and I spin around like a top.
Lexi Winslow is the very last person I expect to see.
I hurriedly take out my earbuds and tuck them into my pocket, the volume of my song still playing slightly in the background. “Lex? What are you—”
She lunges forward and slams her lips into mine, effectively cutting me off and answering me all at once. Maintaining my boundaries, it seems, has paid off in a big way.
I kiss her back, wrapping one strong arm around her back so firmly I almost lift her feet off the ground and sinking my other hand into the back of her blond hair. I get lost in the feel of her body and the smell of her hair and push her backward, all the way until her back is against the hard brick exterior of the stadium. I taste and touch and feel every bit of her mouth with my tongue, and when she finally manages to push me back, the two of us are breathless.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her eyes looking up to meet mine. “For avoiding you.”
“Shit, Lex, if it always resolves like this, you can avoid me all the time.”
She laughs through a sigh, pushing me back just enough that there’s a six-inch space between us. I frown, but she smiles. “I…I want to really try this. It’s not been fair that I’ve been fighting you every step of the way, and these ten days of no contact from you… Well, they’ve helped to make me see that. But I’m not ready for anything to be public yet, Blake.”
I look around at the space on either side of us. “We’re in public right now, Lex.”
“I know. Which was pretty stupid of me, I can see now, but at the time, I just…needed to talk to you as soon as possible and I knew you would be finishing up with practice now.”
It’s not exactly a Shakespearean love poem, but damn, coming from Lexi Winslow, everything she just said is practically a sonnet.
I can be patient on the public thing if it takes a little longer. The important thing is that she wants to give this an actual try.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Let’s try this in private first. I can do that.”
“You can?” she asks, a beautiful beacon of hope shining in her voice.
“Yeah. In fact, let’s go—”
The door bangs open beside us, and Lexi jumps as I turn, distancing myself from her warm, beautiful body just a little more. Hank and Ron are laughing and chatting on their way out, when Hank spots me standing there. “See you tonight, man.”
I nod. Fuck . “Yeah, dude. See you tonight.”
He jerks up his chin, and he and Ron move on. I blow out a breath, reality having smacked the air clean out of me. “I…well, I told the guys I would go out with them tonight. I’m supposed to meet them at seven. I didn’t know you were going to show up here, though, because I sure as fuck wouldn’t have if I had. But I’m not supposed to meet up with them until later.”
“It’s fine,” she says. “Just get in touch with me later tonight when you’re done.”
“Wait…what? But I have a few hours. I can—”
“Later, Blake.” She steps forward to press a quick but discreet kiss to my lips. “I promise.”
“Because we’re really giving this a shot?” I ask, the need for confirmation undeniable.
“Yes.”
“Well, Lex,” I say and wink at her, “I think it’s going to be a very short night.”
She laughs and waves, walking away with only one look back. My pulse pounds and my ears ring as I think about just how down the river I’ve already sold myself.
How I might already be in love.
I sure hope she gets in a boat and follows because, if not, it’s going to be a hell of a long row back to reality.