Page 5 of Fumbling in the Dark

“I’ve just been focused on football, man,” I say, focusing on putting my gear back into my locker.

“Really? And not pining over Shelby?” he asks me with one eyebrow arched.

“No,” I answer quickly, maybe a littletooquickly.

“Man, she is not worth this sadness. She broke it off months ago. The reason was bullshit too. You had to move away from your town to Vegas and she didn’t even give you a chance. And on draft night? Come on, man, that’s bullshit.”

I know he’s right. She isn’t worth my time. My brothers had been telling me this for years. She’s always demanded my attention and would get mad when I needed to focus on football. And here’s the biggest kicker, or “red flag” as my sister-in-law Mya would say—she would get upset when my family needed me.

“You never put me first,” is a phrase that she would say on repeat. Which wasn’t even remotely accurate, but she would never listen when I tried to talk with her about it.

My brain knows that I should be glad that I’m not with her anymore and that I can be here, in Vegas, without any baggage. That this is the time for me to live my life formeand football, but my heart still feels crushed. Not because I miss her. No, I miss being part of anus.

I’m a one girl kind of man and believe it or not, it can be hard to find someone. Especially someone who is interested in me and not just the fact that I play football.

I’m actually very awkward, especially when it comes to the opposite sex. I have no game. I mean, I do when it comes to football. And video games? One hundred percent.

But ladies? Nope, not even close. All my brain cells leave my head. Anyone will tell you that. Teammates have literallylaughed watching me pick up a woman. The only reason I ended up with Shelby was because we had a mutual friend who’d introduced us. It’d made me relax. She would talk about football with me, and I thought that meant she was interested in what I enjoyed. When, in reality, all she cared about was the status I brought her being a football player’s girlfriend. The funny part was that she didn’t like it when I became really good, either.

After Shelby broke up with me, I decided that was it. I didn’t have time for relationships, and I would try to get out more. I did it once and it was fucking exhausting. Is it too much to ask for my soul mate to be dropped into my lap? Probably.

Blowing out the air in my lungs, I know I need to say something, but I must’ve been quiet long enough because Kade talks first. “Why don’t you come out with me tomorrow night?”

My body tenses up at his suggestion. I don’t want to go out. “I don’t know, man—” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“Shane, you need to get out. Not just for your sake, but everyone else’s too. You need to make friends with the team. How else do you expect us to win?”

Grabbing my bag out of my locker, I shut it and turn toward him. “Fine. What are you doing?” I ask, exasperated at the fact that Kade won’t just leave me alone.

“First, a drink at Moe’s with a few of our teammates, then a girl I’m talking to shows up with her friend,” he says, raising both of his brows up and down.

“Okay. I’ll go. Will you leave me alone now?” I ask him, lifting my duffel bag over my shoulder.

“You know I won’t,” he says. “But this is a start. We’ll have you out of this funk before you know it.”

“Whatever, man. Just text me what time and shit.” I leave without another word. It’s time for me to go home and rest. The start of the season will begin soon, and I need to make sure I’m in top shape.

Chapter four

Janae

Today started off like any other day. I got up, dressed and went to work. That’s when it seemed like it took a nosedive. Every single person in Vegas who forgot and wanted to get last minute flowers has either called me or has been rude to me, like this man now.

“Do you have any more roses?” an older gentleman asks me as he pushes up his glasses.

This feels like the hundredth person to come into this shop asking me about flowers today. Don’t they realize that ordering flowers on Valentine’s Day isnotgoing to work? Our inventory of roses was reserved for weeks in advanced, though people like this man don’t seem to care.

“I’m sorry, we are out of roses. Can I get you some daisies instead?” I ask him while plastering on a smile, hoping that he doesn’t see how much his attitude rubs me wrong.

I watch as the man runs his hands through his hair. Trying to keep his anger back, he replies to me through clenched teeth,“No. I want roses or at least something that screams ‘Valentine’s Day.’”

I lean forward, resting my elbows against the counter when I lock eyes with him, and my smile drops. Pretending to look at a clock behind him, I begin, “I’m going to say this one last time and maybe you’ll get this through your head. Considering it’s five o’clock onactualValentine’s Day. No. We don’t have any flowers that areactuallyfor Valentine’s Day. They have all been ordered for weeks.”

I push back from the counter and plaster on a smile once more. “Now, can I get you a bouquet of daisies?”

The man in front of me drops his head, muttering, “Yes. That will be fine.”

“Great. Let me get those for you,” I say, leaving him where he stands and heading into the back room to the refrigerator.

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