18 #2
The chainlink fence is tall with a locked gate. I don’t think security has any plans of opening the gate for fear of a mob rushing them to get in. I assume he’ll take a few pictures with the kids and say goodbye.
Imagine my surprise when he takes a Sharpie from his back pocket and motions the boys to press against the fence. Nic manages to sign his name and talks with the boys for a few minutes. Their presence at the fence draws attention, and more people begin to line up.
He takes the time to sign as many jerseys, hats, and pieces of paper that are handed to him as he can.
Phones snap pictures and take video of the young superstar.
I’m impressed by his friendly demeanor and while he spends lots of time talking to kids, he gives a curt smile to the women that flirt with him and move on.
At one point, he reaches behind, wiggling his fingers at me until I take his hand. He tugs me to him and kisses my cheek when I’m close.
“This is my girlfriend,” he explains when a few of the younger boys make a gagging sound. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
Nic turns to look at me with one hundred percent honesty in his eyes and winks. Something I can’t define circles in my belly and I give him a wobbly smile. The few women that remain standing at the gate glare as they eye me like they can’t figure out what I have that makes me so “special”.
Another five minutes pass before Nic says goodbye to the last fan and leads us away. Our steps fall in sync and I listen to my heels click against the pavement. I feel like I need to say something, I just don’t know what that something is.
“Sorry that took me so long.” Nic breaks the silence as he looks for my car.
“It’s over there,” I tell him and point to the far corner of the lot. “And it’s okay. I think that it was really great of you to talk with all of those people and sign autographs.”
He shrugs, almost looking embarrassed. “I may have the talent that it takes to play professional football, but it’s the fans who make us who we really are. They idolize us when, in reality, we’re just guys who can run a little faster and jump a little higher.”
I stop in my tracks and this time, Nic does too. I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. This guy, the arrogant playboy who plays football like a God and looks like one too, is writing himself off as just another guy and not like the spectacular specimen that he truly is.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Nic begins examining me, trying to find something that may be causing my frozen state.
“I’m fine. It’s just…” I shake my head and take two steps closer to him.
“You don’t even realize the power you hold.
You think you’re just some guy who runs a little faster, but you are a role model for young boys.
And girls. They see you on the field and think ‘one day, I want to be like him’.
It’s the exact reason why I’m here, doing what I am to make sure that the real you shines.
Because the man I just witnessed talking with kids, making them feel special and sending them home with a memory that will last a lifetime, is the one that everyone should know.
Not the guy who flaunts women and despicable behavior across the internet. ”
He blinks and he scratches his head, trying to hide Nico Loving behind the Love Man persona.
“When I was a kid,” he begins and laces his fingers with mine, continuing to escort me to my car.
“I wanted to meet one of my favorite players after a game. I sat there, in the freezing cold, with my new hat and jersey, waiting for him to come out and sign them. When I saw him coming towards me, I waved my hands and begged him to sign my stuff. He completely ignored every kid there, most of us shivering from the Pennsylvania winter, and gave nothing more than a quick wave. Mind you, I know they don’t owe us anything, but I had never experienced such heartbreak as that.
That day I told my dad when I became a famous athlete, I will sign every jersey and hat and paper and trading card for any kid that asks. ”
We reach my car but I don’t unlock it because I simply can’t find the brain power to do anything more than admire him. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Sure as shit I do. I put myself in my dad’s shoes and thought about how my son or daughter would feel if that happened to them.
Not just that, but I want my kids to know that they have to do better, be better.
Not only for themselves or for fame, but because we should all strive to be better humans to one another. ”
“Kids?” My awe comes to a screeching halt when I hear those four little letters.
He scrunches up his nose with a funny look. “Of course. I want as many as my future wife will give me. Don’t you?”
The spell has been broken and I dig in my purse and grab my keys. The lights flash and I pull on the handle. The door goes nowhere because Nic holds it closed with his giant paw.
“No,” I snort. “I do not want kids. I am not the motherly type and never once have I pictured my future with kids running around my house. No thanks.”
He stares at me like I’m a plastic cup of pudding, wondering if the mold on top means I’m ruined, or if I’m salvageable with just a few scrapes.
Here’s a hint football boy; I am not .
“But…what if your husband wants them? Are you just going to deny him the joy of being a father?”
“No. Of course not. I’m going to make sure I don’t marry a man who wants kids. That’s if I marry at all.” I press my hands on his chest, urging to step back.
