by Lea Coll
Happiness surged through me that not only had she watched, she’d cheered me on. I told you I play better when you watch.
Dylan: You have millions of fans. Surely, one more doesn’t make a difference.
It does. I wondered what she was doing. If she was in bed. We were a couple hours ahead of her in Seattle, so it must have been ten p.m. at home.
Reid: Can I call you?
The response came and went with the appearing, disappearing bubbles before she finally said, Yes.
Dialing her number for a video call, I hoped she’d accept. I needed to see her.
“Hey,” she answered with a happy smile on her face, her hair up in a messy bun, her face devoid of makeup. Cocking her head, she asked, “Video call, huh? I pegged you as a text only guy.”
She wore a barely there tank. I was distracted wondering whether she wore a bra under it. “Why is that?”
She chewed her lip as if she was thinking of an answer. “Most people are these days.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I’m getting that. You’re not a stereotypical football player, you care about the kids. What else don’t I know about you Reid Everson?” Her lips tipped up into a smile.
I loved when she said my full name. It rolled off her lips, almost always accompanied a smirk, as if she knew everything there was to know about me and she liked it. “Not much to tell. Single mom. I check in with my family often.”
“What about Callie?” Her tone was softer.
Was Dylan asking because she thought we’d dated at some point? Was she jealous? “What about Callie?”
“You’re close to her.”
“We haven’t dated.”
“She told me the same thing.”
“She’s like a sibling. Callie’s mom and dad died when she was in high school.”
“That’s sad. I’m sorry. She’s lucky to have you looking out for her.” Dylan’s voice was filled with sympathy.
I wanted to mention that she went to live with her grandfather, Frank, but it was too many r’s. I wanted to tell her about him even though I’d never told anyone about my relationship with him. I’m sure Frank told Callie I visited even though she never mentioned it.
“This is going to sound crazy—” She bit her lip as if she was uncertain whether she should finish her sentence.
“What?” My cock twitched in my pants when she shifted. I saw her nipple through her tank top.
“I missed you.”
I missed you. I don’t think I’d ever heard a better combination of words. Her blue eyes darkened.
“I missed you too.”
“Thursday night was so amazing.” Her tone was wistful.
“I’d like to see you again.” I liked seeing her in a casual setting, like she was now, soft and relaxed.
“I would too.”
Hope surged through me that she was real, she wasn’t out for something, she wanted me. “Maybe we could toss a football.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them.
“Okay. Did you want to meet at a park? I can pack some casual clothes when I come into the city or would you prefer the weekend?”
“Monday’s my light day. I join Quinton at his speech lesson, then I’m available.”
“That works.”
“I’ll handle the details.” I’d thought of an idea while I was warming up today for the game. I was excited to share something that was important to me.
“Sounds good.” Then she yawned, tipped her head back. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how tired I was.”
“Go to sleep, Dylan.” Tenderness for her wrapped around my heart. I wished I was with her, that we were at the point where I could cuddle up in bed with her.
“’Kay. Night.” She smiled before sinking down under her covers. With one last wink, she hung up.
I wanted to pull my cock out of my pants, fisting it. The only thing holding me back was that Jonah could walk in at any moment.
This thing with Dylan made me feel like I was in high school, excited to talk on the phone with my first crush. I wanted to give in to the feeling, enjoy every moment.
I pushed any negative thoughts out of my head like I did when I was preparing for a game. I visualized us together, kissing in front of her car, holding her by the water, watching the boats going by, listening to the sounds of the water lapping on the dock. I wanted to hold on to those moments. Each one more perfect than the last. When we were together, it felt right. I wanted it to stay that way.
We landed at Baltimore’s airport after lunch on Monday. I rode the team bus into the city, driving my car back to my condo to unpack. I showered so I didn’t smell like an airplane. I was eager to see Dylan. It had been a long five days.
I’d thought about Quinton on the plane, trying to come up with ways to motivate him. I saw myself in him. I wanted better for him than I had. I didn’t want him living in fear of people finding out or making fun of him. I wanted him to be proud of who he was, never afraid to speak.
I stopped in the elementary school’s office to get a visitor pass before walking to the cafeteria where the program was held after school. Anticipation hummed in my veins to see Dylan.
I paused in the doorway to the cafeteria. Quinton stood uncertainly in front of his therapist. I walked toward him, hunching down next to him, lowering my voice so Mrs. Sweeney wouldn’t hear my r, “Hey, buddy. Sorry I was a little late. We flew in today.”
He turned to me, a smile on his face. “You play football. I saw your game.”
“Yeah.”
“I saw your touchdown. It was so awesome. You plowed over those guys.” Quinton felt more comfortable with me each time I saw him. I wondered if talking about football made talking easier.
Dylan came to stand next to Mrs. Sweeney, in a silky button down top tucked into a tight skirt, heels accentuating her toned legs. Dylan’s lips twitching into a smile.
Happy to see her, I wanted to reach over to kiss her. I wished we were alone. That I could show her how much I’d missed her over the weekend.
