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Saving me from runaway thoughts, Jasmine takes me by the hand and pulls me from the stands toward the exit. "Comeon, hun. Let's get out of here so you can go home and get ready for your personal celebration tonight." She wiggles her brow. "You know he's coming home to you, so you just focus on getting ready for him." She gives me a ‘you know what I mean’ look as I take one more glance at the field.
The wives have swarmed the turf, along with the fiancées and girlfriends. People are everywhere, showing excitement about the Saints going into the playoffs. It’s only right since they haven’t been in the playoffs in eleven years.
I refuse to go down there and pretend to be an everyday fan, so I take Jasmine's advice. "Let’s get out of here. I gotta get through this traffic and get ready for a long night.”
I sincerely hope my mood changes, and I can enjoy this time with Wayne without getting into my feelings about our relationship status. Two years ago, he asked me to be his fiancée, so this should be a passion-filled night, celebrating our engagement anniversary and his big win.
Wayne isn't a bad guy. He's not a player or anything of the sort. He has a good reason to believe other people knowing about our relationship will ruin us.
His older brother lost the love of his life from being in the celebrity spotlight. He didn't lose Alexandria because she quit him or left town. She lost her life in a car wreck after hearing a cheating rumor from several gossip blogs. She left their house emotionally devastated. Her car was struck when she mistakenly ran a red light.
Eddie blames her wreck on the lies she read in the blogs. He says he never saw anyone so distraught in his life. He’s haunted by her final moments. Eddie says that remembering the look in her eyes on that fateful day still brings him to tears. What haunts him the most is finding out she was six weeks pregnant at the time of her death.
Eddie has been a shell of himself since that day. His repeated advice to Wayne is to keep his relationship in the dark. He drills into his brother that he could lose everything if other people find out how much he loves me. He feels they will start making up stories and meddling in our love life in a way that will destroy the wholesome love we share.
Therefore, Wayne’s mission is to spoil me beyond belief while keeping me out of the media. What he doesn't know is that being his secret is killing me. It's as if he's a single man living his life and coming home to pretend to be my fiancé at night.
Since becoming the starting quarterback this season, he has received more media speculation about every part of his life. Sometimes, it's hard to tell what's real and what's not.
The media ruined his brother's life by getting inside his wife’s head, but I'm stronger than Alexandria. I would never believe anything I hear from another person about Wayne without giving him a chance to explain it. I understand how Alexandria could accept some of these bloggers’ stories; they make their lies sound so real. But I know Wayne is a faithful man. I simply want to be claimed by him publicly. An occasional date and a little PDA wouldn’t hurt either.
I tried to be what he wanted me to be—unseen and unheard in public. Since we got engaged, I thought I was okay with his decision. But today, more than ever before, I know that's not the truth. I see no way forward with his current plan.
Deep in thought, I realize I haven’t said more than two words to Jasmine on the drive to her house. When we pull up to her apartment, she leans across the seat and gives me an air kiss.
“Enjoy your night, Les. I had fun.”
I return the air kiss. “Call me tomorrow, sis.”
I head home after watching my sister enter her apartment. I turn the radio to a local station to enjoy some music and relieve my mind of nagging thoughts. Host Jenny Jo’s voicecomes in after a Tank jam, and she starts discussing the Saint’s unexpected win.
“Many people thought the second-string quarterback couldn’t take us to the playoffs, but here we are; we’re headed there, and it’s all because of Wayne Richards, who stepped up and filled shoes no one thought he would be able to fill,” Jenny Jo says.
“Have you seen his feet? Girl, I knew he would be able to fill anyone’s shoes that he wanted to fill. He’d probably burst out of them because those feet are huge,” inserted Jazzy Jack, the comedic relief co-host.
“I hear ya’ on that one,” Jenny Joe declares. “If someone doesn’t snatch him up soon, I’m going to have to come out of retirement and put his fine tail on my team. And you know I will have him filling more than shoes, right?”
“Oui, girl, I know how you get down.” Jazzy Jack laughs. “But girl, he’s probably a mama’s boy. She wasn’t at the game tonight, but usually, she’s the only person that he’s looking for after the game.”
“Oh, I have ways to make him forget his mama, but we’re not going to go there tonight. Wayne, if you’re listening, call me!” Jenny Jo says dramatically, then segways into Drake's latest hit.
I love a good Drake track as much as the next person, but after hearing the hosts’ commentary about my man, I’m over it all. I turn off the radio and let out a huff. I’m sick of the disrespect from people who don’t even know they’re disrespecting me because Wayne refuses to let them know I exist. No one knows I’m his woman.
I pull into our driveway and notice blue and yellow balloons tied to the front door. This is just like him. He’s thoughtful, and that can’t be denied. Wayne most likely has instructed his assistant to prepare the house for a postgamecelebration for two after his win. I don’t feel like dealing with surprises as I prepare to give him a piece of my mind. Playoffs or no playoffs, we’re talking about this tonight.
Chapter Two
WAYNE
We Killed It
“Yah! We killed it. Playoffs, here we come, baby!” I’m so fucking pumped when the coach leaves the locker room after our postgame talk. I’m proud of my team. We were unstoppable out there tonight.
“I told you we would get there, didn’t I?” Rich yells as he tosses his helmet into his locker. “You didn’t believe me when I said we would make it to the playoffs.”
I shake my head. “Nah, I knew we could make it. I just didn’t know which strategy would take us there.”
Rich takes off his cleats. “You said we could make it, but you didn’t say that shit with your chest, man. You didn’t realize that you were the strategy, and it sounds like you still don’t realize it now. You’re one hell of a QB, Wayne. I told the coach long ago that the bench was where the magic was.”
