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I hung back while everyone filed off and searched the luggage stack for their bags.
Finally, I joined them on the sidewalk and heaved my travel bag over my shoulder.
“Want to get a jog in?” Jones asked me.
“Nah. I think I’m going to review some Sharks film before practice.”
“Come on. It feels awesome out here. We can run and not even break a sweat in this weather.”
I shook him off. “Maybe later. I think I’m going to change a few of the plays. I’ve got to get that ready before practice.”
He shrugged. “Whatever. I’m running. Don’t let the Shark fans hear this, but I love DC.”
“Yeah, I won’t say anything.”
I headed to my room and locked the hotel door behind me.
The anger was there. It had been there ever since the wedding. Only I couldn’t think about it. I wouldn’t let myself dwell on it. I couldn’t give into it. But Coach had seen it and sensed it. Apparently the whole damn team had. And it was like a dam getting ready to break.
I wanted to unleash the resentment. I needed a place to bury the rage. So far that place had been on the field. I had run the team into the ground. I had barked and yelled. I had cursed in their faces and threatened them. I had come close to knocking a few to the ground.
And why? Because I let Sierra back in? Because for a few weeks out of the summer I stopped being the man I was and let myself be the man I used to be. An island guy with nothing but time on his hands. A guy who loved with his heart and soul. And it blew up in my face.
The instant I let my guard down she did what she had always done. She destroyed me. She ripped through my soul. It wasn’t one thing. It was lash after lash of layers of lies. The baby. My father’s role in our breakup. The inevitable way things were going to end a second time.
I stood at the window. I saw Jones take off on his run.
Coach was right even if I couldn’t say it at the time. Things had to change. I couldn’t carry this anger around. It was killing me and wrecking the team.
I wasn’t a man who lived with regrets. I had forgotten that.
The leaves across the street drifted to the ground. They held deep colors of auburn and scarlet. It was time to let go. Move on. Push forward. The summer was in my past.
32
Sierra
I sat on my couch, crunching ice chips and digging into a bag of chocolate chip cookies. The game was on. I had avoided watching the Thrashers until tonight. They were in DC to play the Sharks. All the commentators said there wasn’t much of a chance they would win. The season had been dismal for the Orlando team.
I was afraid if I saw Blake on that field, I’d melt. Or cry. Maybe both. I didn’t scroll online for his name anymore. I didn’t watch Sports Now. I did everything in my power to avoid the topic of football for over a month. That wasn’t an easy feat living in Texas. I had actually been proud of myself.
Until now.
I had no idea his season had gone so wrong. There was a pit of guilt in my stomach for not finding out until now. He couldn’t be happy about that. He was a champion. He only lost a handful of games when we were in high school. And I remember how hard he took those. It was as if the light in his eyes went out when the scoreboard showed the final score. He didn’t like to lose. He never had.
I held my breath when he jogged toward the line of scrimmage. My heart seized as soon as I saw him. He was tall. Domineering. Powerful in front of all those men. He held himself with a kind of confidence that was undeniably sexy.
I leaned forward involuntarily as if that somehow put me at the game instead of half a country away from him.
The whistle blew and then everything was a blur. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I didn’t hear what the announcers said. All my senses were focused on one thing—Blake.
Somehow four hours passed like that. With my eyes glued to the screen and my heart desperate to cling to any glimpse of him I could. When he took his helmet off on the sideline, I sighed. Sighed loudly enough to shake me out of my stupor.
What was I doing? Drooling after him like some kind of Thrashers groupie?
When I saw him I didn’t feel like a groupie. He wasn’t some unattainable man on the cover of a magazine or in a movie. Blake was my reality. He was always going to be the first boy I’d ever loved. I looked down at the empty bag of cookies. I had stress eaten the entire bag. I would have moved on to a second if I had one.
Blake was no longer that boy I crushed on from high school. I needed to realize he was now the man I loved. And that love had grown over the summer in a way I didn’t know was possible. He had moved into a new place of my heart. A place that had been filled with years of precious memories.
