Chapter 40
FORTY
HAVEN
“Ohmygoshhhh. This is so good,” I murmur to literally no one, popping another bite of the buffalo mac and cheese into my mouth and sighing. “So … so good.”
Between Memphis, Cameran, and my mom, there’s enough food here to feed a small country, but these little buffalo mac and cheese cups are my favorite, by far.
I’ve already had three …
“Easy, killer,” Gigi says, coming next to me. “You know that in about five minutes, you’ll be complaining all that cheese hurt your stomach.”
She’s right. She’s so, so right. But I don’t care—it’ll be worth the pain.
Taking another bite, I shrug. “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s what you always say,” she utters, shaking her head.
Gigi has always been an extremely picky eater, but that’s just because her father controlled what she ate and how much for so many years.
I understand—to a certain degree—that we athletes need to eat right, put good shit in our bodies, and make sure we get enough protein.
But if I want to eat ten cups of my mama’s mac and cheese … I’m damn well going to do it.
When my brother steps behind her, sliding his hands around her waist and kissing her cheek, I roll my eyes, stuffing damn near the rest of the cup into my mouth.
“You two need to get a room,” I say, even though deep down, I love how happy they are.
“Already did that earlier.” He winks, and I hold my fork up.
“I will stab you, asshole,” I warn him. “With my dirty mac and cheese fork.”
He shakes his head at me before tugging her away toward him, but there’s way too much good food to leave this table yet. Besides, some of Dallas and Noah’s teammates are stopping over in a bit, and those dudes can eat. If I want to get the good stuff, my best bet is to do it now.
“Afraid the boys will get here and eat everything, babe?” Dallas says from behind me, the amusement obvious in his tone.
“Have you met them?” I say, grabbing a Diet Coke from the cold drinks. “It’s about to be every man and woman for themselves out here.”
When I turn to face him, he’s grinning ear to ear at me. “You’re cute when you’re feisty, Short.” Reaching in his pocket, he holds out some Tums in a tiny bag. “I saw you over here, attacking the mac and cheese.”
Looking from his hand to him, I can’t stop the stupid smile that spreads across my face. “You know me so well.”
Is it attractive that I’ll have heartburn from eating all this food? Definitely not. But after being around me as a kid and being my boyfriend now, Dallas is used to me bitching about my stomach hurting after overeating.
However … does my man somehow make hand delivering my antacid hot?
Yes. Yes, he does. That man could make anything hot. And to be honest, there’s nothing more attractive than him taking care of me, in my opinion.
Well, other than him bossing me around in bed. That … is next level hot.
“Should we go get a good seat on the couch?” I ask, putting my hand on his side. “I want the chaise lounge side of the sofa, and I’ll punch whoever tries to take it from me.”
“Easy, Short.” He chuckles. “Everyone knows that’s your designated spot.” He tucks a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “No matter what happens next, we’ll figure it out, right?”
I not only hear the worry in his tone, but I see it on his face.
Today could change everything, and we may find out that we’re going to live far, far away from each other.
We moved in with each other last summer and truthfully, Dallas, Boston, and I …
we’re a little family. I’m not ready for that to change yet.
I set my Diet Coke down and place both hands on his sides. “No matter what, we will be fine,” I promise him, meaning every word because even though I’m scared for the changes, I know that nothing could ever break us.
Not even distance.
He gives me a half smile, but something is bothering him, I can tell.
“What’s going on?” I whisper. “What are you thinking right now?”
Looking down, he swallows. Gradually, his gaze lifts to mine, carrying a heaviness with it.
“Today should be your day, Haven,” he utters. “You won a huge game. You made the last out. You got a goddamn golden ticket given to you from your idol!” He sighs. “You made it into the pros, just like you’ve always wanted. And instead of celebrating you, we’re here at the NFL draft.”
“So?” I say, my eyebrows pinching together.
“So … your dad was in the NFL all while you were growing up. Even now that he’s retired, the attention’s always on him.” He tips his head up for a moment, exhaling. “This should be about you. Today … it should be about you.”
I reach upward, cupping his cheeks. Even though he’s clearly upset, I can’t stop from smiling.
