“Absolutely.” I stared at the phone in my hand, failing to control the excitement growing inside me. Because while I knew I’d eventually make it to the Super Bowl, I wasn’t so sure that I’d ever get Kelcie at one of my games.
“Shaw, my man, what’s up with you and that goofy-ass smile on your face? Was that Riley? Did she tell you how much she l-o-v-e-s you?” Davy Johnson, the team’s veteran running back and my pain-in-the-ass friend, was making kissy noises and puckering up in my face—not many men were brave enough to do that—as I walked into the trainer’s area in the locker room on game day.
“Cut it out, man,” I said half-heartedly, my mind on my guests in the skybox, settling in for the game.
Honestly, even with my girlfriend, Riley, or anyone else, I never got nervous or excited before a game. But today… “I just got off the phone with Kelcie, setting things up for her and her son. Good call on the skybox.”
Davy nodded once, knowingly. “Glad it worked out. We used to have to do it when my nephew came to watch. Even then, getting through the crowds was rough, and some days, he just wasn’t up for it.”
I nodded. I was feeling entirely out of my depth. I wasn’t even a father, so how would I have any experience with helping a child on the spectrum deal with challenging environments?
“You are more skittish than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs,” Davy said when we both were laid out on the trainer’s table, getting our ankles taped before the game.
I cracked my knuckles and shook out my hands. Mo, my favorite trainer, stared at me with impatience in her eyes and a scolding tone. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault you’re running late.”
I grimaced. “I know. Sorry.”
“Is everyone settled?” Davy asked, leaning back on the table.
I shifted so the trainer could tape my foot. “I got Aaron and Kelcie matching jerseys—well, I got the whole crew jerseys. When I called to check on them, Aaron was watching game footage in the box, waiting for the game to start, and eating French fries.” I cracked my knuckles again. “Kelcie didn’t think it was a good idea for me to see them before the game.”
“Too much stimulation for the kid?”
“No. She was afraid he’d mess with my mojo. She said he would pick apart my game and get in my head.” I shrugged.
Davy stared at me, bemused. “What? He’s just a kid.”
I shook my head. “I know, but that’s what she said. And trust me, if he’s anything like her or her dad, his filter will be nonexistent when they are talking football. Kelcie’s nickname in high school was Sergeant for a reason. She made guys cry before they made it off the field.”
“Dang. And you had a thing for this girl?”
I shrugged, and the routine response came easily. “We were just friends,” I said, studying the trainer's work on my foot.
“You never?—”
“Nope. Nothing.”
“You ever think about it?”
I stood up, refusing to discuss this with him. “We were kids. It was a lifetime ago.”
“Yeah, you thought about it,” Davy said, and I heard the smile in his tone as I walked away to get dressed for warm-ups.
As I made my way to the field to stretch for the pre-game, I looked up. There wasn’t anyone in the seats, and the sliding door to the interior of the box was closed. Kelce told me they would sit inside and allow Aaron to acclimate. I wished I had seen the matching jerseys…
It’d been so long since she’d worn a jersey of mine. It had been a long-held tradition that she was the only girl who ever got to wear my high school and college jersey until my number had been licensed and sold to the public. Then, I lost all control of who could buy it. But I never gave another woman a jersey of mine to wear. Only Kelcie.
I’d lost girlfriends over that. I could give them my sweatshirt, jacket, whatever, but the minute they started to demand the jersey…well, it was an issue.
When we first started dating, Riley wore my jersey to the first game. But once she was invited to sit with the WAGS (wives and girlfriends), that stopped. She said she wanted to look her best for me, not like just another fan. I think it had more to do with the fact that the camera occasionally cut to the WAGs' suite when one of us made an amazing play, and Riley always wanted to stand out.
As I stretched out my calves, my mind wandered back to that skybox and the day we’d first met during the first high school football practice.
Kelcie ran the warm-ups and did stretches with the guys like a boss. Half the size of most of the boys on the team, she demanded their undivided attention and their submission.
I walked on the field with Tyler as the new kid in town. Tall and thin enough to be blown over in a summer storm, I had enough trouble walking with my disproportionately large feet, let alone running drills, without tripping.
I shifted into lunges as I smiled at the memory of her yelling at me when I wasn’t doing a stretch correctly, singling me out, and the heat on my face hadn’t been from the summer sun.
