The corner of his mouth lifted. “Are you implying my house is modest?”
I chuckled softly. “Now, don’t go putting words in my mouth. You have a lovely home. I was just expecting something bigger.”
He leaned back slightly, considering that question. “It’s just me. I don’t need a big mansion or to live in a glass box overlooking the city. So, why bother? Here, I can barbecue, relax, and have a place for my family and friends to stay when they are in town.”
These were routine questions, but I was still thrown off by how honest his answers were.
“So, this house keeps you grounded?”
“I guess you can say that.”
I glanced down at my notes. “It’s public knowledge that you are close to your family. What about childhood friends?”
“I’m still close with most of them.”
I tilted my head to the side. “You know, your fan mail is going to get bigger after this article, right? Women are going to go nuts over you.”
He laughed. “As long as the fans are happy, then I’m happy.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay, switching gears. You mentioned that people don’t understand the cost you paid to get to where you are. What’s the biggest sacrifice for you personally?”
His lips thinned, and I thought for a moment that he would shut me down, but then his gaze flicked back to the family photos on the wall. “Time. Birthdays, holidays, and weddings that happen on game days. Moments I’ll never get back and memories I never get to make.”
I nodded, understanding more than I had expected to. “Do you ever regret it?”
He didn’t answer right away. I could see him trying to choose his words carefully.
“I regret what it cost me sometimes, but I knew what I was signing up for.”
I leaned forward, picking up on something. Not regret, more along the lines of resigning himself to the fact that this was the way it was. “You sound like a man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.”
He huffed out a laugh, but there was no humor behind it. “As you know, quarterbacks face a higher level of scrutiny and responsibilities. If we lose, I get blamed. If we win, they try to give me all the credit. Neither is true.”
I should have stopped there, but I felt propelled forward. He was giving me an in, and I was taking it. “What about Nate, the man? What does he want for himself?”
Nate drummed his fingers along the armrest of his chair. “What I want is something I can’t have right now. Balance, normalcy. Someone who sees me as more than just the Hawks’ quarterback.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
His lips curved. “What about you? What do you want? You have been firing off questions at me for weeks. Turnabout is fair play.”
“That’s not how it works.” I laughed, hoping he would drop it, but something told me he wouldn’t.
“What does your job cost you?”
I tucked one leg under the other, shifting nervously in my seat. I wasn’t prepared to talk about myself.
“Long hours, constant deadlines. Personal relationships.”
“Care to elaborate on the last one?”
I pulled on the sleeves of my blazer. “I work in a man’s world, so I feel like I have to work ten times harder to prove myself. And when you pour all that energy and focus into your career, it makes it hard to be in a committed relationship.”
“I guess we’re not that different after all.” He rested his elbows on the desk. “Is your boyfriend supportive of your career?”
I bristled, feeling heat shoot up the back of my neck. The blood rushing in my ears was so loud it was hard to hear myself think. Technically speaking, I didn’t owe him anything, but Nate had been very open with me, so my gut told me to do the same. Besides, I hated lying.
I laced my hands tightly together. “Okay, so there’s something I should probably clarify.”