“No, D. Today? It’s about us. Me and you.
” I drag his face closer to mine, pressing my forehead to his.
“I love that we get to celebrate this day together. That right there? It’s a gift.
” I kiss him, keeping my lips on his for a few seconds before pulling back.
“Today has been incredible. But if I get to sit beside you on your mom and dad’s couch and your name gets called up to the NFL …
that will make this day a dream come true.
” I kiss him once more. “Come on, let’s go get a seat.
You don’t want me to have to drop kick someone, do you? ”
It takes him a moment but eventually, he nods. “All right,” he whispers. “As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m more than sure,” I promise. “Come on.”
DALLAS
I couldn’t sit down during the draft, so instead, I paced behind the couch, wondering if everyone came out tonight for nothing. We’re only five players into the first round, and I’m sweating, telling myself that I’m probably not going to get picked.
I’m not even that good, probably.
“Hey,” Haven says to me during a commercial, reaching over the back of the couch and touching my arm. “You okay?”
I stuff my hands deeper into my pockets and shrug. “I don’t … I don’t know …” I look her in the eyes, and immediately, I know she understands all the thoughts in my head.
Lifting her arms up, she smiles. “Hey, come here. Give me a hug,” she whispers, and gradually, I lean down, hugging her over the back of the couch. My parents’ house is loud. Too loud. I’m a fucking wreck, but with her keeping me grounded, it all drowns out.
“Any team will be lucky to have you, baby,” she tells me, rubbing my back. “I promise you that.”
She hugs me a little longer, but when the draft comes back on the screen, her arms slowly drop and I stand up straight. For a moment, she calmed me. But right now, I don’t think anything could cure my nerves.
“Can you just … hold my phone,” I murmur, holding it out to her. “I can’t—it’s …”
Gently taking it from my palm, she nods. “Sure, D.”
“Carolina is on the clock,” the announcer says, and my brain spins.
It’s still early in the first round, and I doubt I’ll get chosen this soon. I’m just a kid who started playing football when I was ten years old. Some of the dudes getting picked tonight practically had a ball in their hands when they were born.
I’m so busy watching the television, I miss the screen of my phone lighting up in Haven’s hand until she’s holding it up for me.
“Um … D? You might want to take this,” she whispers, trying not to alert everyone.
With shaky hands, I take the phone from her and reluctantly slide my finger across the screen. I hear her say something to everyone, and within seconds, the room grows silent.
Too silent.
“H … hello?” I hate how shaky my voice is. I need to get it the fuck together, but my palms are sweaty, and my legs feel weak.
A part of me wants to walk into my bedroom because being the center of attention this way makes me extremely uncomfortable. But, when my mom’s tear-filled eyes meet mine, and I know she’s hanging onto every word she hears me say into this phone, I can’t take this moment from her.
“Hey, Dallas?” a deep voice with a thick southern accent says.
“Hi,” is all I can muster before my brain no longer knows how to talk thanks to the nerves taking over.
“This is Carl Rose with the Carolina Cyclones,” he says, and I put a hand on the back of the couch to steady myself. “How would you like to come play some football with us down here? We’re calling you up, son. You’re the sixth pick, and you’re everything we’re looking for in a quarterback.”
My eyes fall to Haven’s, whose are the size of dinner plates, I swear.
“I ...” Work brain. Fucking work. “I would love that,” I finally manage to force from my lips. “T—thank you, sir.”
“Welcome to the team, Rivers,” he says. “We’ll be in touch real soon.”
The call ends, and my hand drops to my side.
I know why we’re all here tonight, and it’s for this very reason.
But I don’t think I truly believed someone would have enough faith to draft me.
Coach King has always been my biggest supporter, but part of me thought that after NEU, my days would be over.
“I’m …” I stop, looking around the room, feeling a bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck. “I’m a Carolina Cyclone.” I say the words, not fully believing them even though they’re coming from my own mouth.
Leaping over the back of the couch, Haven is in my arms, gushing with excitement and kissing practically every inch of my face.
“I’m so proud of you!” she screams as her legs wrap around my waist. “I love you so much!”
When her lips finally press to mine, I don’t think either of us cares that there’s a room full of people because this moment is too big to give a fuck about any of that.
