I meant it. I’d been hurting yesterday, but none of it mattered now.
“I love you so much.” Pax touched my lips to his, an affirmation that we were okay.
When we’d tasted enough, felt our way back to even ground after yesterday’s events, I pulled back. “I’m going to pay for the funeral.”
It wasn’t a practice I usually kept, but in certain cases, I wanted to do it. It not only helped the families, whose medical expenses had usually piled up to insurmountable bills, but it was something that marginally made me feel better. I could do something to be useful, to take the burden off their backs. I did it when I could.
“Let me help, let me contribute. I want to.” Pax nodded.
I wasn’t going to argue, I wanted Ryan’s family to have anything they needed.
Two days later, we laid a sweet little boy to rest.
The funeral was packed, people of all ages and walks of life that Ryan had touched. Half the Cheetahs team forwent the morning practice days before the Super Bowl to be there, a lot of them remembering the glorious day when Ryan ran around playing catch with them.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the place when his father took to the altar, talking about his son’s radiant personality or ability to see the world in a positive light even when it had dealt him a crappy hand. He asked us all to clap for Ryan, said his son would have loved being the singular celebration of so many people. When the place erupted, I had to lean into Paxton to stop from erupting into tears on the spot.
As we left the brunch for friends and family two hours later, my eyes felt like they needed to close for the next four days.
“I don’t know how you do this over and over again.” Pax shook his head, his eyes bloodshot too.
I took a deep breath. “That’s why I do this. If I can bring some little sliver of good to these families for the short period of time they have together, I want to do that. No matter how much it hurts, over and over again, I know I have to do it. It heals the cracks in my heart, if only momentarily, that formed when Ezra died. I see him in every single child, and if I can give them a minute’s relief from this, I’m happy to suffer the consequences afterward.”
He nodded, The Eagles singing softly on the radio. “I’m so proud to know you, Demi. You are the epitome of good in this world.”
Reaching my hand across the console, I laced our fingers. “Thank you for coming with me today. I’ve done a lot of these on mine own. It helps to have someone you love there.”
“I don’t know how you live after that.” Pax shakes his head, the clutches of the funeral still in him.
I knew how he felt, how he couldn’t let the idea of death and a small innocent child go. It felt wrong, backward. There was no way to make sense of it.
The sun had almost gone down, the day feeling impossibly long and yet it was only seven o’clock. Darkness enveloped the car, and the mild cold of early February in Charlotte seeped into my bones.
“Those parents … how do you go on?” he chokes out, and I know he’s spiraling.
I sigh, squeezing his thigh. “You just do. You’re not a whole person anymore, you and I know the feeling of losing someone. But each day, each year, it gets a little more manageable. It’s never easy, there are moments where you feel paralyzed with the loss, but you survive. And you remember the good moments. Cling to them, feel the pure happiness that happened during those times.”
“When we have kids, I will never be able to let them out of my sight.”
Paxton’s words make me stop breathing, because, of course, I’ve thought about kids, but he just bluntly put it out there. “You want children?”
“A dozen of them, enough to man a basketball team or start our own singing group like that movie in Austria.”
I laugh. “The Sound of Music? Okay. When are we getting started on this troupe?”
The insanity of his statement, and the giddiness I felt when talking about hypothetically starting a family with Pax overtook me. It eased the tension left behind from the funeral, and I wanted to use it to pull him out of his grief.
“I’d have started yesterday if you’d let me. Who knows, maybe my guys will just swim extra hard with some coaching.”
I snort and roll my eyes. “Yeah, because that’s how babies are made. You know I’m on the pill.”
“So let’s pull the goalie.” Pax looks at me, no smile on his face.
I smack his arm. “Get out of here.”
“I’m serious. Let’s have a baby. It’s only a matter of time before we’ll want to try anyway.” Now his face was beaming with excitement, and I knew he was cycling through emotions because of the trauma of today.
Palming his cheek as he swung onto the street where my condo was, I smiled. “Let’s talk about it after we get through the biggest game of your career. Oh, and retirement. I think you have enough on your plate right now.”
We tabled the discussion, but that night as I laid down next to him, all I could think about was a chubby little baby with Pax’s eyes and my hair.
Thirty-Eight
Paxton
I knew from the moment I took that phone call about Ryan, that I needed to ask Demi to marry me as soon as possible.
It was kind of morbid, if you thought about it, how death reminded us about the most important things in life. It had happened when I’d lost my parents, I’d stopped fucking around both figuratively and literally, and wised up. And now, with the loss of our little friend, it made me realize that I shouldn’t waste any more time where it concerned making the woman I loved my wife.
So, I’d had the ring polished, put in a new velvet lined box, and made the one call I knew was essential before I could get down on one knee.
If there isn’t a puddle of sweat underneath my loafers, then my deodorant is doing its job tenfold.
I wipe my hands on my pants again, checking my watch and taking another sip of water. The waiter had asked if I wanted something stronger, but I need my head clear. Aaron Rosen already scared the shit out of me, I didn’t need him running circles around me conversation wise after I’d gotten a drink in me.
