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I hated watching her pack her shit and move out of my house, but her brother arrives in town today, and we’re trying to play it cool in front of him.
She asked me the one time if I’m ready to tell him, and I shrugged. I played it off.
The truth is that I probably should tell him, but I’m just not ready to. It’s easy to ignore the reality of the situation when he’s all the way on the other side of the country. It’s a little harder when he’s staying with me.
And so I’ll tell him when I’m ready to put a ring on her finger, and likely not a moment sooner.
She’s back at her place, which sucks. She makes this house feel like a home, and for the next four days, I’m going to have to sleep without her in my arms.
Unless I can sneak her in. Maybe I can sneak her in…
I have one last day of mandatory minicamp, and our position coaches put us through the fucking ringer yesterday, so I’m having a hard time mustering up the right words to tell her how much I miss her already.
She doesn’t know Grayson in season, and sometimes the pain gets to me. It’s a harsh reality that she might not be expecting, but as the season gets underway, it’s not like it gets easier for me to get out on that field every week.
So why do I continue to play if that’s how I feel?
Because I fucking love the game. It’s the best game in the world, and it’s been my life’s honor to be a competitor in it. Maybe this will be my last year, and I’m giving it my all just in case it is. I’m leaving every last bit of myself out on that field, practice or not.
And it’s not just that.
I’m not ready to give it up because I don’t have a plan. I don’t know what comes next.
We have a max of twenty-four practice hours for the week, so today will be lighter than the first two days were. But I’m sore as fuck after those first two days as I prove I’m the cornerback the Aces need.
It’s going to be a long season, and so far, Ava has been nothing short of incredible as she caresses me with her light touch, feathers kisses along my skin, and works the knots out of my back and shoulders.
It’s like she knows exactly what to do, and having her here when I get home after a hard day of practice is somehow the exact medicine I need.
I haven’t told her that yet. I should, but time seems to have slipped away from me before I could form the words, and now I’m on my way to the Complex and she’s on her way to the bakery, and her brother gets here in a few hours.
I gave him the code to get into my house. I didn’t know what else to do. Having Ava there felt too personal, like he’d be able to read into it and see what’s going on.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take her to the charity ball this weekend and act like I haven’t fallen head over ass for her.
The day drags, especially when it comes to the position meetings toward the end, and I’m itching to get home to see my guests—and my guest’s sister. I’m not sure if she headed over there after work to see her family or not, but I’m interested to see her interact with her brother after all this time. And, of course, after I’ve gotten to know her the way I have.
I think after all these years, I might actually be closer to Ava than I am to Beckett.
He’s still my best friend. We have a history together. But he’s also the kind of friend who will be there in a month or a year. We don’t have to talk every day to know our friendship remains strong and healthy.
Ava, on the other hand…I don’t want to miss a day with her. I don’t want to wait a month or a year to talk to her. Hell, I don’t even want to wait an hour to talk to her.
I know that’s not feasible, but I like her. I like spending time with her. I like laughing with her. I like fucking her.
I like my life with her in it.
It’s a strong realization to have as I head home to meet her brother and his family as we continue this sham that’s purely for his benefit.
Her little red Versa isn’t there in my garage where it has nestled in its own space for the last month. Instead, a rental luxury sedan sits in my driveway.
That means her brother is here, and she is not.
I text her when I pull into the garage before I head into the house.
Me: Home from practice. Your brother is here. Are you coming over?
I don’t wait for a reply. Instead, I head inside to greet my guests.
