Chapter 24
Mars
Time had a strange way of moving once the playoffs started.
The days seemed to disappear, and before either of us realized it, life had quietly settled into something steady.
Something real.
It wasn't perfect, but it was ours, and that made all the difference.
The morning of the Championship felt different the second I opened my eyes.
The excitement was already there, sitting somewhere between my ribs.
One more game.
One win.
One step away from the Super Bowl.
Jalen was still asleep beside me, his arm draped lazily across my waist while the early morning sunlight slipped through the curtains.
I smiled to myself before carefully sliding out from underneath him.
The movement must have stirred him because I heard his sleepy voice behind me.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I turned around and laughed.
"The kitchen."
He reached for my hand.
"Five more minutes."
"You have a championship game today."
"I know."
"You have to get moving."
He sighed dramatically before sitting up and rubbing a hand across his face.
"You ruin all my fun."
"I keep your life together."
He smiled.
"That too."
An hour later we were both standing beneath the warm spray of the shower, laughing because he somehow managed to steal all of the hot water like he did every single morning.
"You are impossible," I complained as I nudged him with my shoulder.
"I've been told.I laughed, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead before turning the water off.
After we finished getting ready, I headed downstairs while Jalen disappeared back upstairs to grab the rest of his gear.
The kitchen had slowly morphed into our unofficial command center on game days.
I pulled his heavy lunch pail onto the marble counter and started packing everything exactly the way I always did now, the routine familiar and comforting.
His protein shake went in first, slotted perfectly into the mesh holder.
Then two peanut butter protein bars.
An extra bottle of ice water.
Three electrolyte packets.
A container of fresh fruit.
Finally, I added a hearty peanut butter sandwich, the crusts cut off, because I knew from experience he'd eat it on the bus ride even when he stubbornly insisted he wasn't hungry.
Just before zipping it, I pulled one small, neatly folded piece of white paper from my pocket and tucked it deep into the front zipper pocket where I knew he wouldn't find it until he was sitting alone at his locker.
Good luck, Number One.
I believe in you more than you'll ever know.
No matter what happens out on that field today, you're already my favorite victory.
I love you.
I zipped the bag closed with a clean snap just as the heavy thud of his footsteps started coming back down the stairs.
I looked up.
Lord, help me.
He had on a crisp, fitted white T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, making casual look unfairly good, along with a pair of classic gray athletic shorts and clean white sneakers.
I slowly looked him up and down, crossing my arms over my chest before shaking my head.
“What did I explicitly tell you about wearing those gray shorts in public?”
He looked down at himself, a perfectly innocent, boyish expression hitting his face.
“I know, I know.
But they're comfortable, Mars.”
“Mmhmm.
Sure they are.”
He laughed, a low rumble that vibrated through the quiet kitchen as he walked over, closing the distance and wrapping both of his massive arms tightly around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
“I'll change into the suit right after the game, I promise.”
“You better.”
“Besides,” he murmured, his eyes dancing with pure mischief as he looked down at me.
“You love the attention.”
“I only want yours.”
The second the words left my mouth, a sudden, scorching heat rushed straight to my cheeks.
He smiled, the crooked grin widening because he knew exactly what he was doing to me, completely proud of the fact that he could still make me blush after a whole month.
I cleared my throat, trying to regain my footing, and handed him his lunch pail along with his heavy duffel bag.
“Everything you need is in there.
Don't forget to hydrate before warmups.”
He unzipped the main flap, peering inside before looking back up at me, his expression softening completely.
“Thank you, my love.”
He smiled, a deep, genuine look, before leaning down and covering my face with a ridiculous, breathless number of kisses, landing on my nose, my cheeks, and my chin until I was squirming in his arms and couldn't stop laughing.
“I can't wait to look up and see you in the stands later,” he murmured against my lips.
“I can't wait either.”
A few minutes after he left, I headed upstairs to get ready myself.
I slipped into the custom jersey I had made with his number one sparkling in tiny crystals across the front.
It was cropped just enough to feel feminine without taking away from the jersey itself.
I paired it with fitted dark jeans and nude heels before pulling my long curls into a high ponytail that bounced softly down my back.
I took one last look in the mirror and smiled.
Football girlfriend looked pretty good on me.
My phone buzzed.
Nia.
"Girl, I'm downstairs."
I grabbed my duffle bag since we already knew we probably wouldn't be back until late, double-checked that I had my everything, charger, my camera, ect. Then, I hurried outside.
The black SUV Jalen had arranged was already waiting.
Mark climbed out to help with our bags while Nia stepped out wearing a fitted jersey dress and heels.
Her curls were piled beautifully on top of her head, and somehow she looked effortlessly gorgeous as always.
She looked me up and down before grinning.
"Football girlfriend looks good on you."
I laughed.
