Page 49 of Catching Feelings

Never in my life have I struggled with concentration. Okay. That’s a lie. In school, I struggled on the daily. But on the field? Never.

Not during practice, not during film, never the fuck during a game.

Today’s lift was a shit show. I hadn’t paid attention to the weight I was lifting or how many reps I did.

It wasn’t until Dec called me out for being a pussy when I only had two hundred pounds racked on the Smith machine that I realized I’d spaced out while brainstorming date ideas.

Even now, driving home after practice, I missed two turns because I mentally weighed out the pros and cons of asking her to go to a festival in western Mass I learned about online, or to a wine tasting in Connecticut.

This is what coach’s warnings were all about in college. Don’t let a girl mess with your head. Your time on the field is limited. If you’re lucky and escape injury, you’ll get four years at college.

If you heed coach’s warnings, work your ass off twenty-four-seven, including off season, and you’re lucky enough to have some God-given talent, you may get drafted into the NFL.

If you’re lucky enough to get a contract, you could get some playing time your first year. And if all the gods and stars or whatever the hell you believe in align, you could have a career as a professional football player.

I’ve been one of the lucky ones. Not necessarily because of my God-given talent; I’m nowhere near the caliber of the top tight ends in the NFL—past or present—but I do alright.

The years in therapy Aunt Lynn forced upon me in middle and high school paid off. Instead of getting sucked down a vortex of depression, drugs, or whatever the hell else preyed on parentless kids, I forced myself to be a class clown.

Laughter detracted me from the shit hole my life was, and it made my aunt and sister happy. As a teen who felt responsible for caring for the women in my life, that was always my sole focus. To make them happy.

Aunt Lynn needed me to stay active, so she signed me up for every sport ever offered, and football was the one that clicked.

Because of my size, I played basketball too, but I didn’t have the focus to be a starter. I liked playing defense, and even sitting on the bench, cheering on my teammates.

With football, I only had to be on the field when the offense was up. I needed to be active but also have some downtime to clown around with my teammates.

Being the team cheerleader has always been my thing. Even during film, I’m the one to crack jokes or razz the guys about anything and everything.

It was either that or let my mind wander to the worst day in my life. A scene I can never unsee. I needed—and still need—laughter in my world or I feared I’d never come out of the dark hole.

Ironically, goofing around kept me centered. Even now into adulthood. I know when to keep my mouth shut though. When Coach is in a mood, or our team has fucked up and we’re getting our asses handed to us, I keep my jokes to a minimum.

Or at least on the down low so none of the coaching staff can hear me. My teammates? Yeah, I want them to hear. Laughter is the best medicine and all. Hard games, losses, injuries, all that shit can get in your head and affect not only your performance on the field, but your personal life as well.

It’s why I don’t sweat the small stuff. And in my world, everything is small compared tothatday.

Channeling my inner comedian is easy on most days, but lately a gorgeous brunette with the sweetest brown eyes and the most erotic mouth I’ve ever fantasized about has been taking up too much real estate in my noggin.

Correction. Nottoomuch. There’s never too much Rowan. The problem is not enough Rowan McDaniels in my life.

I’ve had my share of women since I hit puberty, but never have I longed to be with someone like this.

I’ve dated supermodels, actresses, singers, and women who could grace the cover of Playboy, but none of them distracted me from football.

Never have I looked forward to planning a date. Looked forward to sex? Hell, yeah. My cock loves a woman’s attention.

But looking back now, I don’t think I’ve ever dated a woman. Dinner, maybe a movie, and most definitely sex.

Never a hike. Never a night of just hanging out that didn’t start and end with one or both of us naked.

It’s not like I’m opposed to relationships, or even dating, but my focus has been on my family, myself, and football. And all require me to be on my A-game.

Something I’m not giving right now.

***

Idon’t want to giveRowan the easy way out of turning me down, so I find her car in the parking garage next to the pediatric office she works in and wait.

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