A Deeper Blue

by S. E. Harmon

  Fine by me. The way the media told it, things were on my head anyway, whether we won or lost. On the next play, I exploded off the line like a shot. It didn’t seem to matter. Tucker was on me like a bad rash every fucking step of the way.

  I finally stopped worrying about the pass. I knew it would be long. I knew it would be beautiful, and all I had to do was make my mark. If I ran the route and did what I was supposed to do, the ball would be there as soon as I opened my hands. Vaughn was just good like that. I needed to trust him and, more importantly, trust myself.

  In the end zone, I pivoted on my heel and snapped in the other direction. At the last second, I reached up and, unbelievably, I still hadn’t managed to shake Tucker. His black gloves came up with my white ones like I’d suddenly become some strange four-handed creature. For a moment things were so tense it felt as though the stadium went completely silent.

  I was almost surprised when I felt the slap of the ball in my gloved hand. I brought it down and had a second of pleasure. Then I braced for impact, and Tucker hit me like a fucking freight train and knocked the breath clean from my body, and we went down together in a pile of limbs.

  Jesus. He was heavy as fuck. The whistle blew, and suddenly I could hear again. The crowd was going crazy—blue and silver pennants and flags and anything else they could wave created a colorful blur. I still couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t panic while I waited for the nausea to pass. I could still feel the comforting weight of the ball in my hand, and we were in the end zone. Everything else was secondary.

  I blinked, and when I saw a gloved hand outstretched, I grabbed it. Tucker hauled me to my feet and knocked our helmets together. Then he trotted off. I appreciated the camaraderie, but fuck, I was pretty sure the bastard finally broke my ribs.

  “Yeah, baby! That’s the way you do that shit.” Warner ran past me with his arms outstretched and did an overexaggerated dab in the end zone.

  Crazy motherfucker.

  They double-teamed me for the rest of the game. I didn’t score again, but the damage was already done. We took the win, 31-25.

  I looked up at the box by rote, even though I couldn’t distinguish anyone up there. I wondered if Kelly was cheering for me, wondered if he realized none of this meant anything if he weren’t. I shook hands and made good sportsmanlike conversation with the other team as we crossed the field, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was too busy wondering if Kelly would ever get tired of being on the circus ride that was my life.

  And what I’d do when he finally decided to get off.

  CHAPTER 15

  Kelly

  THE RIDE home was quiet.

  Blue and I were unfailingly polite to each other, falling all over ourselves not to speak about anything that had happened before the game. I knew he hadn’t meant to practically maul me in the training room and then freak out. He hadn’t meant any of the harsh things he said afterward.

  And it kind of paled in comparison to some of the things I’d said in some of our previous arguments—I had a tongue like a viper when I wanted to. I glanced guiltily at Blue. Compared to me, he was a rank amateur when it came to hurting someone’s feelings. It was something he wasn’t good at and always tried not to do. I knew all that. But I was kind of stuck in that place where you knew you were being a big baby, but you didn’t quite know how to quit.

  We stopped by Applebee’s for dinner and ate in front of the TV, which went a long way to redeeming the evening. Thank God for curbside and cable—they should write that on my tombstone. Around the time I knew Blue would turn the TV to ESPN highlights, I started to gather all our refuse from the coffee table.

  He paused with one finger poised over the remote. “We can watch something else,” he said quietly.

  “No, go ahead. This trash is really bothering me.”

  “It’s my turn. Let me get it.”

  Well, there goes my excuse for leaving the room.

  “Thanks.” I scratched at an itchy patch on my neck. “Maybe I’ll just see if Waffles has to go out before bed.”

  I didn’t wait for acknowledgment. We both knew I was just trying to escape the awkwardness, mostly because I didn’t volunteer to go on walks. It just wasn’t natural, but I grabbed her leash off the side table and made a beeline for the front door.

