Page 50 of Last Slice of Pie

FOR YEARS, I’VE thought about what it would be like to ring in the new year with Lexi.

As kids, we were allowed to stay up until midnight and drink sparkling grape juice with GiGi, but once James and I got older, we spent the night out with friends, at parties, doing who knows what. As time passed and I got older, my mind always drifted back to her, where she might be or who she might be with. Hearing her say last night that she spent last year by herself, I was pleased—not because I’m an asshole who delights in the idea of her spending holidays by herself, but because there was no one else she favored enough to want to spend the evening with. I might have been at Billy’s, but I was alone as well.

Dinner was incredible last night, but nothing can compare to the hours we spent tangled up together afterward. I knew being intimate with her would mean something, but I never expected this. Her openness and vulnerability to explore and be what I need—it overwhelms me, and I shudder at the thought.

“Can you feel that?” she asked at one point, clenching me meaningfully. “Is that how it feels good to you? Tight?” My eyes damn near rolled back into my head.

“Yeah,” I told her, slipping my hands into her hair and pulling harder than I should have. She hissed in a breath as she rocked above me, the entire experience forever branding itself onto my memory.

How does she know to do these things? And how does she know to do them to me? The muscles in my lower stomach contract and I take a deep breath to stave off a scenario that could be somewhat embarrassing for both of us.

Glancing down, my eyes travel along the very low-cut design of the back of Lexi’s dress. She looks amazing, her skin so soft, and I’m suddenly wishing we were alone so I could dip my hand inside the dress and over her ass.

Per Camille’s request, this New Year’s Eve party is black tie, and the theme is silver and gold. Most of us moaned upon hearing the dress code, but seeing Lexi now, like this, I’m thinking Camille was onto something. My date is wearing tall gold heels and this tiny spaghetti-strapped gold dress that hugs all her curves perfectly. Her hair is pulled up, leaving her neck exposed, and since leaving the house, I’ve already put my teeth on her twice.

“Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself. Everything looks so beautiful,” Lexi tells Camille as we walk through the house, past the kitchen to the back lanai, which overlooks the water of the bay.

I’ve been looking forward to this party. The last couple of weeks have been stressful, and a night out with her and my friends where we aren’t in uniform, aren’t on the field, and are just having a good time here overlooking the water is what I desperately need.

Reid and Camille only moved into this house a few months ago, but it didn’t take them long to make it look and feel like a home. Then again, Camille has a knack for decorating, so no one is surprised. The most interesting piece is a chandelier mobile that hangs just inside the front door. It’s lit up with dangling crystals and has carefully hung paper airplanes all around it.

“I’d like to say I did it all, but I didn’t. Missy uses this event planning company called Volia, Inc, and they are amazing at bringing any vision to life. The owner is very reasonably priced, and in return uses the team events as advertisement for her business. It works out well for all of us.”

“I’d say so,” Lexi says, taking in the elaborate splendor before us.

The weather is cool this year, but not so cool that a few heat lamps can’t do the trick of taking the chill out of the air. The sky is clear, the stars are out, and looking up, I easily spot Orion’s Belt and Gemini. Tables have been strategically placed all around the pool, there’s a five-piece band set up off to the side, and everything seems to glitter and sparkle. I’m impressed, and it seems Lexi is too.

“It looks so beautiful, Camille.” It truly does.

Leaning closer so only we can hear, she says, “Keep her in mind—she plans all kinds of events.” She winks, and Lexi blushes.

I know exactly what she’s alluding to, and it’s not that I haven’t thought about spending the rest of my life with Lexi. I’ve thought about it for years, but talking about a wedding, having someone else mention it—it somehow makes me feel different, and my stomach turns sour. Maybe it’s because I have other things on my mind, like the playoffs, and I can’t handle the possibility of one more thing on my plate. I don’t know, but it’s a different I don’t like, and my mood instantly shifts.

Just like that.

“Hey, man.” Reid comes to stand next to me, and he claps me on the shoulder. Camille drags Lexi over to meet a few people, and I shove my hands into my pockets. I’m surprised by the sudden change in my emotions, and I don’t understand it. The thought of a wedding with Lexi shouldn’t be triggering a negative effect; it should be sparking excited anticipation.

“Hey. Nice party,” I tell him, unsuccessfully hiding my frown but genuinely meaning the sentiment.

He pops an eyebrow, and I feel my forehead wrinkling as my scowl deepens.

“Still not over it, huh?” He shakes his head. “Well, you need to let it go for tonight. I’m going to grab you a beer, and you’re gonna relax.” He pins me with a look and then walks off to grab us both a drink.

Still not over it. My jaw tightens as I look at each of my teammates who are already here. He thinks the sudden dive in my mood is related to yesterday’s game. Yes, I have thought about it nonstop, but I’ve been doing my best to stay present with Lexi and not fall into the trap of obsessing about every single play. I can do that after she heads home; right now I’m needed here.

Jonah, Miles, and Tristan, three guys from my offensive line, walk past and pat me on the back. They’re laughing, and as much as I want to feel the joy of seeing them happy, I just don’t.

“Chin up, Captain,” Miles says, grinning. “We still won.” He throws his arms out, spinning in a circle, and they walk off laughing.

That’s when the switch officially flips.

Fuel races through my veins, lighting me on fire, and I feel like I’m about to explode.

I came here with Lexi tonight looking forward to spending the evening with her and my friends, only I no longer want to be here. It isn’t about the prospect of a wedding; it’s about me not wanting to hear everyone’s opinions about my life. I’ve been turning a blind eye over the last couple of weeks, I’ve stayed off social media, I’ve rarely turned on the television, and I only leave the house when I have to. I’ve been trying to ignore others’ commentary and accusations about my playing and what might be affecting it, but suddenly it all feels really real and I feel out of my element even here amongst friends.

I mean, what the hell—Jarvie jinx? Stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and I hate that she’s been dragged into this. None of this is her fault. She doesn’t impact the way I play, only I do, but is my team buying into it as well? I’d like to think they are above it, but as the night progresses, I’m starting to believe they aren’t. All anyone wants to talk about is our last couple of games and how things are going to play out in the postseason. They’re all making predictions, and when it comes to me, apparently they aren’t good ones.

Athletes live and breathe by their statistics. Kids memorize them, fans idolize them, and sports analysts salivate over them. For whatever reason, they give people a reason to either love or hate you, and nothing else matters. We are sixteen and oh in the regular season, won every single game, but it feels like all they can seem to focus on are my shortcomings, not the successes.