At the car, Dalton moves to take my place, but I physically pick up his hand and move it off of Mae. I’m not sure I’m okay with anyone touching her right now, even Dalton. I step behind her and place a hand on the small of her back, helping her climb into the car.
Once inside, I can see the confusion all over her face. I just lean my head back against the leather and take a deep breath of fresh air. We can go home now and relax for the rest of the evening.
As I unwind, I feel a gentle hand rest on my thigh before it starts to caress small circles. Mae doesn’t say anything to me, and I say nothing to her. I just let her continue the relaxing sensation as I try to comb through my emotions and get to the root of whatever my behavior has been tonight.
Chapter 32
Mae
LAST NIGHT WAS weird, to say the least. I know we’re bound to see each other on rough days since we’ve been spending so much time together, but I guess I didn’t realize it would bother me as much as it did. Something set Wyatt off and he wouldn’t talk to me about it.
I didn’t want to pry it out of him in the car, so I just tried to be there as best I could and tried to get him to relax. I thought my gentle massaging would lend itself to opening him up when we got home but that wasn’t the case. We went to sleep without so much as a word to each other, and this morning we woke up and pretended like nothing happened. Instead of acknowledging what happened last night, he invited me out to the stadium. Somewhat confused, I agreed, hoping more time with him would help him feel comfortable enough to open up without me asking.
Despite a quiet ride, we showed up to Marsch Stadium without a care. Scarily enough, it was pretty easy to pretend thatall was well between us. He broke off to get ready for practice, and the media team snagged me for a tour. They invited me to be a part of one of their projects and, in an effort to put my struggling mind at ease for a bit, I agreed. Raleigh is always on top of social media trends, but I never get to interact with other people for videos so it was fun to have that opportunity.
Hiding behind the corner, we watched as Gators passed by and had to confess their favorite song of mine and then sing if they’re brave enough. I couldn’t help but laugh at some of their answers. Some players blushed and gave an honest opinion while others listed songs that aren’t even mine.
Ben and Wyatt were the last two through the tunnel and while Wyatt just held up heart hands to the camera, Ben answered for both of them, “I like them all. I think Wyatt’s is ‘Pretty in Pink.’” Wyatt gave him a death glare, and then the two of them continued on. “Pretty in Pink” is known as my feminist anthem; it’s probably not the favorite of any man. It was all hilarious, though, and I hope it works well for them on their platforms.
As I say farewell to my new friends on the media team, Melissa Ortiz catches me in the team tunnel. Thankful to see a friendly face, I join her in climbing into the stadium and settling into two seats. We toss our feet onto the chairs in front of us and take in the sights and sounds of football practice.
I’ve liked Melissa since the moment I met her, maybe even before that. I saw the videos she posted from my concert here, and from those alone, I can tell that she knows how to party.
“So, how are things going?” Melissa asks, her tongue searching for the straw of her Starbucks cup.
“Football? Championship rehearsals? Life? Which one do you mean?” I say with a sigh, looking out over the field.
She takes a sip and then narrows her eyes at me. “I think you know what I mean.”
Fidgeting, I try to play ignorant as long as I can. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m almost positive you’ve already seen these, but … ” She rotates her phone towards me and swipes through a lengthy carousel of pictures from last night. The picture of Wyatt and the random woman is already seared across my mind anyway. I’d seen the exchange from the stage as I made my introduction, and Raleigh had sent me an urgent message about it on the drive home. “It’d be against girl code if I didn’t show you.”
I nod, feeling comfortable enough to talk to Melissa, but not solid about speaking to her about my issues before Wyatt hears them. “We’re good,” I lie.
She nods as she brings the phone back to her lap. “Good, you should be. Wyatt’s a good man.”
I sigh again, “He is a good man. Maybe the best one I’ve ever known, but the bar really isn't all that high if you don’t count Dalton.”
Melissa reaches over and pats my knee. “Dating a player can be so stressful,” she starts, settling back into her seat. “His mood is always affected by how the team does or how sore he is after a workout, plus all the media coverage on his performance. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you, for both of you.”
“It’s tough on anyone,” I say, thinking about Hannah and how she constantly has to protect her kids. Everyone has their own battles, though sometimes I can’t imagine it being tougher on anyone else.
“I might not know what it’s like to be a global rock star or whatever, but Caleb and I have had our struggles. We’ve been friends for like 20 years -”
“Just friends?” I tease.
“Well, friends, up until recently. My point is that I was so jealous of him and literally every woman he ever dated, ever since high school. It was unbecoming, and it wasn’t until Iactually talked to him and told him what I wanted that I actually calmed the hell down.”
“Oh, so thisisa lecture,” I joke.
“Never,” she says. “I’m rooting for both of you, but I don’t want you to get swallowed by your careers. If that happens, the team will suffer and your music will, too.”
“I appreciate you looking out for me, but I don’t know what I’d say to him. He’s got the biggest game of his life coming up. I don’t want to put him off.” I let out a relieved breath. “I’ve tried to be patient the past few days, but he’s never been closed off before, so I’m learning how to navigate that.”
Melissa points down at the field. “Look at your boy out there, miss ma’am. He’s dragging butt. He looks distracted. I think some clarity would help him. There’s no way he’d be hurt by it.” I cringe as I spot his number; he’s jogging, dropping passes, and his body language is defensive.
“This is what I was afraid of in the first place,” I mumble. “I love him, but sometimes I think he’s too easy, and I mean that respectfully.” Melissa nods in agreement, allowing me the space to continue. “He never fought his suspension, even though he had every right to.” It’s something that’s bothered me since the day it happened. Because of me, he missed out on weeks of doing what he loves. “He’s never once done anything to wrong me, not so much as a disagreement.” Until this week.