"I was just thinking the same thing."
She loaded another bag into the back of the SUV before climbing inside beside me.
I couldn't help smiling at her.
"And sports podcaster girlfriend looks pretty good on you too."
She froze.
Slowly turned toward me.
Then smacked my butt as I climbed into my seat.
"Hush up, kid."
I burst into laughter.
"You know I'm right."
"You enjoy causing problems."
"I absolutely do."
Mark looked back at us through the mirror.
"Ladies, music?"
"Turn it up," we answered together.
He smiled and turned the volume up while Nia reached into the cooler between us.
She pulled out a bottle of Dom Pérignon and held it up.
"To today."
"To today."
The soft pop echoed through the SUV before she poured us each a glass.
As we pulled onto the highway, it felt like the entire city was moving in the same direction.
Cars stretched for miles, nearly every one of them decorated with Texans flags or painted windows.
Sports bars overflowed with fans wearing jerseys, and strangers honked at one another every time they spotted someone dressed in team colors.
The closer we got to the stadium, the louder everything became.
Houston wasn't just hosting a football game.
The entire city believed something special was about to happen.
By the time we arrived, the energy was electric.
Fans poured through every entrance carrying signs, flags, and jerseys while music blasted across the parking lots.
The excitement felt contagious.
Mark escorted us through the private family entrance before leading us toward the family section.
I immediately spotted my parents.
My mom hurried over first.
"There she is!"
She pulled me into a hug before stepping back to admire my jersey.
"You look beautiful."
"So do you."
Before I could say anything else, Jane, Jalen's mom wrapped me into one of her warm hugs.
She kissed my cheek and held both of my hands.
"I am so happy you're here."
"I'm happy to be here too."
She smiled at me with tears already gathering in her eyes.
"I couldn't have asked God for a better woman to love my son."
Emotion caught me completely off guard.
I hugged her again.
Over the last several months, Sunday dinners had quietly turned into Saturday dinners instead since Sunday football took it's place. It has become our favorite tradition.
My mom automatically made enough food for all of us, my dad and Jalen spent hours talking football, and somehow every dinner ended with laughter around the tableIt had become home.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cal stealing another subtle glance toward Nia while desperately pretending to be deeply analytical about the warmups on the turf below.
I smiled to myself, adjusting my cardigan.
Those two were absolutely, utterly hopeless.
One day they were finally going to stop pretending and put the rest of us out of our misery.
My dad wrapped me in another tight, heavy hug before pointing proudly toward the field.
“I've been watching film with your man all week, Mars.
His reads are sharp.”
I laughed, leaning into his side.
“I know you have, Dad.
He told me.”
Watching those two together always made me incredibly emotional.
Somewhere along the way, without making a single loud announcement about it, my dad had quietly become the rock-solid father figure Jalen never got to have after losing his own.
They watched game film together on Tuesday nights.
They talked on FaceTime for hours, analyzing coverages.
They debated adjustments like two seasoned coaches instead of a father and a future son-in-law.
Neither of them ever acknowledged the deep bond that had grown between them.
They didn't have to.
It was obvious in the way they stood together.
A few moments later, Jalen jogged toward the family section during the final minutes of warmups, his jersey taut across his shoulder pads.
He waved up at my mom and Jane before reaching over the concrete railing to firmly shake my dad's hand.
Cal leaned down over the barrier and dapped him up with an easy, teammate grin.
Then, he looked up at me.
Everything about his posture changed.
The intense, unyielding game face he used to terrify defenses disappeared instantly, completely replaced by the soft, warm smile that somehow belonged entirely to me.
I leaned over the metal railing as far as my frame could manage.
He reached up, his large palm open for my hand.
Instead, I ignored his gesture, reaching down to cup his face between my palms, and leaned down just enough to press a gentle, lingering kiss against his lips.
He smiled directly into the kiss, his breathing hot against my skin.
“You've got this, baby,” I whispered against his mouth.
His hand moved up, his thumb firmly squeezing my wrist.
“I'm winning this entire game for us, Mars.”
“I know you are.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He pulled back slightly, lingering just long enough to kiss the back of my hand with a deep, deliberate pressure before finally letting my fingers go.
Then, he smoothly slipped his helmet on, locked the visor, turned back toward the field, and disappeared into a sea of rushing jerseys.
I stood at the railing, watching the number one on his back until I couldn't tell him apart from the rest of the team anymore.
To every other person sitting in the seventy-thousand-seat stadium, he was the franchise quarterback, the city hero, the man carrying the weight of a multi-million-dollar team.
To me, he was simply the man who had torn down my defenses and taught me that love could actually feel safe.
And somehow, looking out at the bright stadium lights under the Houston sky, I knew with every single part of my heart that this wasn't the biggest moment of our story.
It was only the beginning..