Chapter 31 Harlan
Harlan
Time takes on a glacial quality.
Every day is an X on the calendar. Every night, I wait for the dawn to come.
I see Katie at the stadium, and it’s wickedly thrilling having our little secret, more so than it was before. I take these little hits of Katie-time to pass the days.
When yoga class wraps up one Tuesday in November, Coach Greenhaven strides in, surveys the lot of us in triangle pose. “Excellent. We’ll have to rename you the Pretzels when we host New York this weekend.”
There’s a collective groan from the Renegades.
At the end of class, I leave as Katie straightens up. The coach stops me at the door. His gray eyes laser in on me, and he clears his throat. “Harlan.”
I straighten, reflexively. The coach has that effect. “Yes, sir?” I ask, hoping he hasn’t gotten wind of my plans with Katie. But then, how could he? No one knows. We don’t go out in public. We’re cautious.
Unless those rumors about phones listening in on your conversations are true. You never know with modern technology.
He claps my shoulder. “You’re looking good this season. I keep telling that to the GM,” he says.
“Thank you, sir,” I say, grateful as always for the compliment.
“GM agrees completely,” he says, and the message is loud and clear—we want you to stay.
“Thank you,” I say, relieved that’s the focus of our talk. Even though I don’t have anything more to tell him.
“Hope you will,” he adds.
“Thank you.” It’s all I can say, my head nodding like I’m a bobblehead of myself. And I’ve seen those bobbleheads in the team store. Not my best look.
Later that afternoon, she texts me. I’m in a Lyft heading to meet my agent, so I write back right away.
Katie: Is it hard for you when the coach says stuff like that?
Harlan: How can you tell?
Katie: You never answer.
Harlan: Ha, you’re astute.
Katie: You just say thank you. Nothing more.
Harlan: I don’t know what else to say.
Katie: You’re really torn, aren’t you?
Harlan: I am. Completely.
It feels good to tell her, to unburden myself of some of these thoughts, so I keep going.
Harlan: I don’t want to give up the game, but I also don’t know what makes sense for life beyond football.
Katie: You could open a foosball and ice cream shop.
I laugh as I type.
Harlan: I’ll mention that to my agent. I’m heading to see her now. She asked if I was going to open a pie shop like my mom. What do you see me doing?
Katie: Whatever makes you happy :)
Harlan: Good answer.
When I reach my agent’s office, I don’t know that I’m any closer to deciding, but I feel better after talking to Katie.
Harlan: I’ll see you tomorrow for our session. I promise I won’t steal any more kisses.
She sends me a sad face.
***
“Beat you,” Jason calls out from one hundred feet in front of me the next morning.
“I let you beat me,” I shout as we make our way down the winding hills at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge, headed toward Crissy Field by the bay.
He slows to a walk, and I catch up with him, having finished our four-mile sunrise run.
“So, you let me beat you? That’s how you’re spinning this?” he fires back.
“Kiddo, I give it all on the field, so I don’t need to beat your young ass on a weekday jog.”
His brow knits. “Dammit. You have a good point there.”
“I usually do.”
We pass early-morning exercisers spread out on the fields—boot campers doing burpees, serene groups of older men and woman swaying through tai chi moves, and then a pack of fit twenty-somethings just…shaking their hips.
What the hell are they doing?
I peer more closely as the attendees bend and pick up hula hoops from the grass. “Ah, a hula hoop class,” I say, then tilt my head when one of the gals in the class drops a quick kiss onto her neighbor’s cheek.
“Looks like a workout date too,” Jason adds as we walk past them.
“Speaking of, how was yours from the other week? Anything come of it?”
He shrugs. “We went out a couple times, but I dunno. There wasn’t a spark. Not the kind I want. Know what I mean?”
I picture Katie and our yoga sessions. The fire that flames between us. I chuckle knowingly. “I do know what you mean. Very much so.”
Jason turns to face me. “Spoken from experience?”
I don’t need to blab. I’ve got to protect my woman.
But Jason’s a cool guy, and he doesn’t know Katie.
He plays for the other team, so he’s not her yoga student.
“Yeah, the woman I was supposed to go out with a couple weeks ago. Didn’t quite happen, but it’s still awesome.
” Even without naming her, that feels good to admit.
“Wait. You were supposed to go out with her, but it didn’t happen, so how can you say you’re sparking and it’s great? I’m a little confused.”
I’m not sure I can untangle it for him or anyone yet. “Let’s just say it’s complicated. She’s someone I, well, I work out with.”
He cracks up, grabbing his belly. When he collects himself, he says, “I told you workout dates were great.”
“I suppose you did. I suppose that’s what we’re doing,” I say, and talking to a friend about what’s happening feels fantastic.
