Chapter Twenty-Five
Roman
I sat staring at the wall in front of me. The book I had gotten to read while I waited was this murder mystery thriller title and almost fifty pages in wasn't really doing it for me. I felt like I had to commit to it now, though, since I was already invested. Plus, it was too late to go try to buy another.
I felt like airports were like hospitals, everyone in there was suffering a little bit somehow. I didn't dislike traveling, but it was a hassle sometimes. Today, I was just wishing I had managed to get myself an earlier flight than the one I had.
I thought about talking to Veronica, but I had been texting her all week. I wanted to see her already. We had a date tonight, was the light at the end of the tunnel as the week had dragged on. I didn't like the distance between us, even though it was necessary. Now that this was over, I was looking forward to some time with her. If I ended up hearing back from anyone, it would probably only be in a couple weeks or something.
Leaning back in my seat, I tried to get into the book. A man walking by came up and asked whether the seat I was using for my duffel was taken. I told him it wasn't and moved it to the floor so he could sit. He was in a suit and sat up straight in his seat. He was talking on his phone with one of those earpiece things that made people look crazy, walking around talking out loud on their own.
"Are you here from the regional combine?" I heard him say, then repeat because it turned out he wasn't talking on his phone anymore. I turned to look at him. He looked about late thirties or early forties, trim, normal-looking with short hair.
"Yeah, actually. I am," I said, a little surprised. Either that had been a good guess because so many guys were flying back home after the event so this place was rotten with us, or he recognized me somehow. If he did, that only made one of us.
"I'm Andrew. Andrew Richardson," he said, introducing himself.
"Roman Blake," I said, shaking the man's hand.
"I remember you," he said.
"Yeah?"
"I saw you at the combine. You had the bench press record. 42 reps, right? That was impressive."
"Thanks," I said, not sure why he felt like telling me all this. I knew he wasn't a player. He wasn't really built like one, and he looked like he had probably aged out maybe seven years ago. No offense meant.
"Yeah. I scout for a couple teams around here. How long have you played QB?" he asked. Shit, he really had been paying attention.
"Most of high school. For college, I started for two years."
"Just two?"
"Two years was as long as I was in school. I just got back from Afghanistan." He sat forward a little, impressed.
"So this isn't even you at one hundred percent?"
"I made sure I kept my conditioning up, but I haven't really played, not for about a year."
"I thought you were good, kid, but that changes everything," he said. "Listen, I'm not supposed to tell you this, not this early, but my people have their eye on you."
"They're interested in signing me?"
"You're a real QB. If that's how you look after a year off, what the hell are you gonna pull out after training? I'm not supposed to tell you this, either, but give it a week or so, someone will be calling you and they might be making you an offer," he said grinning.
"That sounds great. What team?"
"That gonna be something that makes you say no?"
"No, I'm just curious," I said quickly.
"Relax. I'm just messing with you. Where are you from?"
"Aberdeen. South Dakota."
"Aberdeen, huh? Well, how does Miami sound?"
Miami? Far. It sounded far. I didn't say that, though. I said it sounded good and that I had never been. He gave me his card, and when I thanked him and said I would call, he insisted on taking my number himself. He ended up boarding before me for another flight, so I was alone again. I tried to get into the book, but it didn't work. I read the same three sentences over and over till I gave up.
Miami?
All those times Ron and I used to talk about going to see the ocean together swelled up in my memory. Miami was right on the water. It was also thousands of miles away. I knew that I would have to deal with some distance, but how far was too far? Miami felt too far, and if that was how I felt, how would Ron feel.
Was I going to tell her? I had to, didn't I? I didn't want to hide things from her, the last time I had, it had been a disaster. How the hell would I break it to her, though? We're finally doing good and then this happens? I have to go to Miami? The boarding call for my flight interrupted my thoughts.
This was about to be a long flight.
"I'm gonna have to start charging you for these rides," Tiffany said as I walked up to her. "Normal people get cabs."
"Good to see you, too, Tiff," I said, smirking.
"How'd it go?" she asked. I threw my bag in the back and got in the passenger side.
"You know. Fine," I said shrugging. She started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.
"Just fine?" she asked. I shrugged again.
"It was football, I've been playing for almost as long as I've been able to catch a ball."
"You know what I mean, Roman."
"It was good."
"Hm." She made the sound the way our mother used to. I think it was a woman thing, being able to tell someone they were ticking you off without even opening your mouth.
