AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I fucking love it.
“Total bullshit,” I agree. “I’ve never understood why they care so much about protecting this masculine stigma. We might be rough on the field, but we also cry. We get sad. We pretend like the things fans yell at us don’t bother us, but when someone tells me they wish I’d jump off the top of a building and die after missing a field goal in a football game—as if there aren’t bigger fucking issues in the world—it gets to me.”
“No one should have to deal with that.” Maven reaches over and takes my hand in hers. “I support you, Dallas. And I hope you know the apartment is safe. You can be yourself here. You can be yourself aroundme. You can cry. Scream and yell. Whatever it is that you have to bottle up and keep hidden while you’re on the field or in front of cameras, you’re allowed to let it out here. I want to see it.”
“Are you sure about that? You understand what it’s like being an athlete. There are highs. But there are also a lot of lows. It’s complicated. Messy. Ugly, too, and no matter what face I put on when we get defeated, I still end up in those dark places when people try and highlight my flaws. And if they ever said anything about June—” I trail off and shake my head once. “I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Don’t keep them in. Give them to me. I like messy. I like complicated. I like flaws—allof them.” She smiles at me so sweetly, so genuinely, I feel it behind my ribs. It’s an ache that’s never been there before. Like I’d do anything to make sure she smiles like that again. “Especially yours. Don’t go to the dark places alone.”
I stare at her, and for the first time, I feel seen as a player and a father.
Heard.
Understood.
It’s scary to show parts of yourself to someone else, but I like her having them. I’d give her everything, if I could, and I feel like she’d do the same for me.
“Thank you,” I say, and my voice is barely above a whisper. I squeeze her hand, and she rubs her thumb over my knuckles. “What is it with us and conversations turning deep as shit?”
“No clue.” She laughs and untangles our hands to take a sip of her beer. “Guess it means we’re comfortable around each other.”
“Yeah.” I nod and drag my eyes away from her face. “I guess we are.”
“Speaking of comfortable, I hope you don’t think June is bad luck. Her first game and you lose? It’s got to be an anomaly.”
“Nah. This one is on me.” I play with the bracelet around my wrist and smile. “Besides, I only believe in superstitions when it comes to winning.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whenever I wear my blue socks instead of my white ones, we win. When I eat a cookie the night before a game, we win. And, most recently this season, whenever you and I hang out together on a Friday night and drink a night cap, we win on Sunday.”
“You know what? We didn’t drink on Friday in Cleveland. We only ate pizza. It was good pizza, but clearly not game-winning pizza. Dammit, Dallas. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve run out to the convenience store and grabbed some Natty Ice.”
I grimace and clutch my beer bottle to my chest. “I’d rather take the loss than drink that shit. I haven’t had a Natty Ice since college. I’ve moved on to more refined choices.”
“You really need to add tequila to your liquor cabinet.”
“Is that your drink of choice?”
“Yeah. If you want something actually refined that’s not watered down foam, I make a mean tequila sunrise.”
“She’s a bartender too, ladies and gentleman,” I say, and Maven launches a pillow at my head. “Is there anything this woman can’t do?”
“Many things. I can’t fold a fitted sheet.”
“No one can.”
“I can’t change a tire,” she says.
“Easy. I’ll teach you.”
“I can’t make breakfast without burning toast.”
“Toast is overrated. Bagels are much better.”
“I could never get a tattoo, no matter how much I want one.”
“What?” I set my beer down and turn toward her. “You don’t have any tattoos?”
