My face, neck, spine, even my toes, felt hot from embarrassment. I’d never been one to think guys, especially jocks, would refer to me as hot. “I-I had no idea.”
He unfastened the last button on my shirt, biting his lower lip at the sight before him. “Well, when you have a hot best friend the struggle is undeniably real, even more so when that best friend becomes your girl. Point is, it doesn’t matter what other people say or try to do. I’m not going anywhere, and I know neither are you. Don’t let groupies bother you, just as I’ve stopped letting things horny guys say bother me.”
With one hand busy on my butt, he drove the other through my hair, pulling slightly as his tongue swept across my neck.
“Enough of that shit.” He nipped my lower lip, blue eyes full of fervor as I rocked against his growing bulge. “As usual, your sexy ass has made my cock hard. I think it’s time we step into the shower.”
29
Exuberance consumed me as I sat in the arena; the fans in the stands were already cheering, rallying out of control with excitement.
The anticipation of what would follow was like taking a shot of tequila and feeling the burn as it slid down my throat, on a slow and steady route to my gut. In other words, one must endure the bitter burn of the high before you get to enjoy it.
All the years I’d spent playing football, my dedication, my love, my knowledge of the game could either be brought to an abrupt end or be elevated to a degree seen only in my dreams, in a matter of minutes.
Literally.
Each team in the first round had only ten minutes to make their pick—the shortest and longest ten minutes of my life.
Seated to my right were Mom and Dad, and to my left, Macy looking gorgeous in a dark blue body-hugging knee-length dress that complemented her figure and eyes. Beside her, sat Sage and AJ. As a second-round pick, he was expected to undergo the same level of stress the next day. After both receiving an exclusive invite to attend Draft Day events, the two of us agreed to partake in each other’s sessions, giving our full brohood support.
NFL Commissioner, Tony Adwell, along with a few members of the hosting states team, the Tennessee Titans, took to the podium, behind them, a sign that said “The Future Is Now.”
The crowd exploded.
Hands intertwined, I brought Macy’s to my mouth for a kiss, my leg bouncing erratically.
“Don’t be nervous, handsome.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “Youwillget picked. No doubt about it.”
Tony’s voice, the distinct timbre, sliced through the microphone, each syllable spoken sharp as a knife.
“Welcome, football fans, to this year’s NFL Draft,” he began. “Thank you all for being here to welcome our future NFL stars.”
Mom leaned in and said, “I’m proud of you Son, so damn proud.”
It meant a lot coming from her, having been against me playing football from the start after witnessing my father suffer through a career-ending knee injury.
Commissioner Adwell waited for the crowd to settle down before he announced the first team up for a pick. “Cleveland Browns are on the clock.”
Always, the team who had the worst record last season picked first, and if I’m being honest, I was glad my name wasn’t announced as that team’s pick ten minutes later.
Tony announced the second team on the clock and again, I prayed they would not pick me. Sure, beggars can’t be choosers, but as one of the nation’s best college quarterbacks, I was hopeful.
However, when my name wasn’t announced for pick three or pick four, panic began to settle in, especially when the team I wanted to play for, San Francisco, chose Sherlock Benson, who got booed by AJ and several others in the crowd as he walked on stage to shake the commissioner’s hand. I spotted Harper in the crowd, cheering for her asshole of a man, which made me want to heave the way pregnant Sage did whenever she got a whiff of AJ’s cologne.
“You okay?” Macy smiled up at me, our hands still intertwined.
I leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Just taking everything in.”
When Tony announced the New York Jets were on the clock, hope bloomed in my chest. I’d never considered playing for an east coast team, my heart, and desires set on staying somewhere west.
The crowd buzzed as he returned back to the podium, those ten minutes that passed longer than summer solstice.
He cleared his throat as he opened the envelope. “The New York Jets pick Lucas Stone. Quarterback. UCLA.”
My dad, Mom, AJ, everyone all cheered, patting me on the back, giving me hugs and high-fives.
I kissed Macy, then everything beyond that was a blur. I barely remember walking up on stage to shake Tony’s hand and placing the Jets cap onto my head. But when I got back to my seat, I do remember my girl’s face beaming, pride and excitement in her eyes.