“Quinton, congratulate Mr. Everson on his win then let’s get to work,” Mrs. Sweeney said.
I pulled out a chair for Quinton.
“I’ll let you get to it.” Dylan walked away.
I wanted to watch her go. Instead, I kept my gaze on Quinton. I wanted him to know he was important to me. He was my priority when I was here.
I listened to their back and forth, prodding Quinton when he seemed scared to speak. When Mrs. Sweeney said we should take a break, I asked if it was okay if we tossed a football around for a few minutes out back. There was a door from the cafeteria to what looked like a playground. A bin of balls by the door, presumably for when the kids went out for recess. She said it was fine if Dylan agreed.
I stood. “Get a coat. Let’s see if we can go outside.”
Dylan sat at a long table, her fingers tapping on the keys.
I leaned over, bracing one hand on the back of her chair, one on the table in front of her.
“Do you mind if I take Quinton outside to play? He could use a minute.”
Dylan blinked up at me. “Sure.”
I winked at her, my eyes dropping to her lips which parted in surprise. Then I stood, placing a hand on Quinton’s shoulder to head outside.
Knowing I could speak freely in front of Quinton, I relaxed. I grabbed a basketball from the bin, handing it to Quinton, then dug around for a football. “Can you believe this? There’s one football.”
I tested it in my hands, throwing it from one to the other before tossing it in the air. It was really beat up. I’d need to buy some balls and leave them the next time I came.
I pushed open the door, the fall sun warming us as we stepped outside. “Basketball or football?”
Quinton smiled. “Basketball.”
“You’re killing me, kid. Alright, let’s play basketball.” I threw the football off to the side, walking toward the net. Quinton dribbled the ball,
squaring up for a shot.
I hadn’t played basketball in a long time but I knew the basics. I watched his teeth bite his lower lip as he focused.
The ball hit the rim bouncing wide. I grabbed the rebound tossing it lightly to him. “Great job. This time don’t be afraid to jump. You’ll get more power from your legs.”
Quinton nodded, his face one of concentration. He shot for a few minutes while I ran around the court grabbing the rebounds. When his last one swished through the net, I walked the rebound to him.
“Great job, buddy. That was awesome.” He held his hands out for the ball.
I kept it tucked on my hip. “I’m going to tell you a secret.”
He looked up at me with a solemn expression. “Okay.”
“When I prepare for a game, I visualize catching the ball, weaving through coverage, running for a touchdown.” I gestured with my hands, realizing the jargon was probably over his head.
“You do?” He cocked his head as if trying to figure out if I was telling him the truth.
“It sounds silly but it really helps. It’s like saying to yourself…” I tried to think of something that would motivate him when he was playing sports or worried about saying a letter wrong. "I’m brave. I’m strong. I can do it. If you say you can’t, you won’t. It’s that simple.”
His eyes widened as if he wasn’t sure if he could believe me.
“You’re brave. You’re strong. You can do it.” I lowered my voice, emphasizing each word.
“You ready to head back inside?”
Quinton’s face filled with determination as he nodded.
When we approached Mrs. Sweeney’s table, she asked, “Are we ready to continue?”
“Absolutely.”
Quinton seemed to pull himself together, turning to Mrs. Sweeney. “I’m ready.”
The rest of the session went smoothly. When he was finished, I told him I’d see him next week. While I waited for Dylan to change so we could head out for our date, I leaned against the wall, scrolling through my phone.
“Are you ready to go?” Dylan asked.
I looked up, tucking my phone into my pocket. She wore black leggings that clung to her legs like a second skin, a purple Baltimore T-shirt peeking out of a light-colored jean jacket. She looked adorable. I wanted to ask her if she’d bought the shirt because of me.
The thought made my fingers tingle with the need to pull her close to me.
“You look good.” It was an understatement when I was picturing her like this all the time. Casual in my condo, wearing nothing but my jersey in bed. I swallowed hard, trying to erase that image since we were standing in the hallway of an elementary school.
“I wasn’t sure what to wear for our football date.”
“This works for what I have planned.” I’d thrown a team hoodie in my SUV in case she got cold. I kind of hoped she would so I could offer it to her. Maybe she’d even steal it, adopting it as her own. The image of her in nothing but my hoodie popped into my head.
“You buy the hoodie—?”
She flushed. “After we met.”
“I would have gotten you one if you’d asked.” Something twinged in my heart that she wanted to buy my team shirt. She was proud of the team and hopefully of me.
We walked side by side, not touching on the way out. I held the door open for her, my gaze dropping to her ass when she passed in front of me.
“What did you say to him?” She stopped on the sidewalk in front of the school.
“Say to who?” My mind was still on the way her ass was outlined in her pants. I nearly groaned. Was she wearing a thong or nothing at all?
“Mrs. Sweeney said Quinton did amazing during the second half of his session. She wondered if you’d said something to him.”
“I think that’s between me and Quinton, don’t you?” I teased, falling in step next to her.
“I’d love to know what you said that helped.”
“I told him I visualize the play before it happens. I told him to say—” I paused, practicing in my head before I continued, ‘I’m brave. I’m strong. I can do it.’”