“Thank you, Short,” I murmur against her lips. “Looks like we’re both going pro.”
“Damn right, we are,” she says, her lip trembling before she kisses me once more. “I’m going to back away from my hot NFL boyfriend now, because there are lot of other people in here who want to congratulate you.”
Wiggling slightly, she drops down and walks into the crowd.
I look at my parents across the room, my mom’s hand on her mouth as she cries, and my dad’s eyes glossy. “I’m in the NFL.”
The entire room erupts into cheers, and everyone jumps up from their seats to celebrate. Those who were already standing jump up and down. But even though it’s loud in here, I hardly hear the noise because I still can’t believe it.
I got fucking drafted. First round too.
My parents rush toward me, making a damn group hug as they both squeeze my body. I’ve been with them for a long time now. I’ve seen my father earn awards and other exciting things happen for both of them, but I’ve never seen them this elated.
“Never doubted that you’d make it, D,” Dad says, squeezing my shoulder. “You’re too damn good to ignore.”
“Baby boy!” my mom sobs, cupping my cheek. “You did it! You really, really did it.”
When they’re both looking at me, my throat threatens to close up, but I need to say what I’m about to. I need them to know.
“If it weren’t for you two, I would have never picked up a football.
I don’t even know if I’d still be alive, to tell you the truth.
” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.
“You gave me a life worth living.” I look at my mom.
“You showed me what it’s like to be loved.
” I look at my dad. “You helped me fall in love with football and gave me an outlet within the game.” My throat burns, and I fight back crying like a little baby.
“You two didn’t have to love me, but you did.
You gave me life.” I throw my arms around both their necks. “Thank you, Mom and Dad.”
“You gave us life, Dallas,” my mom says, her voice squeaky. “After years of feeling like we were missing someone or something in our lives, you ended up being exactly what we needed.”
“She’s right,” my dad adds. “You completed our family, D. So, it’s us who should be thanking you.”
They each hug me once more before Coach King shoves between them.
“All right, all right, that’s enough from you two,” he teases. “It’s my turn to hug this little shithead.”
He hugs me tightly, pounding a palm against my back.
“I knew you were special from the first time I saw you throw a football, kid,” he says close to my ear.
“It didn’t matter that you’d barely played because you had something inside you that some players will never have.
” He leans back, looking me in the eye and pointing to my chest. “You had the heart for it. The grit. The want to be better … the want to be the best.” He reaches up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
“I’ve coached a lot of players, D, but I don’t think I’ll ever coach another you. ”
“And I don’t think I’ll ever be coached by another you either,” I say, meaning every word of it. This man changed my entire life. He gave me a role being a leader, and I felt like I had a place. He believed in me, even when I wasn’t sure I was worth the hype.
“I know that you’re probably worried about what will happen if Haven ends up on a team far away from you, but don’t be worried right now, kid.” His blue eyes look into me. “Right now, you two just celebrate everything that’s happened today. Worry about the rest as it comes.”
“Yes, sir.” I nod, knowing that I probably won’t be able to do what he’s telling me to do, but I’m going to try.
“All right, you’ve got a lot of people to hug, so get your ass on it.” He grins, giving my back one more smack. “You did good, D. Proud of you.”
When he lets me go, and I see everyone cheering, all waiting to congratulate me, I can’t believe how different this moment is compared to how I used to think about my life turning out.
I used to feel like I had no one in the entire world who loved me.
I always thought I was stupid, too, because I did so poorly in school and just assumed it was because my brain didn’t work right.
Then Haven showed up for me, telling me that it’s okay to need extra help and it’s all right to learn differently.
She helped me see that I’m not dumb; I just needed something different than most other students do.
Now, I have accommodations in school that allow me to reach my full potential and not constantly feel overwhelmed.
And I have a room full of people, all here just for me on my special day.
Oh, and let’s not forget my hot, professional-softball-player girlfriend who I can’t wait to take to my room at the end of this night to have our own celebration.
As a kid, I’d lie in my bed at night and think about how much I hated my life. Now, I have to say it’s pretty damn great. I’m one lucky motherfucker, that’s for sure.