Chapter 49 I Think He Knows
I Think He Knows
Dylan
She was wearing his shirt.
An old Tritons tee—navy faded soft from a hundred wash cycles, the neckline slouchy, sleeves rolled up just a little over her swimsuit. It hung loose and low on her, knotted at the waist, but he knew exactly what it was. One of the first freebies from his rookie year.
And damn if it didn’t hit him square in the chest.
He paused for a second at the gate, the smell of chlorine and sunscreen wafting on the warm breeze, the girls spread out around the pool like they were on spring break.
But it was her that had his full attention.
Legs dipped in the water, hair piled on top of her head, face tilted toward the sun. Like home. Like everything he’d missed.
She looked up, eyes squinting against the light, and smiled.
And just like that, he couldn’t feel the weight of the pizza boxes anymore.
He’d always worn his shirts and hoodies a little big.
Even back in college. Said it was for comfort, but truthfully?
It was for her. Always for her. He liked knowing she could disappear into something of his when the world got loud.
That she could wrap herself in something that smelled like him and maybe feel safe.
Safe. Loved. Wanted.
Hell, maybe even kept.
She didn’t know that, and he didn’t need her to.
But the way her fingers absently tugged the hem down when he walked in?
Yeah. She was his. Whether she said it out loud again or not.
He set the boxes on the outdoor table and raised an eyebrow. “Thin crust, extra cheese, pepperoni on half—because apparently Raleigh Ann has beef with pepperoni. Medium crust with sausage because Ali’s picky as shit about pizza.”
“I literally said it gives me heartburn,” Raleigh Ann called from a lounge chair, not even looking up from her book.
“Same thing,” Dylan muttered under his breath, smirking as he turned back to Ali.
“I am picky. But I know what I like.”
She was standing now, walking over in that slow, swaying way that always made his brain short-circuit. The tee hit mid-thigh, her swim skirt barely visible, her cheeks a little pink from the sun.
She stepped close—too close—and gave him a once-over like she was judging an outfit. “You look proud of yourself.”
He shrugged, grinning. “I bring offerings. I should be worshiped.”
Ali snorted. “Oh please. You bring carbs and suddenly you’re a god?”
“To be fair,” Abigail called from the water, “He brought multiple carbs. That counts for something.”
Ali reached for a slice and took a slow, dramatic bite—eyes locked on his like she was daring him to say something. “Well, your holiness…we thank you for your sacred delivery.”
He chuckled, low and warm, and leaned in so only she could hear. “Careful, Presley. You keep looking at me like that, and I’m gonna make you eat that pizza in my lap.”
She choked on her bite.
And it was absolutely worth it.
Dylan adjusted his laptop on his desk in his office, angling the camera so the sunlight from the back windows wasn’t blowing out the screen. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up, hair still a little damp from the pool earlier. The smell of sunscreen and pepperoni lingered faintly in the air.
Kallie’s face popped up first, her brunette curls pulled into a high knot, glasses perched low on her nose. “You look suspiciously happy. Where are you, McKenzie?”
“Home in Lake Nona,” he said, leaning back on the stool. “Girls are outside...”
“Good. We’ve got Coach Peterson joining in a sec.”
Right on cue, the coach’s square filled the screen—stern face, ball cap, and a Tritons polo.
“Mac,” Coach said with a curt nod. “Kallie said you wanted to talk schedule?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said, voice steady. “Just wanted to put it out there before things get too packed. I’m planning to split my off-days time this year. I’ll still be based in Orlando for team obligations, but when we’re not in full schedule mode, I’d like to spend part of the week in Georgia.”
Coach’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “Distractions?”
“No, sir. That’s why I’m saying it now. I’ll still be doing everything I’m supposed to—film, lifting, conditioning.
Hell, I’ve already scoped gyms near Honeyshore, can drive to MBU if needed, and I’ll be on campus here the rest of the week for practices and team events.
Nothing’s changing on my end when it comes to the Tritons. ”
Kallie raised a brow. “You’re not trying to pull a Brady and start practicing from the beach, right?”
Dylan smirked. “Nah. But if y’all see me on a paddleboard throwing spirals, don’t be surprised.”
Coach grunted, which was basically his version of a laugh.
“Just keep your priorities straight,” he said. “You’ve been focused and sharp. I don’t care where your home base is when you’re off, as long as your head stays in the game.”
“It will,” Dylan said firmly. “I just... want to be able to breathe a little, too.”
Kallie’s voice softened. “You deserve that.”
Coach nodded again. “Then we’re good. Anything else?”
“Not today,” Dylan said. “Appreciate you.”
Coach Peterson’s screen blinked out, and Dylan reached for his water bottle, twisting the cap just to do something with his hands.
Kallie didn’t log off.
She tilted her head, watching him through the screen like she could read every thought. “So…you’re really doing this, huh?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I mean…I’m not retiring. Not going anywhere. I just—” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I need the space. And I want the time.”
“To be with her?” Kallie asked softly.
“To be myself,” he said, then cracked a faint grin. “But yeah. Her, too.”
Kallie leaned back in her chair. “Walk me through the plan.”
Dylan sat forward, more focused now. “Right after the season ends, I want to spend the full off-season in Georgia. At least until camp opens back up in July. Honeyshore’s got enough space for me to train, lift, throw.
I’ve got film access. I can drive to Savannah or even Jacksonville if I need to link up with other guys. ”
“You’re thinking full-time from March to July?” she clarified.
“Yep. I’ll come back to Orlando when I need to, but otherwise, I’m posted up there.”
“And you’ll still do your workouts? Diet? Promo obligations?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “We can frontload media stuff in March and keep everything else virtual or on weekend trips.”
Kallie paused. “You do know this’ll stir up some whispers, right? Everyone’s gonna think she’s the reason.”
“She is part of the reason,” Dylan said without flinching. “But I’m not going rogue. I’m planning ahead. I’ve given this more thought than anything in years.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “You love her.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah. And I’m not hiding it anymore.”
Kallie exhaled slowly, then nodded. “Okay. We’ll build it in. I’ll send over a rough schedule and run logistics by media and ops.”
“Thanks, Kay,” he said, the weight of months—maybe years—finally starting to lift.
She pointed a finger at the camera. “But if I catch you skipping workouts to float around Tybee on a paddleboard with your girlfriend, we’re gonna fight.”
Dylan chuckled. “Fair.”
“Now go outside and kiss the girl already,” she said, closing the Zoom with a wink.
He shut the laptop, heart steady, and stood.
This wasn’t temporary anymore.
This was the beginning of something permanent.