Page 32 of Bound and Blitzed

Kind of me? I’m her fucking husband. What did she think I’d do? Keep all the closet shelves for myself?

Instead of saying that, I let out an exhale. “I need to head to the stadium. I have a meeting with Coach and we’re going over some game tape.”

“Okay.” Valentina nods. “Will you be home for dinner?” There’s a glimmer of hope in her eyes that I hate having to squash.

But there’s no choice.

“Not tonight,” I reply. “Probably not any night this week.”

Her face falls for a heartbeat but in the next blink, she’s masked her disappointment. “No problem. Tonight is the only night that I’ll be home early,” she adds, dropping to her knees and opening one of the boxes. She peers inside, taking stock of its contents, as she adds, “I’ll try to see you at some point tomorrow though.”

“Yeah. If you want, we can grab a coffee in the morning? Or a smoothie?”

“Thanks, but I have a meeting with Dr. Mendoza. I’ll be on campus by eight.”

“Oh, all right,” I mutter. My hand brushes over the top of her head and she gives me a small smile.

It’s as if I’m petting her like a dog and she’s waiting at my feet for the leftover scraps of attention I can toss her way. I hate it and I also hate the guilty feeling that sweeps through my stomach.

I’ve never had this reaction before. Mila always understood that football came first because she was with me before and during the start of my career. We grew up together, and football was always the thing between us, but also something we shared.

Since Mila, I haven’t given a damn about any other woman to care whether she’s felt neglected by the demands of my profession.

But with Lena, knowing I’m leaving her here in my space and hoping she finds a way to make it feel like her home digs at something deeper. It makes me feel like I’m abandoning her to deal with the repercussions of our decision.

Of my marriage proposal.

And it’s stupid because I shouldn’t feel like this. I did her a favor. I got her visa shit sorted.

Still, the sour taste lingers in my mouth, and I clear my throat as I mutter a good-bye and leave the condo.

I drive to the Honeycomb stadium in silence. The past week was a mindfuck. A whirlwind. I celebrated my sister’s engagement, met a woman who I turned my life upside down for, whisked her away on a trip, and then fucking married her.

As the miles between Valentina and me stack up, I let loose a sigh partly filled with relief.

We’ve spent so much time together that I’ve barely had time to process the enormity of my decision. To take stock of my thoughts and feelings on the choice I made.

It’s not that I regret it—I don’t. It’s just that I don’t know what to make of it. Of what to make of Valentina and me.

I park at the stadium and shoulder my bag. Then, I enter the Honeycomb, duck into the locker room, and stow my shit.

A slow clap rings out behind me, and I turn to glance over my shoulder.

“You tied the fucking knot.” Gage Gutierrez grins at me. “You didn’t even fucking invite us to your wedding!”

I smirk back, shaking my head at him. “It wasn’t like that, bro.”

“I’m not mad,” he says, holding out a hand. “Because I heard Cohen wasn’t there either.”

“Our families weren’t even there. We eloped,” I explain.

“Yeah, yeah. But if you’d have rung me, I would’ve flown down.”

“I know it.” I shake his hand and give him a one-armed hug. I thump his back before pulling away. The truth is, Gage would have flown down and I appreciate that about him. He’s a guy’s guy and has always shown up for every member of this team. Maybe it’s because his family is so tight, but he gives that same respect to his teammates. We’re an extension of his family.

“Congratulations, brother.” Gage smacks my back.

“We need to meet your wife and celebrate,” West Crawford adds, entering the space.

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