Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Ugh, okay, I really have to go,” she said, sneaking a peek at the play clock. “But we will all get together soon. And I’m adding you to the weekly Zoom call with the girls. We have so much to talk about. And so much to plan!”
I chuckled, my heart warming with the most unfamiliar sensation.
It had been a long time since I’d had a group of girlfriends.
“Congratulations, by the way,” she whispered. “I can’t wait for Kyle’s Daddy era.”
“Thank you, G. And thanks for not being… thanks for not judging our situation.”
She frowned. “Judging? Why on earth would I?”
I shrugged. “I mean, let’s be honest… it is all a bit crazy.”
At that, Giana sighed and smiled up at me like the sun beam that she was, her hands squeezing mine once more.
“All the best love stories are.”
Kyle
Nothing I experienced at the collegiate level could have ever truly prepared me for what I’d experience in the NFL.
I heard the stories from other players about the after-game madness on the field. I remembered Holden telling us all after his first few games how the hits were bigger, harder — the kind that would steal your breath and leave your head spinning. I knew to expect more cameras and interviews, to have higher demands put on me, to have coaches breathing down my throat demanding me to be better.
And yet, here I was, seven weeks into the season, and I still felt like a little kid who just took his training wheels off.
My confidence was building, but slowly, like thick syrup draining down a very small straw. I felt myself getting stronger, faster, and learning my way around my new team and my new opponents.
Still, my stats weren’t what I wanted them to be. I only had one-hundred-and-fifty-two receiving yards and one touchdown. We weren’t even halfway through the season, and I knew I had the opportunity to have a great rookie showing by the end of it all.
But I hated where I was currently.
I wanted more. I was thirsty. Hungry. Ready to devour.
I just needed my body to catch up to my brain.
And while I’d thrived off the media attention and brand deals in college, they felt overwhelming now. I found myself slacking on social media, focusing only on what Giana said was absolutely necessary. I recorded commercials. I posed for pictures for the brands sponsoring me. I took the interviews she or the team’s PR coordinator instructed me to.
But at the end of a game, I didn’t want to flex or show off — even if we won. I’d lost the desire to take out my phone and film a selfie, or to be front and center at a post-game press conference.
Giana assured me it would come back, once I felt more comfortable.
As it was, the only thing I thought of after a game was getting home to Madelyn and Sebastian.
We’d moved into the new house just before the start of the school year and, in turn, the regular season. And while we might have picked the most chaotic time to make such a change, it was like the most natural shift for all of us.
Sebastian loved his new school and our new home. He especially loved his new room, which was twice the size of his old one. Plus, we had a pool, and a hot tub, and an outdoor court to play on, and a huge yard, and a view of the water. Upstairs, we’d made a playroom all for him — complete with an epic case to display his favorite rocks.
And, of course, a lizard mansion for Titan.
Madelyn was having a bit of a harder time, but mostly because she’d been so sick. Maybe that was part of why I wanted to rush home to her after every practice and every game. I would have given up my entire career if I could switch places with her, if I could take the nausea and headaches and exhaustion that had taken over her entire life.
But she was strong. God, she was strong. And beautiful. Every time I looked at her, even when she looked green and ready to shove me aside to run for the toilet, I found myself struck with how fucking gorgeous she was. She’d laugh and wave me off when I told her as much, arguing with me instead that she looked like death.
I knew it was hard for her, but it seemed almost harder to let me help. I knew without asking that Marshall hadn’t been a partner to her through her first pregnancy. She’d had to do it all on her own.
Not this time.
I made sure to show up for her, every day, in every way I could, to let her know that we were in this together.
It was what I would have done even when I was sixteen, had I been given the choice.