He had to have some idea why I had asked him to lunch, which was probably why the son of a bitch was running late. This was an intimidation tactic, and it was working.
“Paxton.” Aaron’s voice, friendly but commanding, sounded from behind me.
I stood to greet him, extending my hand. “Mr. Rosen, nice to see you. Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”
He shook it. “You can call me Aaron. I have a feeling we’re about to become much closer anyway.”
The waiter came over when he saw us sit down, and took our orders. I’d ordered a bland, high protein and vegetable dish, with little carbs. With the Super Bowl just two days away, I needed to keep to a strict diet.
After we’d settled in with drinks, I cut straight to the point.
“I think you know why I asked you here today.” I paused, waiting for him to guess.
But Aaron just sat, stone-faced, waiting for me to presumably plead my case. My shirt clung to my skin, sweat rolling down my back.
“Ever since I moved back to Charlotte, and saw your daughter for the first time in years, I’d realized I’d been doing it all wrong. Life, that is. Because without her, I’d just been surviving. Running on fumes. Demi, your daughter, she is the reason I came back, even if I didn’t know it. Fate, and this might sound corny, intervened. I would like to marry her, sir. I’m asking for your permission. And before you question if I’m worthy enough … just know that I’m probably not. No one really is, not for the likes of Demi. But … I do promise to try my very hardest to become worthy. To protect her, to put her above all else, to love her and provide for her. I promise not to interfere with her success, her independent streak. So please, I came here to ask you for her hand. Would you allow me to marry your daughter?”
Aaron eyes me down, studying me as I realize he is digesting my words.
“You’re not Jewish.” His expressio
n is stone when he finally speaks.
“No, sir, I’m not. But that is your daughter’s choice, and I love her very much. And I don’t want to dare speak for you, but I’ll go out on a limb and say that you’d rather her be endlessly happy than marry someone she wasn’t fully sure about just because they held the same religious beliefs.”
One eyebrow raises, and I think maybe I’ve captured his queen in this chess match of wits. “And what about children? If I did allow you into my family, I’d be sorely disappointed if I didn’t get to share my faith with my grandchildren.”
I use my hands to talk. “I understand that, but again, that would be Demi and mine’s choice. Although, I am not opposed to it. I want to make her happy, that is my life’s mission. And if she wants that, I wouldn’t stand in the way.”
The waiter comes, setting our food down in front of us, and Aaron still hasn’t given me an answer. I’m getting anxious, and for the first time since I came up with my plan to propose to Demi, I have some doubts that it will actually happen.
What would I do if her father said no? I know my girl, she would want me to get his permission. She’s traditional, and it would mean a lot to her to have her parent’s blessing on our future marriage. I can’t imagine a life without her, but what would a life without her family’s approval look like?
“Okay,” he speaks, cutting into his steak without looking at me.
“What?” I almost didn’t hear him.
Aaron puts down his utensils and levels with me. “I said, okay. You can marry my daughter. You have my permission. But if you ever, ever hurt her, Shaw, I’ll saw off your balls with a dull steak knife.”
To make his point, he begins cutting into the meat again, almost hacking at it. I gulp, knowing he isn’t lying. But, at the same time, I’m ecstatic, adrenaline pumping through my veins at the prospect of getting down on one knee so soon.
“Thank you, Aaron. Truly, I want to become a part of your family, and plan to make your daughter very happy.”
He waves me off. “Don’t suck up, son. Eat your food, you have a game to prepare for. Speaking of, I heard about this retirement. Can’t say I didn’t agree to your future engagement with that in mind. I think it’ll make for a more stable marriage if you aren’t on the road half the year.”
I nod. “I agree, too.”
He points the knife in my direction. “But don’t get complacent, a man needs to work. What do you plan to do after you hang up that jersey?”
I swallowed down my food, still nervous in his presence even though the big ask was over. “I still have endorsement deals and contracts to fulfill, so those will keep me busy. But I know I need to find something to occupy my time. I’ll figure it out, as we know, I have other interests than just football.”
Aaron smiles, the first non-threatening expression he’s brought to this table. “I’m glad it’s you, the one she is finally ready to settle down with. I like a man who isn’t afraid to step up to me. Now let me tell you about my latest read, I think you’ll like it, too.”
As he launched into his latest novel obsession, we settled into a friendly, amicable lunch. And in the back of my mind, I realized that I wasn’t just gaining a wife, I was gaining a family.
Thirty-Nine
Paxton
Eight Years Ago
I was going to go early. At least, that’s what my agent had told me.
Mom, Dad and Dylan sit next to me, our table crowded into the arena that featured other top recruits from various colleges around the country. The place is alive with energy and anxiety, it’s floating through the air and you could reach out and grab some if you really wanted to try.
I can’t believe it’s finally here. Just a week ago, I was walking my college campus, swinging my dick around like I couldn’t be touched. Like I was invincible.