"What?"
"It's fine if it didn't work out, Roman. What matters is you did it, and you're going after what you want." I looked at her, frowning.
"What are you talking about, Tiff?"
"I mean, it doesn't matter what happened this week."
"What do you think happened? I said it was good."
"I remember you telling me that you could join a minor league team and work your way up-"
"Tiff," I cut her off, "none of that happened. It was good."
"So, you're joining a team?"
"Not exactly. It's not as simple as just showing up. A scout told me that his team is interested in maybe signing me, but I have to wait a while before they get back to me."
"That's great," she said. "That's what you wanted."
"It was. It's just this team... It's not really close by."
"Yeah? How far are we talking?"
"Miami. How far is that?"
"It'll be a trip, but worth it. I mean, this is your way in. You wanted to get in the league, and if this works out, you will."
"I know. I keep telling myself that. It's just timing, you know?"
"I think I might, but I want you to say it," she said. I looked out the window.
"I'm finally getting somewhere with Ron."
"Don't, Roman."
"Don't what? I wanted two things when I came back from Afghanistan: to play again and to get Ron back."
"You didn't see this coming?"
"I did. I just didn't see Miami coming. I wanted to think I could find a spot somewhere closer where the distance wouldn't be that much of a strain."
"Roman, what are the chances that that's going to happen? If you have this opportunity now, you need to take it."
"I don't want to leave Ron behind."
"You can talk to Ron and figure stuff out with her. You can't do that with this team. They don't care that you and her are trying to work things out. You can't say no to this."
"I impressed one team – it could happen again."
"You don't know that. You can't bank on something like this happening again."
"I'll think about it," I said.
"I'm just saying," she said. Of course she was, it was easy for her. This wasn't her problem. She was quiet till we got to my place. I felt better when I got inside, but not that much better. It was good to be back home, even though I hadn't been living here long and likely wouldn't be for much longer.
I didn't know what I was expecting Tiffany to tell me. What the hell would she have said? What had I wanted to hear? That her best friend, Ron was the person I needed to focus on right now so fuck Miami, and fuck getting in the league. I knew this was going to be hard,but I wasn't looking forward to making these decisions.
Obviously, I wasn't losing Ron again. People did the long distance thing all the time – maybe we could become one of those couples. Maybe we wouldn't have to because the team wouldn't end up taking me after all, there was that. I wasn't in yet, not really. It sucked because I wanted to be, but thinking about Ron took some of that sting away.
Why was this happening to me again? What the fuck was it that didn't want me and Ron to be together? First the army, now this. Were we being tested? This was bullshit.
And, I had to see her tonight. I would have been excited – and I was – but I was not looking forward to talking about this with her, even though I knew I couldn't hide it. I couldn't do that to her again, leave her hanging when she thought everything between us was good.
But wait, I didn't have to tell her anything right now, did I? All I knew was that the team was interested and that they were located in Miami. They hadn't set a contract in front of me or anything, I didn't technically have any decisions to make about them; it was a waiting game. That meant Ron didn't have to hear any of it. It wasn't something she had to worry about, why would I make her worry behind something that might not even happen?
We could just have a good time out and spend the night together. When it became a problem, she'd know about it. I'd give her that. This? This didn't matter.
I texted her that I was back and kept myself busy as I waited to go pick her up. It was 7:32 when I pulled up at her building. I was always excited to see her when we'd been apart for a while, but I was taking the stairs two at a time. We had talked the whole week that I had been gone – texts, Facetime, all of that. Would that be what it was like when we were long distance?
I shook my head, getting rid of the thought. We weren’t long distance now, so it didn't matter. If we ever had to cross that bridge, we'd do it then. What I had to do was get to her fucking door so I could kiss her again.
I'd made it a whole year without touching her, but I was feeling this past five days without contact more and more with each step I took towards her door. I hadn't made reservations anywhere, but I was sure we'd luck out somewhere if we left early enough. With the way I was feeling, though, I was doubting how early we'd be able to make it out.
It was a short wait between my knock and her answer. The door swung open and her arms were around me in a second flat. I hugged her close, lifting her into me. The smell of her hair hit me first, sweet like vanilla. I squeezed her kissing her neck and shoulder. Oh yeah, I had missed her. I let her go when she unwrapped her arms from my shoulders. And then, she kissed me.