  I called Waffles as I passed her bed, and she gamely scrambled up to follow. From the beginning she always liked me a little better than Blue on a surface level. I was shorter, smaller, and my voice wasn’t quite as deep. As time passed, I think she grew to love me a little more on a deeper level. I liked to cuddle, gave her table scraps when Blue wasn’t looking, and I didn’t make her exercise. But I was seriously losing some ground with this “let’s go for a walk” business.

  Even as I clipped her D-ring on the retractable leash, I could feel her suspicious gaze on my face. I knew exactly what she was thinking. Papa? Where are we going? The TV and snacks are the other way. I opened the door, stepped out into the muggy night air, and tugged her along after me.

  We headed down the sidewalk, moseying more than walking. When I glanced down at her little fox face, she was looking right back at me, clearly unimpressed. I tried to kick things up into something brisker and more purposeful.

  I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking.

  I was huffing and puffing before we even got three blocks. On block five I realized that maybe my relationship dilemma would reach a more natural conclusion after all. Obviously I was going to die early, and Waffles, my legacy, was going to eat me for sustenance until she was found.

  I dug deep as we turned around and took a circuitous route so Waffles could sniff some new territory. The new circuit took me through some unpaved bumpy sidewalk and past a couple of sketchy houses. When we passed particularly close to the wood-slatted gate of a corner house, we were suddenly treated to a barrage of barking that scared the hell out of me and Waffles both. The barking was rapidly joined by gate shaking as something big threw its body against the rickety supports. We shared a quick dog-human glance of understanding and got the hell out of Dodge. As we ran down the block, I breathlessly promised her we’d never do that again.

  We slowed to a walk on the next block. Waffles shot me a glare every now and again, and I pressed my hand to the definitive stitch in my side. I glared back and realized my version of getting huffy had a good chance of getting us killed.

  It wasn’t like I really had all that much experience being huffy in a relationship. I liked to keep things easy and as low-key as possible. I wasn’t high-maintenance, and I didn’t enjoy the company of people who needed maintaining. But I was in uncharted relationship territory, and I wasn’t sure how to keep our ship from getting stuck on the rocks.

  Guess all the secrecy and hiding was getting to us both. Watching the game in the skybox, my stomach a jumbled mess of nerves, hadn’t make things better. I didn’t know how all the partners and spouses and mothers and fathers could possibly enjoy watching their loved one risking life and limb on the field. For a game.

  I bit my lip guiltily and guided Waffles around a recycling bin that someone had left too far out on the sidewalk.

  Calling it just a game wasn’t fair. Especially when I knew all that went into it—the practice, the conditioning, the learning and memorizing of plays, and even the use of natural athletic ability on the field to make those plays happen. Blue played against the best in the business, and he did it well.

  But any one of those hits could be life changing. Maybe even life ending. Broken body parts, concussions, and paralysis floated through my head in an endless litany. If I closed my eyes, I still could see that hit in the third quarter, the one that really “rang his bell,” as the announcer put it. If that was code for “almost took his head off,” then yes, I agreed.

  I didn’t want to make football into the enemy, but dammit, 99 percent of our problems would be solved if he’d retire. He could come out, and even though there would be backlash, the fervor would die down soon enough. There
would be no crazy NFL schedule controlling our lives, no secrecy about us being together, and above all, no more wondering if his next play would be his last.

  I rounded the final corner, and when my condo came into view, Blue was sitting on the stoop. He was barefoot in a pair of blue-checked pajama pants and a soft, worn black shirt, and when I drew near, he held out a bottle of water. I took it wordlessly and sat next to him, our shoulders barely brushing as we watched Waffles sniff my tiny front yard.

  I turned the bottle round and round in my hands for a minute and wondered if I should even bother to break the silence.

  “Kelly,” he finally said quietly, “what do you want me to do?”

  “I can’t tell you what to do.”

  “I’m asking. I don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy, and I definitely don’t want to be the reason I’m unhappy. So tell me how to fix whatever’s going wrong between us.”