I hadn’t realized how cheesy it would sound to an adult as opposed to saying it to a seven-year-old. I was just happy the words came out mostly right. I held open my SUV door for her, hoping she wouldn’t make fun of me.
Her eyes shined with admiration before she climbed into my SUV. “Wow.”
I closed the door, rounding the hood to get in the driver’s seat.
“I’m impressed. You’re great with him. You have experience you can pass on. Hadley was right. The work ethic and determination it takes to play sports translates into tackling these kids’ speech issues.”
Pride filled my chest at her words. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“I know I said this before but thank you for taking an interest in Quinton. Mrs. Sweeney said it’s making a huge difference. She’s had other kids like him who refuse to participate. Obviously, they don’t get anything out of it.”
“I’m enjoying it too. I’m happy you pushed me.”
She smiled. “I like to think of it as encouragement.”
We laughed.
“Where are you taking me?”
I knew she was wondering which city park I’d take her to at dusk. None of them were safe. It was a surprise but I didn’t want to press my luck with another r word. “I don’t want to tell you just yet.”
“Oh, a surprise. I like that.”
I turned the ignition, pulling away from the curb into traffic. I wanted to take her to my happy place, maybe impress her in the process. We crossed town, pulling into the stadium lot.
“The stadium? Are we going inside? I’m getting a tour?”
I smiled, every muscle in my body vibrating. “Is that okay?”
“That’s more than okay.” She pulled open her door, stepping down before I could get out.
I grabbed my duffel bag, slinging it over my shoulder before meeting her on the sidewalk.
I held my hand out to her, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
When her fingers interlaced with mine, I felt like a high school kid walking down the hall holding his girl’s hand for the first time.
“This is so cool. I can’t believe I’m going to get to see the stadium.”
“Not just the stadium, the field. You’ll get the full effect.” There was a lightness in my chest. I loved that she was excited as I was.
I led her through the player’s entrance, nodding at security before heading through the tunnel onto the field.
We paused at the entrance. The lights were on as I’d requested. No one was in sight.
“This is amazing. There’s no words.” She stepped a few feet onto the field, turning in a slow circle, with her arms out. “It’s huge.”
Her head was tipped back, her eyes closed. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, never letting go.
Instead, I dug the football out of my bag. “Do you want to play?”
She opened her eyes. “I’m warning you, I’m no football player.”
I threw the ball in the air, getting a feel for it. “Did you play anything in high school?”
“Softball.”
“You’ll be fine then.”
“Am I supposed to run for it, yell go long or something?” She teased.
I chuckled. “No. We can toss it.”
“Oh, okay.”
She actually looked disappointed. I wouldn’t mind throwing the ball long to watch her run for it. Was she competitive? Would she go all out, diving or jumping to catch it?
I lobbed the ball to her. She caught it, a triumphant smile on her face. When she threw it back, it wobbled before falling short. “Let me show you.”
I picked up the ball, jogging over to her. I placed my fingertips on the white laces, showing her how to hold it. “This is the way to hold the ball. I know it’s difficult because—"
“My hands are tiny compared to yours?” She chewed her lip, her eyes clear w
ith determination.
I swallowed hard, an image of my hands gripping her hips to pull her onto me or her ass while drilling into her from behind. I pushed the dirty thoughts out of my head, focusing on her.
“You want to do it again?”
“Yes.” She nodded seriously.
I was thinking about getting her naked. She wanted to learn how to throw a football. Handing her the ball, I stepped behind her so I could guide her. I moved closer than I needed to, wanting to feel her heat.
Her hair tickled my chin as I leaned down to cover her hand on the ball with mine. “Just like this.”
“Okay.” Her voice was soft, her breath hitched as if she was as affected as I was.
“Now you do it.” I stepped back, crossing my arms over my chest.
She drew the ball back before letting go.
“Good. Now with some muscle behind it.” I ran to get the ball, bringing it back to her.
She placed a hand on her hip, giving me a sassy look. “Really? Muscle?”
“Let’s see it, Gannon.”
I stood across from her, giving pointers, until she threw the ball in a tight spiral. Then I stepped back further each time. “Looking good.”
“I played center field in softball.”
“I can see that.”
“Thank you. I’m glad I’m not embarrassing myself too much.”
This beautiful woman could never embarrass herself. She was strong, confident, good at whatever she put her mind to.
“You want to go long?”
She nodded eagerly. I checked her feet to make sure she was wearing athletic shoes before pulling my arm back, nodding at her. She took off. I had to force my gaze from her bouncing chest before I threw it. At first it was ahead of her, then she sprinted harder, diving at the last second. It bounced just beyond her fingertips.
I ran to catch up to her. “That was amazing.”
She’d rolled onto her back, gazing up at the sky. “Not catching the ball is amazing?”
I dropped onto my knees next to her, unable to look away from her beautiful face.
Her gaze flicked to me then back to the stars. “This is beautiful.”
I laid next to her, one hand behind my head, the other over my stomach. “It is.”
We laid there, content in the moment.