“Valentina. You can’t be serious? Are you telling me that you won’t marry me because I want kids? My heart…you broke my heart.” He places both hands on his chest over his heart like I’ve shot him.
I take the opportunity to open my door but don’t make it inside as he steps so that he blocks me from getting in the driver’s seat. This man is doing everything possible to tap dance on my last fucking nerve.
“No, the reason I won’t marry you is because I don’t love you–”
“Yet,” he interrupts.
With an eye roll I continue. “And because you’re not my type. Move your body, please.”
He smirks and steps just far enough for me to squeeze past him. “So charming, talented, devilishly handsome men aren’t your type?”
“Immature, arrogant, egotistical men aren’t my type. And in case you haven’t figured it out, that’s you homie.” I buckle my seatbelt and press the ignition button, giving him a not so subtle hint it’s time to go.
He kneels down, obviously not understanding I'm done with him, and takes my hand in his. “Mi Reina. I can promise that you’ll never find a man who will treat you better, worship you like a queen, or make you touch the sky more than I can. Give me a chance and I’ll show you just that.”
This boy can sure lay it on thick, but the biggest problem is that I don’t doubt one word that he said. Most of the time when someone is cocky, it’s because they have every right to be. And Nico Loving has earned every ounce of his cockiness.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that.” I work to keep my smile hidden, but I don’t think I do a very good job of it.
I bite the inside of my lip to tame the stupid thing and clear my head of the nonsense that seems to be occupying my good senses. His face, his charm, his way with words is clouding my ability to think clearly and remind myself that he is a job and not the kind of man I need in my life.
“Babe, I think we should go home and talk about this over dinner. This is not the place to discuss the ways I’m going to make your eyes roll back. That’s a private conversation.” And then he opens his mouth with something like that and I’m brought back into the present.
“ We won’t be having any discussion. And we won’t be having dinner. At least, not together. Good night Nico. Thank you for walking me to my car.” I attempt to pull my hand away, but he holds onto it tighter, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it.
My chest grows tight at the feel of his soft lips on the back of my hand. Little tingles shoot down my spine and I know, if it weren’t for this jersey perfectly camouflaging me, my nipples would be poking from beneath it, feeding right into his ego.
“I could really use a chill night with some good food and better company,” he tells me. “Can you please be that person for me? I don’t want to go home to an empty house.”
His big puppy dog eyes combined with his words get me. It’s like walking through the animal shelter, and that one dog watches you, hoping you’ll be the one to take them home. And dammit if I don’t have a soft spot for animals. Especially cute puppies.
His face pleads with me and despite what some people may think, I do have a heart. I sigh and decide I’ll kick myself later.
“Two hours and I’m ordering pizza with veggies.” He pops up like a Jack-in-the-box springing to life.
“Three hours and mushrooms and black olives on the pizza, please.”
I inhale and counter, “Three hours and you get the pizza plus dessert.”
“I’ll get two desserts. Now go on and get your pretty little butt home and change into something comfortable…and sexy.”
“I’ll wear a muumuu and support pantyhose.”
“Ooo baby. I love it when you talk sexy to me.” I shake my head and chuckle, despite my brain telling me don’t do it .
He shuts the door and watches me drive off. I know he watches me because I watch him in my rearview.
When I get home, I quickly wash my face, change into shorts and an oversized crew neck and pull my hair back into my short ponytail that basically looks like a stiff broom.
Nothing revealing nor sexy. But when Nic showed up –two pizzas, a giant cookie pizza and sodas in hand– he looked at me like I was standing in a skimpy bra and lace thong.
He didn’t throw out any cheesy pick up line, or make a lewd gesture or comment.
Something I expected from him. No, he simply smiled, roamed his eyes up my bare legs to my bare face, and exhaled a deep breath.
Not only did he make me feel desired –something that I haven’t felt in a very long time– but we actually had a good night.
We ate too much pizza and dessert, and we laughed as we watched a movie that we both discovered was a favorite of ours.
I was kind of disappointed when the night came to an end with him leaving at the three hour mark like he agreed to. It’s weird, but I wished he would’ve overstayed his visit. I wasn’t about to tell him that, but it didn’t stop me from wishing for it.
Before I shut the door on our evening, I bit my lip watching him walk away.
When he turned around with his winning smile and a wink, I quickly steeled my face and gave him a short wave.
When I closed myself in, safe from his charm, I banged my head against the door, scolding myself for wanting something I shouldn’t.
And I definitely shouldn’t have dreamt about him when I closed my eyes.