Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
DAYLEN
The past two weeks have been crazy. Vance had a family emergency and disappeared to Montana for a few days. Kennedy has been giving interview after interview. I’ve secretly hoped she’d talk about us, but she hasn’t.
Their victory parade was the other day. While the Camels all celebrated with them as a group of supportive friends, I didn’t get to celebrate with my girl the way I would have wanted.
It hurt. A lot. I’ve tried to pretend otherwise, but I’m not very good at lying. I’m sure she senses it.
We have a nationally televised home game tonight.
It’s also the big reveal for her makeup commercial that she filmed several weeks ago.
They decided to debut it during a second-half timeout of our game to try to piggyback on both the Beavers’ championship and the introduction of the new women’s football league.
They’re hoping our fans will gravitate to that league too.
I’m having a terrible game. My head isn’t in it. I don’t want to upset Kennedy, but don’t my feelings matter too? Can’t she see that the continued secrecy is hurting me? Yes, I know the decision is hers, but I’m struggling.
I spoke to my father about it earlier today. He seemed bizarrely confident that things would work out and that I should be patient a little longer.
He was so damn sure of it. He’s never let me down before, so I’m rolling with things. Just a little longer, and we can tell the world. I hope. Something tells me she’ll delay it again. I’m afraid of how I’ll react if she does.
It’s finally time for the commercial. It’s not only playing for the people at home on their televisions, but they’re showing it on the big screen here at the stadium because of Kennedy’s local stardom.
The commercial begins, and it’s hot as fuck.
Holy shit. Jordie McNamara and Kennedy are both in significantly sexier versions of their respective jerseys.
They’re both beautiful in totally different ways, and the hair and makeup people did a great job accentuating that.
While they both have makeup on their faces—it’s a cosmetics commercial—it’s not overdone or tacky.
There’s a whole theme about it being okay to look the way they do while playing as hard and tough as they do.
It’s a female empowering message, and I’m proud of my girl.
Good for Hale Cosmetics for highlighting what real beauty is.
The message is so strong and deep that it garners a standing ovation from the huge crowd when it’s over. Vance smacks my back. “She looked amazing.”
I nod. “Yes, she did.” She’s smokin’ hot.
The screen then switches to an interview with Jordie.
She talks a bit about her journey of having played with the boys in high school and having to hide her more feminine side, and how happy she is to now be able to embrace it all.
She then explains the reason behind why she named her lipstick and eyeshadow what she did.
When they move on to Kennedy’s interview, I can’t help but inhale a sharp breath as she appears on the screen.
She’s wearing my jersey. I blink a few times to make sure I’m seeing things correctly.
Yes, it’s a number eighty-eight Camels jersey.
This is her subtle way of telling the world that we’re together.
I can’t help the big smile that overtakes my face, but the joy I feel is nothing compared to what she does next.
First, she talks about how much she enjoys traditional girlie things like clothes and makeup and how it doesn’t impact who she is as a player or how she plays the game. The off-camera interviewer then asks her what she’s chosen as the name of her lipstick.
She answers, “Humble Rose.”
“Why that name?” the interviewer inquires.
“It’s named after my mother-in-law, who I unfortunately never had the chance to meet,” she states as if everyone knows she’s married.
“I told my father-in-law my plans to name it after her, and he and I came up with the name together. She was a special woman, and I’m excited to honor her memory this way. ”
Monkeys could fly across this stadium right now, and I’d be less surprised.
“You’re married?” the interviewer asks, failing to mask her clear surprise.
Kennedy grins widely as she nods. “I am. Very happily.”
“To whom?”
Kennedy tugs on her jersey. “To the greatest football player on the planet, of course. Daylen Humblecut.” She rubs her belly. “And we’re expecting a baby this spring.” She blows a kiss into the camera. “Good luck in your game tonight, baby. I love you.”
All hundred or so teammates and staff on my sideline turn and look at me. There’s no masking the shocked expressions on their faces. Hell, I think all sixty thousand fans look at me too while there’s collective gasp in the stadium.
My best friend has a huge grin on his face. He’s so happy for me.
The interviewer then asks, “What did you name your signature eyeshadow?”
Kennedy bites back her smile. “I named it Waterfalls. That song is my husband’s happy place, and he’s mine.” They play the song as the interview ends.