  It was on the edge of my tongue to say “we’re fine,” but I knew that wasn’t fair. I swallowed and forced myself to be uncomfortable with my feelings for a minute and give his request the thought it deserved.

  I finally had to go with “I don’t know,” because I really didn’t. “Things are just a little confusing right now.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  I stared at him for a moment, simultaneously glad we were talking about things and wishing we’d never brought the topic up. “Blue, where do you even see us ten years down the road?”

  “I see us retired,” he said promptly. “I know we’ll still be pretty young, but that’s perfect, isn’t it? Most people would love to retire when they still have the energy to do something with all that time.”

  “What else?”

  “Maybe we’ll keep a residence down here, but we could spend some time at the house my grandparents left me. The one in Oklahoma? I haven’t really done anything with the property except pay people to maintain it.”

  “Blue….”

  “It’s a nice house,” he said hurriedly. “But we could renovate it if you wanted. There’s a lot of beautiful land too. We could have a few horses. More dogs even.”

  “I’m assuming this is when the kids you were talking about come in?”

  “Why not? I thought we could adopt one or two.”

  I hadn’t blinked since he started. I should’ve known that well-organized Blue would have everything all worked out. “I see you’ve thought about this.”

  “Not much.”

  “Blue.”

  “I haven’t.” At my disbelieving snort, he went on. “All right. Sometimes when I’m working with Kai, my mind might wander. Hydrotherapy is hard work, but it’s boring as hell.”

  “What are our kids’ names?”

  Color bloomed in his cheeks. I tried to catch his eye, but he made a dedicated effort not to make eye contact. “Emma and Kelly.”

  “Blue!”

  “It’s just a starting point,” he said, exasperation personified. “Someone has to start thinking about these things.”

  It was a double-edged sword, our situation. If I told him I wanted him to come out, he would. Part of me wanted to get it over with, and part of me wasn’t sure I wanted him to ever come out at all. Just the thought of the media circus sent a shiver down my spine.

  Before we were in a relationship, I thought I knew what Blue’s life was like—how public it was. Turned out I had no fucking idea. There was always someone stopping him out on the street or asking him to sign something. Reporters were in his face and people were in his business, asking him questions about everything from autographs to draft picks for their fantasy-football leagues. Wouldn’t the press just love hearing their all-American hero admit that, in his spare time, he liked to play video games, run, try new healthy recipes, and… oh yeah, fuck his boyfriend?

  I hated all the secrecy, but I loved Blue more. Maybe I didn’t want him to go through all that. Emma and Kelly Jr. faded away like smoke. “I appreciate you thinking about our future, but I don’t know about your plan.”

  “Growing old with you, Kel.” When I glanced over at him, his eyes were steady on mine and so unbelievably blue. “The details may change here and there, but that’s the entire plan.”

  He could tie me up in knots with just a look—one of those intense, “you’re the only one I see” kind of looks that was so vintage Blue. When he added words, especially words like that, I was pretty much a pat of butter in a pair of hot hands.

  I rubbed my thumb across his blushing cheek. It was even sweeter that he was embarrassed. “I don’t know how you do me in with just a few words. If you ever turn into my enemy, I’m gonna be in real trouble.”

  He pulled away, his smile a little tight. I stared at him for a minute, and then I remembered. Right. We were outside on the stoop, and anyone could be watching.

  I let my hand fall.

  “I’m going to take a shower.” I stood and swiped at the dust and dirt that had adhered to the seat of my jeans. Then I did my best to avoid Blue’s searching gaze as I reeled Waffles in with the retractable leash. “You could use one too, dog.”

  I scooped up her up in my arms and gave an overexaggerated groan as she tried to lick my face. She was a little too big for all that carrying nonsense, but she didn’t seem to mind and let me cart her around like a baby when the mood struck me.

