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After halftime, I can only assume he read my messages because he does better. The other team is up by one touchdown, but Jeremiah catches one of Wayne’s sixty-yard passes and dances in the endzone.
Game tied and with twenty seconds on the clock, an interception is needed and delivered when Mark picks a pass from San Francisco’s star receiver and drops to the ground with the ball securely in his hands.
The turnover gives Wayne twelve seconds and good positioning to put another touchdown on the board that will provide the Saints with the win. It’s like an early Christmas gift when he finds his go-to receiver in position. With five seconds, he launches the twenty-yard pass to Jeremiah Johnson, who catches it and runs it into the endzone.
What I wouldn't give to be a Saint's supporter going crazy in the stadium. The visiting fans there are losing it, cheering on another Saints win. I fling the Saints comforter off me and spring out of bed, jumping up and down and screaming. “Yasss, baby! Congratulations Wayne. You did it! Baby, you did it!”
This game helps me understand the importance of not letting my feelings get in the way of showing my support to Wayne. Though I told him I would be there in spirit, I would be at every game in the flesh going forward.
My thoughts freeze when I hear his voice on TV. He's speaking with a sports interviewer on the field. I turn up the volume and listen intently.
Mallory Hays, a reporter known for asking tough questions, runs her finger along her ear to tuck her loose brown tendrils and starts her post-game drill. "Tonight's game brings you closer to entry into the Super Bowl, so I'm just going to jump right in and ask the question all of America wants to know. Are you ready for your next big playoff game?"
Wayne looks confident, shoulders squared and staring eye-to-eye with Mallory. "Of course, I'm ready. I was born for this moment."
Mallory raises a questioning brow with her retort, "From the looks of the first half, I'd say you need some work. You didn't look like yourself out there tonight. Are you sure you're ready for what's to come?"
Wayne gives the reporter's comments some thought. "You’re right. My head wasn’t 100% in the game during the first half, but I’ll be ready for the next game. I’ll do everything possible to put more points on the board against Los Angeles. Our fans can rest assured that we’ll be ready for them.”
“Go back a bit because you said something interesting. You said your head wasn’t in the game during the first half. That usually means woman problems. Does the bachelor of the NFL have woman problems?” Mallory leans forward, expecting his usual non-committal answer.
Wayne gives her an irritated look as if he’s about to tell her to stay out of his personal business. But instead of doing that, he turns his attention to the camera with intense brown eyes that permeate the TV screen. Surprisingly, he admits, “Actually, Mallory, I do have woman problems. My lady is upset with me right now, and it threw me off my game a bit. Though I was able to recover and get the win, I realized tonight that it’s hard for me to focus and even harder to win without her here with me. But I’m going to fix that, and we will continue to get W’s all the way to the Superbowl, just with much more ease.”
My eyes are wide with shock. I can’t believe it. Wayne Richards just acknowledged being in a relationship on national TV. Who has possessed my fiancée?
Mallory’s ears perk up as a mischievous grin spreads to each corner of her oval ivory face. She tries to shift the conversation to hear more about Wayne's woman. “So, will I be doing a post-game interview with you next week with your woman by your side?” she probes.
Wayne shrugs, offering her an unreadable expression. “Time will tell,” he says, unwilling to be tied down to an absolute answer. He looks at the camera and gives me a salute. “Love you, baby.”
I shouldn’t be this damn excited over Wayne's vague acknowledgment of me being his woman. Shenanigans like this, where a man says he has a woman without acknowledging who the woman actually is, have allowed men to have multiple women thinking he’s speaking of them. Some men can go on for years like this before their harem discovers what’s happening.
It doesn’t matter. I know Wayne isn’t like that. I’m cheesing like I just won the lottery. It feels like Wayne has taken the first step in Love Anonymous. He has acknowledged that he has a woman. The next step is for him to admit that our love’s power is greater than both of us and that we can’t keep confining it to his home.
As he wraps up his interview with Mallory, telling her his predictions for the game against Los Angeles, my phone starts ringing nonstop.
I pick up, and it’s Jasmine screaming in glee. “Did you hear him?”
I’m smiling so hard that my face hurts. “I heard him, and I still am in shock. Someone must have taken over Wayne’s body.”
“Do you think he’s done keeping your relationship a secret?” she asks.
“I don’t know. But it’s a start.”
“That man has been away from home for a week. You’ve been curving him, and he knows you’re not with the secrecy anymore. He’s about to tell everybody everything.” Jasmine laughs. “The question now is, are you ready to be in the spotlight?”
I wanted it to happen, but I never really thought about what it would mean to be outed. How will I deal with the celebrity status that comes along with people knowing I’m his fiancée?
“Honestly, Jasmine. I don’t know, but I guess I will find out soon.”
Chapter Twelve
LESLIE
I Love It Here
I'm in limbo between dreamland and awareness when something warm and wet tickles my leg. My hands don't swat at it to make it stop. I don't move as it stealthily trails from my ankles to my hips and glides to the crevice of my thighs. When the warmth and wetness reach the apex of my womanhood, it turns into gushes of warm air like my core is being inhaled. The distinct sound of inhalations near my panty line has me on fire. Moisture pools between my thighs in anticipation of what will happen next.
Time stands still as I clamp my thighs to hold onto the imaginary pleasure wielder. The feel-good sensation zinging through my body makes me feel alive. I haven’t felt this way since the last time Wayne and I made love.