I look up to try to find Kennedy in the Beavers’ suite.
I see her standing front and center, wearing my jersey in public for the first time.
She holds up her left hand and wiggles her ring finger, which I see isn’t covered by a Band-Aid or makeup anymore.
She then blows me a kiss. I realize she did all this for me.
All the waiting was a ruse. She wanted to give me the huge—and I mean huge—public display of our love.
I didn’t think I could love her any more than I already did, but I was wrong.
I wish I could climb this stadium right now just to kiss her.
After I excitedly remove the Band-Aid from my ring finger, I give her the heart sign with my hands. At least people now know why I always do that after every touchdown. All for my wife.
SIX WEEKS LATER
KENNEDY
I stand in the bathroom crying, and Daylen comes flying in. “What’s wrong?” he asks with worry written all over his face.
“I can’t see my vagina anymore,” I sob in response. My stomach has grown like bamboo in the past few weeks. I went from not showing at all to a beached whale in the blink of an eye.
He bursts out laughing. “Holy crap, that’s hysterical. I happen to know your vagina inside and out. Probably better than you. Anything I can help with?”
I hold up my razor. “I wanted to shave for our wedding.”
We’re having a small ceremony tonight with close friends and family. When I agreed to it after the day I outed us to the world, I didn’t expect to be this big yet. I’ve had to buy six different dresses while trying to play catch-up with my constantly expanding waistline.
Outing us like that was in the works for a while. I knew how upset he was that I kept us a secret, but he’s so amazing to me that I wanted to give him the grandest of gestures on the grandest stage possible. I knew a large public display of affection would mean a lot to him.
Hank gave me the idea when I went to him about the lipstick name. I knew I wanted to name it after Rose, but I wanted to make sure it was okay with him. I always suspected Daylen had told him about us. I figured there was no way he was able to keep us a secret from his father, and I was right.
Hank and I talked a lot about Rose and how excited she’d be to see Daylen this happy.
We also spoke about how much Daylen was hurting from keeping us a secret.
I’m not sure I fully realized it until Hank articulated it.
We then devised the plan to reveal it in the biggest of ways.
It was my way of showing Daylen just how much I love and appreciate him.
Daylen was floating on cloud nine over it.
As soon as we got home after his game, he sprinted inside and returned the gesture by dropping to his knee and offering me the biggest diamond ring I’ve ever seen in my life.
Apparently he had purchased it and was waiting for the right time to give it to me.
I’m slightly obsessed with it. He did a great job picking it out.
It makes me wonder if he had help, but I’ve never asked.
He takes the razor from my hand. “I’ll do it for you.”
I scrunch my face in disgust. “I feel like that’s bizarrely intimate.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Your hand has been up my ass and mine yours. I’m pretty sure things don’t get much more intimate than that.”
I giggle. “True.” I rub my pubic hair. “Are you sure? Don’t mess up. I like it smooth.”
He nods. “I’m the one whose face will be buried in there tonight. I don’t want anything to go wrong. I promise. I have a vested interest in the safety of your vagina.”
I lay a towel on the tile floor of the bathroom and sit naked before spreading my legs while leaning back on my elbows. He fills two cups, one with hot water and the other with cold for rinsing. He gets down on his knees and then gently runs shaving cream over my center.
“Hmm, I think I like your pussy covered by me in white cream.”
I smile as I roll my eyes. “Stay focused.”
His eyes don’t move from my pussy. “Oh, I’m very focused.”
I look at his boxer-brief-covered crotch, which has grown a lot in the past minute. “I can’t believe you’re hard from this.”
He shrugs. “It’s kind of hot. And your legs are spread wide with your pink pussy on display. Of course I’m hard.”
I can’t help but lick my lips at the sight of his imposing manhood. Even doing something gentle like this, he’s still so big and masculine.
He notices and shakes his head. “Don’t even think about it. I’m not that kind of girl. I’m saving myself for marriage. It’s a good thing I’m getting married tonight because this sexy image will be playing on repeat for me all day.”
“Remarried,” I remind him.
He nods. “Remarried. I’ll miss Pinky Punnathanathukunnele this time.”
I giggle. “Me too. How often does an officiant run the ceremony and sing Elvis tunes at the same time?” I start singing one of those tunes.
“Shh. I’m focusing.”