I held her close parting her lips with my tongue. Maybe I'd leave more often if she was this happy to see me when I got back. I could get used to this.
"Hey, how was your flight?" she asked me shyly, pulling away. I kissed her again, one more time, soft on her lips.
"It was good. Definitely better being back, though," I said. She giggled.
"We should go inside," she said, looking up and down the hallway. She took my hand leading me inside.
"Are you about ready to go?" I asked, then stopped. Her dining table was on the right when you walked in, usually covered with school stuff. Tonight, instead of books, it was covered in food. I noticed the two opposite place settings and looked at her.
"Are you expecting someone?" I asked her.
"I wanted it to be a surprise, that's why I didn't tell you."
"You cooked us dinner?"
"I wanted to stay in with you tonight. I thought you'd like it," she said, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Are you hungry?"
We had never lived together, but something about coming home and finding a home cooked meal just for me was suddenly making me think we had to try it out.
"Starving," I said, checking out the spread.
"Great. I'll be right back. Sit," she said, turning and disappearing into the bedroom.
One of the dishes was full of bacon-wrapped chicken breasts. Other had mashed potatoes in it. One was full of salad, and the last was cauliflower, broccoli, and carrots in a creamy sauce. She had asked me to wait, but would she be upset if I started without her?
She popped back out of her bedroom, in a t-shirt and shorts and her hair down.
"Ready?" I asked.
"One more thing?" I sat as she disappeared into the kitchen then came back out with a bottle of wine.
"This all looks amazing, babe," I told her.
"Good," she said smugly, smiling at me. She handed me the dish full of salad. "If you taste it and it isn't great, don't tell me." I took the wine and opened it, pouring us both glasses. She loaded my plate with food as I did that, obviously confident that I'd love her cooking. I was excited to try it, especially if this spread was going to be half as good as the breakfast we’d had before I left.
"So?" she asked, watching me taste a piece of the chicken. She knew it was delicious; she just wanted me to say it.
"It's amazing. When did you start cooking like this?"
"I invested in a few cookbooks. I eat in all the time already. I wanted to try to have some fun with it."
"You cook like this every night?"
"I wish," she said, taking a sip of her wine. "It's just me usually, so nothing this grand."
"Tell me when you're feeling domestic. I'll eat anything you put in front of me," I said. "I was getting sick of the hotel food."
"Hotel food's great."
"Not for five days straight. I ended up at this barbecue spot three nights in a row."
"What else did you do? Besides play football and eat barbecue?" she asked.
Talking to her now, I wished that I had done more. I hadn’t really been thinking about seeing the city or exploring, anything like that, while I was gone. Besides showing out at the combine, I was focused on getting back home, mostly.
I thought about telling her what happened at the airport back in Houston. I mean, getting notice by a team was what I had gone there to do in the first place. She wouldn’t have been surprised by it. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t feel another way, though. If I got into it I’d have to tell her that the team that hinted at wanting me was in Miami. Why would I ruin the night bringing up that shit? All I had gotten from that Richardson guy was a hard maybe, not a yes.
I helped her clear the table off when we were done. She emptied the leftovers into Tupperware containers and put them in the fridge while I started on the dishes.
"You don't have to do that, Rome," she said, putting a hand on my back.
"You cooked, I can clean up. Have some wine, this won't take long."
"Leave them there, I never even remember to wash them at night anyway," she said. Her hand crept up to my shoulder. "Come to the living room with me."
"Ten minutes," I told her. "Have some wine. I'll be right out." Her arms wrapped around me from behind.
“You think this is what I want you to do the first time I’ve seen you in a week?” she asked. She came around from behind me and hopped up onto the counter on my right. Then, casual as hell lifted her shirt up over her head.
“Ron,” I said, trailing off.
“I don’t know why a dirty pile of dishes is more interesting to you than I am. I know what I’d rather be doing right now.” She hopped off the counter and started on her shorts. She pulled the zipper down, and they fell to the ground. Her underwear was white. I turned the faucet off and grabbed her, pulling her into me.
“You’ve got my attention, happy now?” I asked. She trailed her hands under my shirt, up my abs.
“Almost,” she said, smirking. Her hand went down to my pants, squeezing my cock through the fabric. I held her by the back of her head and kissed her. I had wanted to at least get her to the bed first but the girl was desperate. Who the hell was I to say no to that?