Once again I was responsible for where we were. If I had only said yes to him, I’d be the one greeting him on the field. I’d be the one in his arms. I’d be the one sharing his bed tonight.
I buried my face in my hands as the sobs wracked my body. What had I done? I’d never felt more alone in my life than I did at this moment.
I was homesick for the island. I missed Aunt Lindy and the comforts of the house I grew up in. I missed the smell of salt hitting my nose in the mornings. I missed the cruises to the Dock House and the music Blake liked to play.
It all felt so overwhelming. How did I leave that behind for a second time?
One of the sideline reporters rushed toward Blake and shoved a microphone in his face. The camera caught the steam from his sweaty forehead and the frost in the air when he spoke.
“Blake, congratulations on your win,” she shouted.
“Thanks, Mindy. Pretty happy about the team right now.” He grinned. I felt my core seize. God, I missed that smile.
“What did it take to bring your guys back from a first half deficit? You were down by two touchdowns coming back in the third quarter. What did you say to them in the locker room?”
Blake rubbed the back of his neck. I sighed just at the sound of his voice. “I looked around and saw a lot of long faces. But I believe in this team and that’s what I told them. We just needed to believe in each other and get the hard work done on the field.”
Mindy touched the side of Blake’s arm and I felt a ripple of jealous surface. “The Sharks brought their defense tonight. How are you feeling? You took a few big hits out there.”
He nodded
. “Nothing a little rest won’t work out. Thanks so much, Mindy.”
He stepped around her before she could draw him back in for another question. I watched him disappear into another throng of reporters and my heart sank. I wanted another glimpse of him. I wanted to hear his voice again.
I reached for my phone. I wanted to call him and tell him I saw his big win. I wanted him to know I watched every second of it and I was rooting for him. Did that matter to him? Would it count? Did he even care?
I hesitated. I held the phone in my palm before I lowered it to the coffee table. I had ruined our chance. It didn’t matter that I would walk out of the station tomorrow and never look back if only he would ask me again.
Again wasn’t ever going to happen. I curled on the couch and cried myself to sleep.
33
Blake
I stared into the pint of beer on the bar. Jones slapped me on the back.
“We fucking won, man. We actually won in DC.”
I nodded, chugging in the process. “We did.”
“You should have gone on that run with me. I think it did something. There’s something in the air here.”
I laughed. Jones was drunk. He sounded poetic.
“It was a hell of a game.” One of the lineman plopped down next to me.
“Thanks for covering my ass.” I tipped my stein toward him.
It looked like most of the team had poured in here after the game. The bar was across the street from the hotel. There were bound to be Sharks fans in the area. DC was crawling with them. The fans were loyal and diehard. They weren’t a new franchise like the Thrashers. I bet some had watched the game from this very barstool, but they had most likely gone home to lick their wounds by now.
“Anytime.” He grinned a big goofy smile. “Feels like it was different team tonight.”
“Yeah it was.” A lot had registered with me tonight. The way we had come together in the second half. The victory meant more than just a W to these guys. It felt like a turning point.
I felt a soft hand glide over my shoulder and rest on my bicep.
“Hi.”