Dirty Game

I wasn’t a man who lived with regrets. I had forgotten that.

The leaves across the street drifted to the ground. They held deep colors of auburn and scarlet. It was time to let go. Move on. Push forward. The summer was in my past.

32

Sierra

I sat on my couch, crunching ice chips and digging into a bag of chocolate chip cookies. The game was on. I had avoided watching the Thrashers until tonight. They were in DC to play the Sharks. All the commentators said there wasn’t much of a chance they would win. The season had been dismal for the Orlando team.

I was afraid if I saw Blake on that field, I’d melt. Or cry. Maybe both. I didn’t scroll online for his name anymore. I didn’t watch Sports Now. I did everything in my power to avoid the topic of football for over a month. That wasn’t an easy feat living in Texas. I had actually been proud of myself.

Until now.

I had no idea his season had gone so wrong. There was a pit of guilt in my stomach for not finding out until now. He couldn’t be happy about that. He was a champion. He only lost a handful of games when we were in high school. And I remember how hard he took those. It was as if the light in his eyes went out when the scoreboard showed the final score. He didn’t like to lose. He never had.

I held my breath when he jogged toward the line of scrimmage. My heart seized as soon as I saw him. He was tall. Domineering. Powerful in front of all those men. He held himself with a kind of confidence that was undeniably sexy.

I leaned forward involuntarily as if that somehow put me at the game instead of half a country away from him.

The whistle blew and then everything was a blur. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I didn’t hear what the announcers said. All my senses were focused on one thing—Blake.

Somehow four hours passed like that. With my eyes glued to the screen and my heart desperate to cling to any glimpse of him I could. When he took his helmet off on the sideline, I sighed. Sighed loudly enough to shake me out of my stupor.

What was I doing? Drooling after him like some kind of Thrashers groupie?

When I saw him I didn’t feel like a groupie. He wasn’t some unattainable man on the cover of a magazine or in a movie. Blake was my reality. He was always going to be the first boy I’d ever loved. I looked down at the empty bag of cookies. I had stress eaten the entire bag. I would have moved on to a second if I had one.

Blake was no longer that boy I crushed on from high school. I needed to realize he was now the man I loved. And that love had grown over the summer in a way I didn’t know was possible. He had moved into a new place of my heart. A place that had been filled with years of precious memories.

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.