“Yep.”
“You majored in biology?”
“Sure did. With a minor in physics.”
“But, why?”
He shrugs. “I wanted to be a doctor.”
I stare at the side of his face. “You…huh?”
He chuckles. “You really did think I was just a dumb jock, didn’t you?”
I shift, uncomfortably. “I mean, not dumb but…I thought all football players sort of coasted through college, studying just enough so they stayed eligible to play. Why kill yourself if you knew you were going to the NFL?”
“I didn’t always know that.”
I scoff at that. “Come on. I grew up in Pittsburgh. I’m a lifelong football fan. I remember when you were drafted. Phenom quarterback out of the University of Boulder, standout all four years of college, started every game all four seasons, third overall draft pick. There was no way you weren’t making it to the NFL.”
He lays a hand on my leg and just rests it there. “Please feel free to keep reciting my stats to me. It’s hot as fuck, Juliette.”
“I would, but I really want to know why you thought you needed such an intense backup plan when your future seemed so clear.” I’m practically burning with the need to know this fact. For some reason, it feels like this little piece of information will unlock a piece of Asher that I desperately want to understand.
He sighs, shifting in his seat, his grip tightening on my leg. “My whole life has been football. Ever since the first time I held a ball when I was five or so years old, I’ve loved it. I loved playing on a team, and I loved throwing a football around with my dad and my sisters in the backyard. The game is a part ofme. It always has been. The thing is, football didn’t always come naturally to me. I’ve never been the biggest, or the strongest, or the fastest. But what I was, was the hardest worker. I would get to practice early, leave late, and workout on off days. I studied playbooks when I should have been sleeping and then fell asleep watching tape of our opponents.”
This, at least, I completely understand. “You wanted it more than anything, so you worked your ass off to get it. If you didn’t get it, it wasn’t going to be because you didn’t work hard enough.”
He nods. “You understand.” He says it like a declaration, like he knows he can give me this truth and I’ll see him. My heart suddenly feels like it’s too big for my chest. I put my hand over his, and he turns his over, lacing our fingers together.
“So, since I had to work so hard for it, I didn’t take anything for granted. Not like the guys on my team who were born with a football in their hands and never doubted they would make it. I never looked at the NFL as a certainty, and I wanted to have a plan, in case it didn’t work out. But not just a fallback plan, a real second option that I could be as passionate about as I was about football.”
“Medicine.”
He nods. “Medicine. My dad is a surgeon, and my older sisters Charlie and Annie are both doctors. I love science, and I’ve always been fascinated by my dad’s job. When I was a kid, he would sometimes bring me to the hospital and let me come with him to round on his patients, and those are some of my best memories. Before I realized the NFL might be an option for me, I knew I would go to medical school. I guess I kind of started college with two dreams and wanted to make sure I could make one of them come true.”
I’m a little stunned at the thoughtful way he approached his career, but I realize I probably shouldn’t be. This is a manwho brought me back from a panic attack and took me on a road trip so I could take a break from work I desperately needed but wouldn’t ever have taken on my own. A man who has stopped at nothing to make sure that I have everything I could need or want. Who has worked so hard to make sure I’m happy. Who seems to see me without me having to say a word. He is nothing but thoughtful. I get the sudden urge to pepper him with questions; to learn every single thing about this man who is so much deeper and more complex than he lets on. But he is taking his time with me, and he deserves the same in return. So, I start small.
“What kind of doctor did you want to be?”
He grins. “Pediatrician.”
“Somehow that makes perfect sense.”
“Right? I love kids. They’re so fun and funny and they still think everything is magic. I try and volunteer where I can; I make a lot of trips to Children’s Hospital, and I’m working with Jeremy a little during the offseason on the camps he’s setting up.”
“Would you ever think about going to medical school when you retire one day?”
He stiffens a little at that and rolls his right shoulder in a move I’ve been noticing more and more as the days go by. I’m still curious about it, but don’t want to pry too deep, too soon.
“I don’t think so. It’s a lot of school and training, and I’m already thirty-one, so by the time I retire and start school, I’d be a pretty old doctor. Also, I miss my family and my sisters keep having babies, and if I go to med school, I’ll have even less time to see them than I do now. So as much as I would have loved to be a doctor, I’m happy with the path I chose. I don’t regret it for a second. All in all, I’m a pretty lucky guy.”
“God, how did you get so emotionally healthy? I’ve never known a guy like you.”
He smiles and shrugs. “It’s probably the four sisters.”
“I can’t wait to meet them.” I squeeze his hand when I realize this is the absolute truth. I want to know here this man came from. I want to know everything about him.
Asher’s phone rings again then, the same number that rang before. He rejects the call and just like last time, it rings again, and he rejects that one too. My stomach does a little flip wondering who might be trying to get in touch with him. Whoever it is, they clearly want to reach him pretty badly, so why doesn’t he want to pick up the phone?