Holy hell, I want to tell him more. I want to tell everyone about Katie.
Not yet, of course. Not today.
But soon.
I want to go out with her, to paint the town red, to take her dancing at the 80s club. I want to shop for crazy costume parties at Daisy’s Duds, and, hell, to take her to the playground with my kid.
I stop in my tracks, struck dumb by a realization.
I’m thirty-six, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never fallen this hard for a woman before.
“Wow,” I mutter, awed by the awareness of what’s happening to me.
“You okay, man?”
I shake my head like a dog shaking off water, trying to collect myself. “I’m great, actually. I just realized something kind of mind-boggling.”
A sly smile spreads across his face. “And are you going to tell her you’re falling ass over biceps, triceps, and delts for her?”
I jerk my gaze to the relationship expert by my side. “How are you so wise at twenty-five?”
“It comes with my good looks,” he says with a wink. “Also, maybe don’t wait too long.”
That’s excellent advice.
***
Later that day at her studio, as Katie and I work on variations of the warrior pose, I ask her, “How are you feeling about…?” I point from her to me.
She shoots me a sassy smile. “Am I still hot for you, do you mean?”
“No, I consider that a given.”
“So cocky.”
“And you should take it as a fact that I’m still hot for you. I meant, are you still feeling okay about our plans?”
As I stretch my arms ceilingward, she answers, “Yes. I’ve been checking out other teachers, visiting their classes, working on some suggestions for replacements.”
She tells me more about what she’s been up to as we move through other poses, then drop to the floor, stretching side by side on our backs.
I flash back to Jason’s words from this morning. Don’t wait too long.
I don’t want to wait any longer, but I don’t want to pressure her either. Hell, I feel the pressure from my team, and it’s no fun, so I don’t want to do that to Katie. But I can let her know where I’m at in other ways. “I wish time would speed up,” I say, turning my gaze to her as I stretch.
“Me too,” she whispers, sounding sexy and hopeful at the same time.
“What do you want to do first?” It’s wild, secretly planning this romance we’ll have when our careers are no longer in the way. “Every time we’ve planned a date, it’s fallen through.”
She wiggles her brow. “Then we won’t plan a typical date. No foosball and dinner. No bowling and ice cream.”
“We have no luck when we plan like that,” I agree.
She takes a beat, reaching her arms high over her head on the mat. “I think you should just come over the night you win the Super Bowl.”
I shift to my side. “I like the way you think.”
“You do?” Her eyes lock with mine.
The air between us crackles.
“When we win, I’ll fly home, and then I’ll get in a car and go straight to your house.”
She shifts to her side too, propped on her elbow. “I’ll open the door wearing a naughty grin, because I’ll be so excited to see you. You’ll probably throw me against the wall.”
I breathe out hard, my skin heating up. “I fucking will.”
She slides her hand along her side, over her hip. “You’ll tear off my yoga pants.”
My eyes drift down to her chest. “I’ll rip off all your clothes.”
She licks her lips, lets out a shuddery breath. “We can go bare, Harlan. I’m on protection, and I have a clean bill of health.”
“Me too. Clean bill of health,” I rasp, my dick rock-hard at the thought of feeling her slick heat against my cock. “I bet you’d feel incredible.”
“Bet you would too,” she murmurs.
Fuck waiting.
I reach for her, running a hand down her side, sliding closer to her sexy-as-sin body. “I need to steal a kiss now. It’ll get me through missing you this weekend.”
“Take it,” she says, then seals her lips to mine.
She crushes my mouth in a consuming kiss.
It’s the opposite of our last kiss in my kitchen.
This one is wild and desperate, tinged with jet-fueled need.
It’s rough and messy, the kind of messy that leads to hands roping in hair and teeth clicking and me yanking her against my erection.
I flop to my back, pull her on top of me, and rub against her. “Katie,” I groan.
She whispers my name with the same urgency as she rides the hard ridge of my cock. She rocks and sways, then consumes my lips again as we grab at each other.
Everything feels electric and intense. Whatever faint hold I had on control spirals away.
She swings her gaze to the door. This is the moment where we should break apart. Smooth down our clothes. Settle our jackhammering pulses.
A glance at the door is the kind of break in the action that can jolt you back to reality.
To consequences.
To promises.
Instead, Katie says, “Let me make sure it’s locked.”
In a heartbeat, she hops up from me, scurries to the door, and locks it. She’s back in seconds, straddling me again.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?”
She rocks against me, pressing her hands to either side of my face. “So sure,” she murmurs.
I grab her ass, cup those cheeks, and tug her tighter. Now is the time. “I want you so much. I’m so crazy for you. I’m falling for you so hard.”
She gasps, then smiles softly. “I’m falling for you too,” she says, sounding utterly lost in the passion.
Just like I am.