  Blue’s hand on my arm stilled me, and for a moment we stared at one another, speaking a multitude of things without ever saying a word. And then he leaned in and kissed me, so softly and sweetly that I kept my eyes closed for a few seconds, even after the kiss was over. It wasn’t a sexual kiss or even a particularly lusty one. It was a kiss of promise, ownership, even.

  I finally opened my eyes, and I could see it written all over his expression. I belong to you and you belong to me, and that’s all that really matters. Waffles broke the moment by taking advantage of my tilted face and licking me again. “Blue?”

  “Yeah?”

  “She’s kind of heavy.”

  “Oh.” He looked down at his hand, which was still restraining me, and let it drop. “I just wanted to kiss you. And if I want to kiss you on my own front stoop, then I will, and I don’t care who’s watching.”

  “There’s only one problem with that,” I said with a sweet smile. “I keep trying to tell you. This isn’t your front stoop, and you don’t actually live here.”

  He laughed at my sass as I brushed past him and headed in the house. “Yeah, but I will,” he called after me. “One of these days.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  I was still amused even as I let in water and put an unamused Waffles in the tub. I avoided her judgmental stare as long as I could. When I kneeled by the tub and started to lather up her fur, I finally had to face her disapproving brown eyes.

  “I’m probably going to cave,” I admitted.

  It was hard for a dog that looked like a drowned rat to pull off a no duh expression, but she managed quite handily. She was probably right. It was just a matter of time.

  CHAPTER 16

  Kelly

  I GLARED at my watch for the sixtieth time in as many minutes as the security line snaking through the airport moved forward an inch. No, a millimeter, maybe. I offered my wrist up for Connor so he could glare at the time too, but he just shook his head at me, clearly amused. Amused. How the bastard held on to amusement in the place where patience came to die was beyond me.

  “We’ll make it,” he said.

  “Sixteen minutes.”

  We had a long flight ahead of us into Detroit, and then we planned to head straight to the rental car office. Then we had an hour-and-a-half drive to Bluebell, where we would check into the Radisson. It wasn’t the most complicated itinerary in the world, but I wanted to be early in case there was a glitch somewhere along the way. I should’ve known the glitch would appear before we even left the damned airport. Connor didn’t seem to share my concerns.

  “Even if we miss the flight, the conference doesn�
�t start until tomorrow,” he said. “You’ll be there in plenty of time to give your nerd speech.”

  “If I wanted to be there tomorrow, I would have booked a flight for when?”

  He pinched his nostrils, as though I were just too annoying to contemplate. “Tomorrow.”

  “Exactly.”

  “We’re not missing it, all right? They’re expediting people on certain flights.”

  Everything that went through my mind was too unpleasant to say. I was pretty sure the words expedite and airport had no business being in the same sentence. I settled on repeating the most critical part of the information. “Sixteen. Minutes.”

  He rolled his eyes and went back to texting.

  I understood the ramped-up security measures at the airport. It was for our protection and all that jazz, but almost missing a flight after arriving at the airport three hours early was a bit much. I kicked my suitcase forward as the line moved another millimeter. As long as I was on something with wings in the next—I checked my watch again—fourteen minutes, I would have no reason to set something on fire.

  After the X-ray scanner and a pat-down that was frankly a little too thorough, we grabbed our stuff and repacked our laptops. When Connor sat to put on his sneakers, I yanked him up by the arm. “No time.”

  Fast-forward to us rushing through the airport, shoes in hand, carry-ons flapping awkwardly against our sides as we ran, and I was pretty much done with travel. I had a new respect for Blue, who traveled all the time during football season and never complained. Although being escorted onto the tarmac by TSA and security as a celebrity athlete was a lot different than being herded like cattle.

  Even with our mad dash for the plane, we barely made it. One other harried-looking guy got on a few seconds after us, and they shut the door while we were still making our way down the aisle.

  “Told you we’d make it,” I huffed to Connor.

  “I must have missed that,” he said dryly.