One hand holding her gorgeous ass, the other caressing the bare skin of her back, I confided, “I need to be alone with you. Now.”
We took off, heading for the player’s tunnel, ignoring shouts from the coaching staff calling me back. Fuck them all. I needed to be alone with my girl.
Molly giggled, nuzzling my neck, and asked, “Don’t you have to be with the team?”
“You want to give them all an after show? Because right now all I can think of is being inside you, and no matter where we are in thirty minutes, it’s happening.”
Golden-brown eyes widened, and she sucked in a low breath. “We need to go… like now.”
Relaxing for the first time in weeks, I exhaled in relief. “Glad we’re finally on the same fuckin’ page.”
34
NFL Draft
Radio City Music Hall, New York
Four Months Later…
“The first draft… for the next NFL season… for Seattle Seahawks… is… quarterback… Romeo Prince… from… the Alabama Crimson Tide!!!”
A warm wave of relief washed over my body, and I closed my eyes.
I’d done it. And hell, I was the first pick draft. I was the best fucking player in the country… I was worth something after all.
An excited high-pitched scream sounded in my ear and my girl pulled me to my feet. Unable to resist getting caught up in the moment, I lifted her to my lips and kissed her over and over. I pulled back and she whispered, “Baby, you did it.”
As I looked into Molly’s eyes, I remembered a time when I wasn’t sure she’d ever come back to me, never mind be right here beside me as my life changed and my dream came true, or at least half of my dream.
A steward tapped me on the shoulder. “Mr. Prince, we need to go to the stage now. Please follow me.”
Nodding and squeezing Molly’s hand one more time, I turned to the corridor, a huge friggin’ camera following me the entire way. I took the Seahawks baseball cap handed to me and, placing it on my head, walked onto the stage.
The lights and the noise were blinding.
The commissioner pulled me in close as he shook my hand, saying, “Well done, son! You got to be feeling pretty damn happy right now!”
Slightly dazed by all of the attention, I just nodded numbly, and he handed me my Seahawks jersey, the feel of it in my hands and the PRINCE 7 on the back too much to take in.
I had to do a shitload of press, answering question after question about how I felt going to Seattle. How do you verbalize a dream coming true? I was excited, beyond excited, and told a thousand journalists so—it was the fucking NFL after all—but something just wasn’t sitting right in my stomach. A sinking feeling of doubt was tugging at my mind. I knew what it was… Mol. She hadn’t decided on a damn school yet for her PhD. We’d been living together for months now. After our stint apart, we moved into our own apartment almost immediately, and I’d seen her apply to lots of colleges and hadn’t dared bring up my anxiety about us having to live apart. At this point in my life, I knew I couldn’t be without her. Hell, I didn’t sleep anymore if she wasn’t curled into my side.
Those thoughts kept playing on my mind as I shook a million hands, met Seahawks staff by the dozen, and by the time I got back to the green room—my friends and Molly still giddy as all hell from my achievement—I was ready to tear my fucking hair out with worry.
Flashing me a huge smile, my girl launched into my arms, pressing kisses all over my face, singing, “I love you, I love you, I love you…”
Trying to ease my anxiety, I pulled her into my chest, probably holding her too tight. I obviously had, because when I let her go, her eyebrows were drawn and she asked, “What? What’s wrong?”
She could read me like a book.
I glanced over her shoulder and noticed our friends staring at us, smiling… Well, except for Ally. She was frowning too, sensing my weird turn in mood.
I held up my hand to our friends, excusing Molly and myself, and, needing to deal with this crap now, pulled her down a corridor, making sure we were alone. She smiled and playfully tugged on the peak of my cap, but I could see the strain around her eyes… She thought I wasn’t happy.
Reaching for the cap and pulling it off, I said, “I am happy, baby.” I didn’t want her to misunderstand that. “But I can’t do it without you. Seattle. I’m going to Seattle. You applied to Harvard, Yale, and Stanford that I know of. You’ve been so fuckin’ secretive, and I’m going insane. We could be on different sides of the country for all I know, and I need you with me. I don’t think I can do this without you.”
“Rome—” She tried to interrupt, but I had to get all of this out before it ate me alive.
“I feel like just demanding it because I know you would drop everything for me. But I also want your dreams to come true. I don’t know how to have both you and football.”