And I still am, but I can’t help that little fish in a big pond feeling that has overwhelmed me since the combine. Which, by the way, I set records in.
“Honey, I am so proud of you.” Mom wiped a tear from her eye, and squeezed my hand under the table.
“Mom, will you please stop crying?” Dylan texted on his phone, rolling his eyes at her.
“It’s all for you, Mom.” I smiled at her, half-serious and half to make my brother look like the bad child.
“Kiss ass,” Dylan mutters.
“Holy cow, that’s John Elway.” Dad was like a giddy school boy.
“Pretty fucking cool, right?” I joined in on his excitement, because it was surreal seeing so many of your idols in one room.
“Paxton, language!” Mom scolded me.
I tipped my head in apology, and then pulled at my shirt collar, the tie only making me sweat more than I already was. Some brand, I forget the name, had paid me a chunk of money just to wear their suit today. How insane was that? They paid me. That’s what this was going to be like, the next level in this sport. Sure, college football had brought pretty pussy and free drinks, some nice gear … but this was big time.
Being a professional football player meant advertisement deals and campaigns, the chance to design my own gear, or get into my own product line. I had no idea what that would be, but hell, I had the resources at my fingertips if I made good on my talent in the game.
“Son, I just want you to take a deep breath. If you don’t go first, nothing changes. It’s an honor just to be here.” Dad patted my shoulder.
My parents were the best, always grounding my brother and me and showing us the fair, modest way. I’d lost some of that, being away from them at school. Part of my conscience burned every time I pulled a dick move on campus or at a bar, or with a random girl in a random room.
But now that I was here with them, something had fallen back into place. I didn’t feel like answering my father with some snide remark, like I would have to one of my buddies in our fraternity house. I really wanted to listen to him, take his genuine advice and apply it. I wanted to let my mom boast about me, give me a gold star. I was like a damn preening kindergartner, and it might be a sissy thing to be, but right now I was just going to let it happen.
“Got it, Dad.” I nodded at him, serious.
It had been a long time since my family had all been together. I had a bowl game over Christmas break, so I wasn’t able to get home. Then Mom and Dad had flown out to me for my birthday in April, and Dylan had come to visit back in February. I know he went home for the holidays, but we hadn’t all been together as a four-unit family since … last year?
And suddenly I realized how hard it was going to be to get the four of us together when I was traveling and training every week. The league was a thousand times more demanding than college, and a pang of sadness hit me in the gut that I would be alone a majority of my life now.
The draft started, the music dramatic and kind of cheesy, but exactly what this kind of moment called for.
“Massachusetts is on the clock with the first draft pick in this first round,” the master of ceremonies announced into the microphone on stage.
It only took my favorite team, the one I was rooting for to take me, one minute and six seconds to solidify their pick.
And when the current running back of the team, the one I’d idolized for six seasons, came to the mic, bent down, and said my name, I could hardly believe it.
The room erupted around me, Mom jumped up and hugged my neck, crying into it, her tears wetting the lapel of my suit. Dad had the proudest look on his face that I’d ever seen, and even Dylan stood to bump my fist. And then told me to get him season tickets.
But as I stood up on that stage, shaking hands and holding up a jersey with my name on the back, I couldn’t help but look down at the crowd.
See the other players, squeezing their girlfriend’s hands.
Some of them had wives, children.
They were more focused on them than what pick they were or what city they’d uproot their lives to. Had people they were going to be able to come home to and share this journey with.
> And for the first time in my life, I thought that maybe I’d made a mistake when it came to women. Typically, I’d one and done them. They were little more than a sexy, flirty distraction.
Except right now, I wanted to know what Demi Rosen thought about me going number one. I had this urge to lie in her bed with her, talking after we’d fucked each other’s brains out. There was this yearning in me, to know if she was watching and if she was happy. Not just for me, but in life. I’d left without so much as a wave or a nod, and now I kind of felt bad about that.
Standing up on the biggest stage of my life, and I was thinking about a woman.
And now it was probably too late to do anything about that.
Forty
Demi
“I know it’s not your perfect rooftop patio, but it was the best I could do on short notice.”
I swing open the door, and the night air greets us. Pax follows me out.
“How did you pull this off? Do I even want to know?” Pax kissed me on the cheek, looking up.
“I may or may not have pulled the bellboy aside, gave him a fifty, and convinced him that this was what Paxton Shaw needed to guarantee this city a Super Bowl win.” I shrugged.
He chuckled. “The press would have a field day if they got a hold of this.”
“Eh, who cares, you’re retiring tomorrow.” I walk to him, leaning in and resting my head against him as I looked up.
“How did you know this would be exactly what I needed tonight?” He cradles me into his warmth.
“Because I know you, Paxton Shaw. And I wanted to sneak out with you, teenage dream style.”
“Our parents might find out … or Coach. Then I’d be in big trouble. Technically, I should be sleeping right now.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” I put a finger to my lip, and he bites it. “I have another surprise.”
When Stars Burn Out Page 15
