Chapter 22
Stephen
Even if we can’t be together right now, even if it’s not the right time for us, you’re fucking mine…
Almost five weeks have passed since I said that to Donovan, and the words aren’t any less true. My entire life might revolve around football, whether it’s training, team meetings, physical therapy… it’s constant. But as soon as I have a moment to myself, it’s thoughts of Donovan that consume me.
Even now, as I head into our training facility, laden with bags of snacks for the meeting rooms, I’m imagining him laughing at me; delivering scented candles for the big burly football players, as he’d call them.
I’ve started typing out a million messages to him, ranging from asking how his day is, to funny film gifs I find, to telling him that I miss him. But none of them get sent.
He doesn’t post much on social media himself, but I’ve seen him tagged in photos with Jamie and Max, either out and about on campus, or at Prism together.
He’s happy and smiling, and I love that for him, I just hate that I’m not there too.
I stop myself anytime I think of him with another guy; I’d be stupid to think he’s not, after all, he’s free and single, and doesn’t need to hide anything anymore.
He can be with who he wants; it doesn’t mean I have to like it though.
Even if I had the time, I can’t imagine looking at anyone else. I’ve been getting way more attention, purely down to the fame element of playing for one of the country’s top teams, but nobody even comes close to Donovan. I’ve never experienced a connection like that with anyone before.
“Hey, look at you, you’re a pro,” Tyler chuckles, walking into the meeting room as I display the snacks.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I say, thinking back to that day he took me shopping for everything.
It’s amazing how much players eat, but also how picky they are. Brand specific, flavor specific, and don’t even get me started on the candles, it would be a disaster if I bought them cheap ones.
“Just think, it will be you passing on the torch to next year’s rookie,” he says, dropping his bags on the floor and sitting back in one of the chairs. “You ready for the weekend?”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever feel ready to play in the NFL, but I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“True… shit, I remember my first game. I was literally throwing up in the locker room right up until the moment we ran out.”
“Ouch, thanks for that visual.”
“Sorry,” he says, “I just meant that nerves are natural, they’re good. Ignore the guys who tell you they don’t get nervous, they’re bullshitting you.”
“Honestly, I think I’m more nervous about the media stuff, I’ve never had to do that before.”
“You’ve had the rundown from Mindy though?” he asks.
“Oh yeah, I’ve read through all the documents a million times. I know exactly what I’m supposed to do and say, it’s just whether I can or not.”
“Yeah, I get it,” he says, “I struggle with the interviews after a loss. I never know what they want me to say, I mean, we lost, it’s shit, please can I just go home already?”
“Well fingers crossed that doesn’t happen this game.”
“Go in confident, we’ve got this, our team is strong this year. And with the media stuff, if in doubt, just copy Marcus, he’s a pro.”
“Yeah,” I say, “it’s like the cameras don’t even faze him.”
“I remember when I first joined, he told me that his secret weapon is a tailored suit.”
“I’m not sure I’m cool enough to pull off the kind of suits he wears though,” I laugh.
“True, but then I’m not sure anyone is. Did you see that purple suit he wore last season? I’d look like I was in a costume if I wore that! No, stick with me, get yourself a well-tailored black suit and some different color shirts and ties, you’re golden.”
“Thanks,” I say, “that’s a good shout. Alright, I’ll see you later at the team briefing, better get the rest of the boys their snacks.”
“Later!” he calls, turning his attention to some game footage on his tablet.
I pull out my phone and fire off a message.
Hey dad, do you think you can make it to Tynerston this week to help me buy a new suit?
It only takes him minutes to respond.
Sure, if you’ve still got a rest day on Thursday I’ll come up. I know just the place.
Thanks, see you then.
I didn’t even think about getting a new suit, but Tyler’s right, I need to look the part.
Not to mention the fact that my old suit might not even fit me anymore, I’ve been putting so much effort into training and the weight room that I’m sure I’ve gotten bigger.
I guess that’s the one silver lining from having a sex life and losing it, all this excess energy has to go somewhere.
I shake myself off, this is not the place to be thinking about my sex life, or more specifically, the sex I’m not having with Donovan…
As the doors to Bellegarde open, my steps falter.
“Um… Dad… I’m not sure we belong here.”
