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“I know.” It will be more. More press. More pressure.
But we’ll weather it. We still can’t keep our hands off each other. Do we fight sometimes? Of course. Drew has his dark days, and I have mine. I barely saw him when I began to intern at a cable production company on a whim. I’m now an associate producer for a cooking show. It’s something I’d never envisioned for myself but love with a passion.
Our stress levels rose to a pitch during the days before the draft. Would he go quickly like some thought? Or languish in the third, fourth, or fifth rounds as Drew secretly feared? When he was the fourth pick in the first round—to New York, thank God—we celebrated for an entire week.
But it full-out sucked living in New York City those first few months before his draft. Because I refused to let Drew dip too far into his savings, we could only afford a walkup in the Lower East Side. I can’t even think about the number of roaches Drew smashed without shuddering. We both cried a little in relief when we finally bought our apartment in Chelsea. But the dark days are few. We have more fun than anything else.
He’s my best friend, and I’m his.
I clap my hands, and the ring on my finger catches the light with a glint. It’s a brilliant round diamond surrounded by a ring of black emerald-cut diamonds on a platinum band. Drew gave it to me last month, asking me to be his forever. And it’s perfect.
But I don’t really need a ring. I just need Drew. The moment he asked me the question, the only answer I wanted to give was yes and how soon?
At first my mom was worried. We were too young. Did I know the divorce rate for pro athletes? The constant travel and temptation Drew will deal with?
Yeah, I know. And yet I will never treat Drew as a stereotype again. Taking Drew means taking the good, the bad, and the in-between. Just as he takes me.
After the game, when I finally get to him, I fling myself into his arms, and he holds me tight before spinning me around, the high of kicking ass infectious. Our kiss is messy, broken up by giddy laughter—mostly mine.
“I’m so proud of you,” I tell him when he puts me down. “You were awesome.” Already there is talk. And I know his team is going to make him starting quarterback now.
Drew’s grin lights up his face. His touch is tender on my cheek, and then he tells me what I know is his absolute truth, because it’s mine too. “It means nothing without you.”
