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Once inside my apartment, I didn't relax like I normally did. There was no extravagant meal or a hot bath. I went straight to my couch and pulled up my notes from the Jets' practice that morning. I had also used the camera on my iPad to take some video and wanted to see what I had for footage.
I hoped focusing on that for a while would ease my worries. Plus, I wanted to send Mr. Peyton some notes sooner rather than later.
I pulled up a video that I knew was of Ty and pressed play. I didn't know what the timing of their plays were so I had started recording way before the quarterback actually threw the ball. That meant the first few minutes was nothing but footage of Ty standing there, talking to the quarterback, and shaking his hands and feet to stay loose.
One part of me wanted to fast forward to the play, the other part of me left my finger hovering the scroll button and never actually doing anything. Ty Black may have been struggling, but he didn't look the part. He had a swagger that appealed to me. Confidence even in his time of defeat.
When he tilted his neck, I could see the veins popping and the tattoos moving as he did. His arms really were that defined and hard all the time. He was tight, even when he was loose. For practice, he had worn shorts and a jersey with his number on it—82. The jersey hugged right above his waistline and I could see the definition of his ass from behind.
I was focusing on all the wrong parts of the video. He had run a play and all I had mentally taken note of was the fact that he was not wearing a cup as he jogged and moved toward the direction of the camera.
With that realization, I threw my iPad over to the side of my couch and stood up. What the hell was wrong with me? My brain was all over the place. One second I was worried and scared. The next I was lusting over a hot football player.
What I really needed to do was let loose for a bit. It had been way too long since I let my hair down and had some fun. I had been so worried about failing in Atlanta that I had not let myself be anyone except the studious ballet instructor with the prodigious background.
I had to get through the week, but I decided by Friday, I would take myself somewhere. I would do something. The thought of having the relief was enough to make me grab my iPad and start looking over videos again.
Only this time, I steered clear of Ty Black videos. I knew he was the one I was supposed to be helping but he had already figured out how calculated I was and it seemed like he made it his mission to make me crack. Even when he wasn’t trying to.
Even when he didn't know he was doing it.
