“First of all, I’m sorry for telling you to leave. It was a mistake. I needed you. I always need you. But I was scared. I didn’t mean to push you away or make you feel like I didn’t want you with me.”
“You didn’t. Was there a part of me that was anxious about it? Sure. I’m an anxious person, and I probably always will be. But I get it. Seriously, I do. You need to navigate this however feels right to you.”
“It never feels right when you’re not there.”
“Well obviously,” I deadpan. “I’m fantastic. But it’s also okay to need someone who isn’t me. That’s why I sent you Jeremy.”
“Thanks for that. I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk to someone who has been where I am. And probably worse off, since I played for double the amount of time he did. And he brought friends.”
I laugh a little. “I thought he might. I’m glad he did. Those three can make anyone feel better about anything. Did they bring food? I told Jeremy to bring food.”
“They did. I think they brought every takeout that’s available in the city. I’ve never eaten tacos and french fries together before, but it doesn’t suck.”
I nod, knowingly. “Because you can’t reheat tacos, and french fries suck when they’re cold and are worse when you heat them up.”
Asher chuckles. “That’s what they said.”
“Yeah, I’ve eaten a lot of takeout with them in my day. I know the drill.”
“Eating was good. And so was Jeremy forcing me to talkabout it but just stick to the facts. You know them. Bad arthritis. Extremely fucked shoulder. I need tons of PT and probably surgery at some point. Maybe a complete shoulder replacement. I won’t ever play in the NFL again.”
I can see his eyes glaze over a little at that, but he seems steadier.
“But I didn’t talk to them about what comes next. It didn’t feel right to talk to them about it first. I want to talk to you. You’re my person.”
It lights me up when he says that. I’m lucky to have a lot of people, but I’ve never had a person before, the way my parents have each other or Ben has Hallie. But now I do. And he is the very best person.
“So, tell me, Hot Shot. What comes next?”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out, and then another one. “Retirement. I’m retiring. I haven’t said that word yet. I didn’t want to say it first to anyone but you.”
“How does it feel to say it?” I ask, hoping it’s the right question.
He seems to really consider it. “Not as scary as I thought it would feel, actually. I don’t know what any of the details are. I still haven’t checked my phone, but I’m sure I have a million missed calls from everyone from my coach to the PR people for the team wondering what the fuck I’m going to do. And I still have to talk to my agent, and I haven’t even told my parents yet, so I’m sure it will be some time before the actual announcement but yeah. I’m retiring. It’s fucking weird to retire when I’m only thirty-one, but I guess now I can buy a sports car and play golf and do all those retirement things.”
I laugh at that. “Do you want to buy a sports car and play golf?”
“Fuck no. Golf is boring as shit, and I love my Range Rover. Those just feel like retirement things.”
“I think whatever things you decide to do are retirement things. And I kind of have a confession to make. It’s embarrassing.”
“Juliette, sweetheart, I just cried all over you for half an hour. You can tell me anything.”
I cringe a little, but decide to just let it out. “Okay, so after dinner with my parents, I was trying to decide what to do with myself. You obviously know this, but I don’t do well with uncertain things. And for pretty much my whole adult life when things are uncertain, I do research and make lists and spreadsheets. And, well, it might make more sense for you to see it.” I grab my phone from the cushion next to me and unlock it before handing it to him.
He scans it before looking back up at me, his face a little incredulous. “Is this…”
“A spreadsheet of what the most successful retired football players are doing in their retirement? Yes.”
“It’s color coded.” His voice is filled with awe, but I still kind of want to hide under the couch.
He locks the phone and sets it down on the couch. “You made me a spreadsheet for my post-retirement career options?”
I nod, thinking that maybe I should have white knuckled it through the anxiety of it all while I was waiting to hear from him. But then Asher picks me up and sits me down on his lap, crushing me to his chest in a hug and burying his face in my hair.
“Fuck, I love you,” he says into my neck. “I love your brilliant, gorgeous brain that now knows what every retired NFL player went on to do with their careers, and I’m so fucking lucky that you get to be mine.”
He pulls back and with his hands tangling in my hair, he presses his mouth to mine in a kiss that is full of passion and fire. He glides his tongue along the seam of my lips, and I openfor him. Sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, he nips it with his teeth and the tiny prink of pain sends a jolt of arousal right between my legs. When he finally slides his tongue inside my mouth to glide against mine, he tastes every part of me until butterflies are rioting in my stomach and a groan rumbles through his chest. Reaching down to my waist, he pushes under my sweatshirt and his hands are so cold that I gasp against his mouth, and start to laugh a little, ruining the moment.
