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“No problem .”
I knew how he felt. I remembered what it was like when everyone around you had the plays memorized and you were still trying to get to know the names of a hundred different guys and staff members. He was in a new city with a new job. There were a lot of adjustments to make. But he seemed to be the kind of guy who was handling it in stride. Maybe better than I had .
I needed to get home, shower, and study the game notes for tomorrow. I hopped behind the wheel and steered toward my apartment .
* * *
I turned the shower off and grabbed the towel on the closest rack, wrapping it around my waist. I heard my phone buzz .
Holy fuck .
It was a picture of Natalia. She was standing on one toe, pulling her leg behind her so it was almost touching her head. She made a perfect circle using her leg and her back. I knew she was flexible, but this was fucking insane .
I texted her back .
I thought you said there were no cameras in there .
I waited for her response .
I set the timer just for you .
I laughed out loud. I adjusted the towel so it rested on the lowest part of my hip and took a shot of my profile and sent it to her. That should do the trick. I was dripping wet .
J’ai envie de toi .
I leaned my head against the glass wall. She was killing me. The dirty French talk. Her body. All of it. I wanted her. I didn’t need to wait until after the game to have the follow up discussion. If I had to wait a few more weeks, maybe it was worth it .
I turned off the bathroom light and wrote back to her .
I want you too .
Good night, Sam .
Good night .
I plugged my phone into the charger next to my bed and pulled back the sheets. I set my alarm. I had a game day ritual at home that started with a big breakfast and a quick jog in the park. It helped me relax .
I watched a few minutes of Sports Now before I fell asleep .
The next morning, I jumped up from bed before my alarm went off. What in the hell was that? I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. I knew it was a dream, or a nightmare. But it had felt fucking real. I had bolted awake with fear coursing through me .
I had been holding Natalia. We were talking about the lake or something and I rolled away from her, and when I rolled back she was gone. Instead, Maddie was there. Fuck. I ran my fingers through my hair .
Why was I dreaming about Maddie? Ever since she called when I was at Natalia’s apartment I had done everything to forget the conversation. She said she needed money. Todd had kicked her out and she didn’t know where to go. Fuck that. I wasn’t giving her a dime of what I earned .
She didn’t deserve to be in dreams. She didn’t deserve to speak to me or see me. I didn’t think about her anymore. I didn’t have a single picture of her in my apartment. When we graduated, I got rid of everything that was hers. She had put me through the emotional wringer. I took another deep breath. This wasn’t how I wanted to start my Sunday .
I put on a pair of shorts and shuffled to the kitchen. I couldn’t let something stupid like a dream interfere with the game-day routine. I had a big breakfast to cook .
* * *
I arrived at the stadium earlier than usual. I was off all day. I had been since that nightmare forced me awake. I couldn’t shake it. I thought about calling Natalia, but what was I going to say? Yeah, I’m fucking freaked out about a dream I had where my ex replaced you. That wouldn’t go over well in any scenario. She was understanding, but that would be pushing it. I had already made the decision not to tell her she had called me when I was in Austin. I wasn’t going to bring it up now .
I threw my bag on top of my cubby and sat on the bench. As usual, the equipment guys had laid everything out for me and the rest of the team. All I had to do was suit up for the game. But sitting here, staring at my name, I wasn’t sure if my head was in the game. I pressed my palms to my forehead .
I needed a few minutes to get my shit together, because once I took the field everyone in the stadium counted on me. Wes counted on me. Coach counted on me. But right now, I wasn’t sure I could count on myself .
Twenty-Six
