Page 72 of The Long Game

Don’t worry girl, he’s about to be up for grabs.

“Looks like there’s a table open outside, want to sit out there?” I suggest.

“Sure, after you.”

He holds the door open as I walk through. We jump into our weekends, both of us working most of it. We’re headed for a break in the conversation, the part where you realize you need to get back to work so you make plans to meet up again later. Only, this is where I tell him that I shouldn’t see him anymore.

“Do I even want to ask?” he says, his eyes connecting with mine.

“He bought a house here. He took me to see it.” He nods at my explanation.

“Listen, I get what he’s doing, and I know what he wants. Any straight, single guy with any sense would want you, Lexi. You’re, by definition, the ultimate catch. And I wish his timing had been a lot longer down the road… or frankly, never. My only regret is that I waited too long to seek out the beautiful woman who worked across the building from me, who brightened up my day with her wave and warm smile.

“I wish I had been given more time with you so we could have found out if I was a true contender. I think that’s something Iwill always wonder. I can’t fight against familiarity and history. Something the Super Bowl star has in spades,” he says with disappointment in his tone.

“Honestly. I wish all those things, too. It’s funny though… I don’t think of him as a Super Bowler. I should; it is a huge accomplishment. He will always just be the sixteen-year-old Tucker who let me ‘third-wheel’ it with him and my brother, who shared his bubblegum ice cream with me and who somehow always instinctively knew when I was in trouble, physically and mentally.

“No matter how much I want to fight against my feelings, no matter how much I want to throw in the towel and give up on all the years we didn’t make it work, I just can’t – not yet. Not until I see this last chapter through to the end. I gave him a part of my heart a long time ago, and I’ve been too scared to ask for it back. Too scared to close that door with him.”

He doesn’t flinch, he’s just listening and taking in everything I have to say.

“I’m helping him remodel his house during his off season. In July he goes back for training camp. This is it for me. If we can’t make it this summer, we can’t make it.” I shake my head at myself. This poor guy doesn’t want to hear this shit. “God! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to verbally vomit all of that to you…”

“No, do not apologize. I’m glad to know where you are with everything. I do hope you get your happy ending. Just don’t be surprised if you find me on the sidelines, in July, waiting for him to fuck up.”

I laugh, “Thank you, Sebastian. And if things were different…”

He cuts me off again as he stands to leave, looking down at me with a slight tinge of disappointment in his eyes.

“I know,” he says and then he turns to leave.

I just walked away from the perfect man. But is he truly perfect if he’s not the one I picture my life with? If he’s not the one tofight for me tooth and nail, willing to plow down any obstacle in his path to be by my side?

When my imagination flashes forward to the next ten years, the only man I see pulling into my driveway after a long day at work, the only man I picture coaching our kids little league games, is Tucker. I can’t seem to erase it and more importantly, I don’t want to.

Chapter Twenty

Two Weeks Later…

Tucker

Tucker: What time do you want me over? Should I grab groceries on my way?

I couldn’t fucking wait to get back into Chicago. The second the reels stopped running on our game yesterday, I was out of the media room, leaving my teammates behind as I jumped in my truck and high tailed it to Lexi.

I knew she wouldn’t be getting off work by the time I got into town, so I booked a personal training session with my buddy Desh.

He started his own gym a few years ago and his clientele has boomed since then. He has some big name athletes and celebrities on the books these days. He’s earned it.

This is the perfect way to blow off steam and get my head right before I head over to Lexi’s. Desh usually has good advice too and since he, Luca, and I have been good friends for over a decade, he has a little background knowledge on Lexi and me.

Lexi: No need. My dad offered to grill, and my mom said she’ll make your favorite peach cobbler. Meet me at my parents around 6:30?

Tucker: We’re not making dinner at your place?

Lexi: I thought it would be easier to eat with them. I have all my old sketches there and it’s your first night back at the Benson house. It’s a good chance to settle in.

It doesn’t feel like she’s doing this for my benefit. Something tells me she is using her parents as a buffer.

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