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She bites her bottom lip. “Can I come in?”
“Uh. Yeah,” I tease like it’s a ridiculous question.
She crawls up on the bed and stretches her legs out next to mine, resting against the headboard. “It’s strange that you’re leaving tomorrow. Just like that.”
“I know.” I try to read her tone, but I can’t. “It’s unfair, but unfortunately, it’s how it works.”
She runs her finger over the stitching in my quilt. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.” I set my phone on the nightstand.
She crosses her ankles. “What happens now?” She pauses, letting the question hang there for a second. “I mean…with us. I know this wasn’t planned or expected. I don’t want what happened with my parents or everything that’s going on to make you feel like you’ve committed to something you’d rather just be free of when you get on the plane.”
I choose my words carefully, needing her to see. “I don’t want anything to change. I know I’m leaving, and it’s completely selfish of me to ask you to give me a chance, but I want one. I don’t know how often I’ll be able to come back before the end of the season, but I want to come back. I want to be with you.”
“I don’t want to be something that hangs over your head or be a distraction. It’s important you’re focused, and I imagine you won’t have a lot of free time.”
I grab her hand, lacing her fingers with mine and bringing them to my chest. “This is important. I made a mistake, thinking football and fame were everything. I thought it gave me value and made me worthy, but…I know now that there’s so much more. None of it even matters if I lose what’s really important.”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “I don’t want anything to change either, but I’ve done the distance thing before. Even though it was to a greater extent, it was really difficult. You and I, we’re just–”
I cut her off, unable to stand her going any further. “This isn’t the same. There are no scheduled phone calls or limits. You can call me whenever you want. I’m going to talk to you all the time, and when I can, I’ll come to see you.” I pause for a moment, hesitant with my next words. “I know it may be difficult, but you and Ax can come to see me as often as you want. I might even give you passes to the game.”
Her head pops up, surprise written all over her face before her eyebrows pinch together.
“What’s wrong?” I see her wheels churning.
“If I were to ever step out on a field with you, we’ll create a firestorm all over again.”
“Maybe. Or maybe by now, you and I are old news. Either way, I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks or says or writes. It’s you and me and no one else.”
“I’m not going to pretend that doesn’t worry me.”
I squeeze her hand. “I know. It’s up to you how we do this. I’m perfectly fine keeping things just between us, but I’m also happy to take a picture right now of you in my bed and blast it everywhere.”
She shoves me, laughing. When it’s quiet again, she shivers. “Do you have a window open?”
“Yeah. I like the fresh air. Are you cold?” I wrap an arm around her, and she brings her knees to her chest, leaning into me.
“Can I ask you another question?” The pad of her pointer finger runs over my knuckle and back again.
“Andie, stop asking me that.”
Her voice is soft and gentle. “What’s with all of the nightlights?”
This is not what I was expecting. My eyes dart to the two nightlights, one on either side of the room. The dozen or so placed around the house are familiar to me, so I didn’t even think about her noticing. No one ever has.
I’m not embarrassed, but talking about this brings an amount of anxiety and memories I like to avoid. Being a full-grown man and still afraid of the dark is not common and not something I like to admit, but with Andie, I’m willing to lay my masculine guard down and explain.
“I don’t like the dark. At least not pitch black. I can’t sleep like that. It feels…confining, and if I wake up in complete darkness, sometimes I panic.”
“How come?” Her arm moves over my stomach to my side, like a hug, and it helps lessen the strap pulling tight around my chest.
I pull in a breath and let it out, attempting to ease my fight or flight response activating with memories. “One of the foster homes I was in, they locked me in the basement; no light, no windows–it was complete darkness. I never knew how long I’d be there or if they’d ever come back. I think sometimes it was hours or sometimes longer. Sometimes, I’d be so scared I’d wear myself out with fear and panic and fall asleep. When I’d wake up…”
My skin prickles, my heart pounds, and every muscle contracts with stepping back to that time.
“I wasn’t in that home too long, but it was long enough. Eventually, I got smart and started keeping things in my pocket to try to pick the lock. I never got it, but it gave me something to do, to focus on.”
