“All right, we’ve waited long enough. Tell me how things are with Natalie,” Sam said, draining his juice and setting his glass on the small table between their chairs.
How to answer? Natalie talked with him whenever they swapped Touchdown, but he hadn’t been invited over for another meal. Likely because she didn’t want to raise his hopes too much. Of course, their Outlander watch party had pretty much shot his hopes to the moon. He’d gone around like a love-sick schoolboy for the past few days.
“Good, I think. She and the hotel are catering a few of our meals this weekend, except for Saturday night when we’ll go into town. I rented part of the Irish bar for us.”
There was an indelicate snort from his friend. “Catering, huh? That’s mighty nice of her.”
“Yes, it is.” He then told Sam the story about their friends-only meal the other night. “I think…she feels guilty about me leaving football and…hell, I’ll put it out there…I think she’s a little sorry for me because of Adam.”
“She probably feels guilty for leaving you like she did, especially now that you’ve forgiven her. And as far as her feeling sorry for you…you just lost your brother, man. There’s nothing wrong with a little compassion.”
But he wanted more than that from her. Isn’t that why he hadn’t said anything to her about Adam until coming to Dare Valley? His mind started spinning to a weird place, and since he wanted to retain his positivity about Natalie—about his hopes for a future with her—he changed the topic to his other favorite subject.
“Why don’t you tell me a bit about your upcoming season?” he asked. “Since we aren’t going to be playing against each other, you can spill the beans.” And it would give him a taste of what he’d been missing.
“Sure. And hey, that means I can call you and ask for advice now and again.”
“Yeah, you can.” Even he heard the glee in his voice.
Sam began walking him through the Washington Warriors’ offense and then moved onto their defense. By the time he rolled around to outlining their opponents for the coming season, there was a solid banging on the front door. Touchdown barked and darted to the front of the house.
“Guess our one-on-one is up,” Blake said, rising.
He jogged to the front door, fearing the guys would knock it off the hinges, and swung it open to reveal six hulking figures grinning back at him.
“Well, at least you don’t look like an ancient retiree,” Atlanta Rebels’ Jordan Dean barked out as he rushed him.
“I could still kick your ass,” he said, slapping him on the back as they hugged.
Then he went from one guy to the next, man-hugging each of them with all his strength. His football brothers were in the house. All was well in his world at this moment.
“I think I see more gray in your hair,” the Boston Stars’ prize wide receiver Logan Eastwood said when they broke apart. “Good thing Jordan brought his special hair dye.”
He cringed. He was going to have to lock his door at night.
“I’ll keep your hair safe, Blake,” New York Tigers’ QB Hunter Cahill told him as he stooped to pick up Touchdown.
“My hair is just fine,” he told them, hoping he was right. God, he wasn’t going gray, was he? Shit, he was way too young for that. He’d have to drink more smoothies or something.
“Your hair doesn’t hold a candle to mine,” San Francisco Stingrays’ defensive lineman Grant Thornton said, ruffling his messy page-boy brown locks that were the subject of many a fan tweet.
“Not even Jordan can compete with your do,” Sam said as he made his own round of greetings. “No one can.”
“Hey, I resent that,” Jordan said, tilting his head back like he was a male model awaiting admiration.
“You would,” Blake called out. He’d been good-naturedly ragging other players ever since he first started playing team sports at the age of five. He realized he’d been missing this…a lot.
Brody Keller, the Chicago Titans’ wide receiver, gave him a playful shove. “I can’t believe you up and retired on me. I was going to kick your ass when we played this year.”
“You’re only sore because I retired before you could beat me.”
“He sure is,” Zack Durant, quarterback of the New Orleans Akkadians, said. “I’m pissed too. We were even at two wins apiece. Guess we’ll have to figure out some other way to break that tie.”
Everyone fell silent for a minute, and Jordan locked eyes with him.
“How are you really doing?” the QB asked.
His chest squeezed tight, but he lifted his shoulder. “About how you’d expect. I still miss Adam like crazy and find myself grieving at the oddest times when something triggers it.” Last night, it had been Adam’s favorite song coming on the radio as he’d driven back from his run. “And then there’s Natalie…”
“Ah…that girl,” Hunter said quietly.