Chandeliers hang overhead, and we’re surrounded by glass display cases with single pieces of jewelry. A few mannequins are strategically placed, each showcasing an evening gown or tuxedo.
He chuckles and nudges me. “You’re a Warrior now, with a Warrior’s salary, when it comes to a game day suit, trust me, this is where you need to be.”
“I’m scared to touch anything though,” I murmur.
A glamorous woman in a pencil skirt and killer heels greets us. “Good morning, welcome to Bellegarde. How can we assist you today?”
“I just need a suit,” I say.
“A game day suit,” my dad interrupts. “My son here is playing his first game with the Warriors this weekend, and he needs to look his best.”
Her eyes light up for a moment before a calm expression returns. “You’ve come to the right place. My name is Olivia; can I offer you both some champagne?”
“Yes, please,” my dad says.
“Not for me thanks,” I say, “um, training, you know.”
“Of course,” Olivia nods. “Some freshly squeezed fruit juice perhaps?”
“Sure, that would be great, thanks.”
“Please follow me.”
Dad nudges me again as we walk behind her. “You’re in the big leagues now, this is one of the perks, enjoy it!”
“Clothes shopping is a perk?”
“When it’s tailor-made suits accompanied with champagne it is.”
“Tailor-made? Dad, I just need a suit that fits me.”
“We have a range of options here at Bellegarde,” Olivia says, turning to flash me a smile.
“We have a team of in-house tailors to ensure any suit will fit you perfectly, but we also design custom pieces for VIP clients, such as yourself. You might have seen some of our creations for your teammate, Marcus Grant.”
The way she drops his name like that gives me the ick, but I smile and nod. We enter a room with a large velvet sofa and mirrors in a U-shape, a low podium in the middle.
“I thought this was a clothing store,” I whisper to my dad. “Where are all the clothes?”
He chuckles but stops when Olivia speaks to us again. “Please have a seat, I’ll bring your refreshments, and one of our consultants will be in to see you shortly.”
Not long after she leaves us, a man arrives through a different door.
“You must be Stephen Choi,” he says, “I’m Paul, I’ll be your consultant today.”
“Uh, yeah…” I say, deciding to ignore the fact that he obviously looked me up to know my name. “This is my dad, Nathan.”
They shake hands and Paul takes a seat next to us.
“I understand you’re looking for a suit for your big game this weekend?”
“Yeah, I need an upgrade, I’m not sure my current suit fits me anymore.”
“Not a problem at all. I’ll be honest, you’re cutting it a bit fine if you want something custom, we’ve only got a few days, but I’m sure we can make an exception for the newest Warrior.”
“Oh no,” I say, “I’m just looking for a black suit.”
“But there’s still a lot to decide,” Paul says, “the style, the fabric, the shade. We’re going to have so much fun, not to mention accessories. You both relax, I’m going to go and select some pieces for you.”
“Thank you,” my dad says, sensing my overwhelm.
As soon as we’re alone I glance over at him, noting his sly grin.
“You knew it was gonna be like this, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he chuckles, “your grandfather brought me here to get a suit for my first game, think of this as a rite of passage.”
“A rite of passage? That’s what you said the first time we went camping, and the first time we went fishing, and the first time you let me drive your truck. How many more rites of passage do I have to go through?”
His expression turns somber, and he sighs. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think you might be going through another one… but doing it alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t been yourself recently, and… well I’m sorry to put it so bluntly, but your mom and I were wondering if perhaps you’re going through your first heartbreak.”
My chest restricts and I struggle to take my next breath. I thought I’d done a good job of hiding it, I still haven’t told them about Donovan, it’s too painful. But maybe I’ve been more obvious than I thought.
“I don’t think anyone else will have noticed,” he reassures me, “but we know you, and something isn’t right.”
Fuck.
“You remember Donovan?” I ask.
“Of course, your roommate.”
“He was more than my roommate.” The words come out as a whisper, no one is listening, but the fear of being overheard is still there.
“And I’m guessing it was more than casual if you’re this upset about it.”
“Yeah, it was more,” I say. “I told him about the situation with football, and we agreed to keep it a secret. But we both got so emotionally invested, and I was feeling things I’d never felt before.
I knew it was selfish, asking him to keep us quiet, but when we were together I forgot all of that, it just felt so right with him. ”
“So what happened? Did things change when you moved here?”