We won our game Sunday, but after the first few snaps, I realized Wes wasn’t throwing to me. He was still pissed about last week. I tried to talk to him on the sideline, but he walked the other direction. I was going to have to prove myself again. Fuck.

This was one time I wished I had the power to get Coach to call the plays. He wanted Wes to throw to me, but the quarterback called the shots once we stepped on the field. He didn’t trust me, and it showed.

I sat in the locker room after the game and waited for the room to clear. Wes was dressed in his dark suit. He had to move over to the press room in a few minutes.

“Hey, man. Can we talk?” I cornered him by the mirrors.

“Yeah. I have a minute. I’m waiting on the golf cart.”

“Look, I know I fucked up last week. But what happened out there today? I can catch the damn ball.”

His hand landed on my shoulder. “You blocked today. That was your job. And you did a damn good job keeping the defenders off our asses. So thank you.” He paused, and his eyes hardened. “But if you ever drop another pass in the end zone again, I swear…”

“Blakefield, they’re ready for you.”

He looked at me. “Catch what I’m saying?”

I glared at him. “Throw me the fucking ball next week.” I walked away from him.

I had it today. I could feel it. Everything was together. I had closed on the new apartment. The construction started tomorrow. It was only a matter of a couple weeks before I could move Natalia in. If he had thrown the ball to me at all, I could have given him twenty yards. But no, the bastard passed it off to Persons or threw it to Stubbs. He used me as a wall.

I picked up my bag. I remembered what Natalia had told me at the cabin. She didn’t let one mistake define her life. She was back in her shoes, preparing for auditions. I couldn’t let one dropped pass be the end of my relationship with the quarterback. I needed him and he needed me.

I lugged my Wranglers bag over my shoulder and stepped into the tunnel outside the locker room. The Fillies were grouped together, talking about going out.

“Hey, Sam.” One of them turned around and waved.

“Hey, Vanessa.” They reminded me of Natalia. I wondered how her halftime show went today. I wondered if she was in the air flying home.

“Want to go get a drink with us?” she asked.

“I think I’ll pass. I’m pretty worn out, girls.”

She pouted. “You never come out with us anymore. Last year you were so much fun.”

Last year I took advantage of every new opportunity. I had rookie fever—no doubt. But I had someone in my life and I wasn’t going to fuck it up.

“Sorry.” I shrugged my shoulders and walked past them. “Maybe next time.” But there wouldn’t be a next time. I was done with the Fillies. I was done with other women. There was only one person meant for me.

* * *

I walked into my apartment and grabbed a beer from the fridge. We had the early game today, so there was still plenty of football to watch. I stretched out on the couch and turned on the TV.

I looked down and saw Natalia’s name light up my screen.

“Hey, baby.” I smiled.

“Hey, we’re stuck.”

I sat forward. “What do you mean stuck?”

“Our jet is down for maintenance or something. That said it’s going to be tomorrow before we can fly out.”

“The Warriors aren’t getting you out of there?”

“No,” she answered. “We have to wait until a part comes in. I don’t know. They aren’t handing out many details.”

“I’ll get a ticket for you. I can fly you in here and then drive you back to Austin in the morning. I’m off tomorrow.”

“I can’t let you do that. I just wanted to let you know what was going on.”

“You can let me do that. It’ll take five minutes for me to get you on a flight out of there. You can be here in three hours.”

“Sam.” Her voice was firm. “What will everyone think if I fly out of here like that?”

“They’ll think you have somewhere important to be. They don’t have to know that place happens to be my bed.”

It made her laugh. “As much as I want to be in your bed tonight, I’m going to have to wait until all the Goddesses can fly out of here together.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t want you on a jet with maintenance problems. This is ridiculous, Natalia. Let me get you out of there.”

She was being stubborn and hard-headed. It was the French side coming out. Although, she said my stubbornness came from being Texan.

“No. We’re going back to the hotel and I’ll call you when I find out more. Okay?”

I took a swig of beer. It wasn’t okay. But she wasn’t playing along.

“All right. But call me as soon as you find out. And if there’s something unsafe about that jet, you’re not getting on it. The Warriors are a bunch of cheap bastards. I don’t want them fixing the plane with duct tape.”

“If I see any duct tape I promise to call immediately,” she answered sweetly, but I knew she was mocking me.

“Should I fly up there?”

“No. God, no,” she whispered. “And get me fired?”

“All right, then take your safety more seriously.”

She huffed. “I’ll call you later.”

“Hey, wait.”

“What is it?”

“I miss you.”

She whispered, “I miss you too.”

Then there was silence.