FALCON: Your funeral.
After his response, I know Falcon will follow through with what I’m asking. He may think its reckless, but if he’s willing to do it, then it won’t be that bad. I have faith in my brother. And I’m ready for the whole world to know I’m taken.
emma
. . .
The notification is right therein my socials, my name is being blasted all over social media and even a few sports news stations.Hawke Sheppard is in a relationship. He is dating his high school sweetheart, Emma Lawson. That is what they are writing, and what is being said. The minute I arrived back in Michigan, I knew something was going on, but I chalked it up to excitement to seeing Hawke after his game. He had also let on that his grandfather had visited him, which I knew was going to happen when I had talked with Falcon. What I did not plan for was the social media shitstorm.
SAM: It's not that bad.
RILEY: I agree. And at least Falcon chose a cute picture of you and Hawke.
ME: Not bad? This is exactly what I didn’t want for him. Not this close to the playoff games and the draft coming up next year.
SAM: Hawke initiated it. He must not be worried.
RILEY: I think it’s hot. He wants everyone to know.
I set my phone down and get ready to confront the man in question in person. The team bus is running late after a delayed flight. I made it back to campus before him with plenty of time to freak out after waking up to the alerts on my phone. When I texted him about it earlier, he didn’t answer. I’m frustrated and scared. Surely this can’t be good for his image before the draft, before his career takes off? Then there is also the part where he did it without asking me if I was okay with it. My name is now connected to his. Once again, my own insecurities are rising to the surface.
I’m pacing by the time Hawke gets home, my nerves are shot and knowing I have a game in a couple hours is slowly driving me crazy. Hawke notices nothing of this, just rushes me once he’s through the door, his arms wrapping around my waist and my feet leaving the ground.
“I missed you.” He breathes me in, holding me close.
I sigh. I may be frustrated with him, but I also missed him and have been counting down the hours until I could see him again. “Put me down, Hawke.”
His shoulders tense and he slowly sets me down, making sure I feel every hard line of his body. “Don’t be mad, Em, please.”
I don’t mean to, but I can’t stop my foot from stomping on the ground. He watches me with a smile on his lips. “I am mad, Hawke. You can’t just do these things without telling me. I woke up to eighty-seven notifications on social media. Calls from my parents, Texts from my brothers. My brothers, Hawke. Theyusually care about their Xbox game more than me, and they reached out. I thought at first someone died.”
“I should have warned you. It was late when I talked to Fal, and I thought I would have time this morning to bring it up to you.” He bows his head, his hands running up and down my arms. “I’m sorry, Emma.”
Ugh, I don’t want him to be sorry. I don’t want him to be rational. I am freaking out over here and he’s acting like this is easy, breezy. “Everyone knows my name now.”
He nods, his hands clasping mine. “And they all know who you belong to, sugar.”
My knees weaken and my stomach heats whenever he calls me that. I refuse to give in though. “And what if this ruins your image? What is the public or your future team going to think?—”
“Emmarys, I don’t give a fuck what the public thinks or anyone I may play for. I love you, and I’m proud to call you mine. Nothing changes that. Who cares if they find out how obsessed I am with you, that for years I’ve been pinning for you, saving myself for you, that I stalked your ass all the way here to Michigan. I don’t give a fuck. Nothing about you and me, changes.” He’s breaking jaggedly, his voice strained.
All my worries and my negative self-talk dims in my mind. I hate that I get so worried. I want to be strong like him, confident in our relationship. “I’m trying, Hawke. I want to not care what anyone thinks. I just get worried about anything affecting your image and your game. Maybe you don’t care, but I wouldn’t be able to stand it if one day you looked at me with disappointment because I ruined your future.”
Hawke reaches for me, his hand grabbing my jaw, the other wrapping around my waist. “I’m good at football, and I love the game, but nothing compares to you and what we have. Nothing you do could hurt my image. I would never blame you foranything. I could lose football tomorrow and I would move on. If I lost you again, Em, I wouldn't be able to survive.”
My throat tightens and my hands run over his chest, before gripping the material of his shirt in my hands. “Can you just tell me next time, first?”
“I promise. I’m sorry it took you by surprise or that you thought something was wrong.” He leans in and kisses me. My mouth meets his just as eagerly.
“I have to get to my game.” I pull back, having completely forgotten the time crunch I’m actually on.
“Shit, I thought we had more time,” he groans and places another kiss on my lips.
“Did you have plans for us?” I ask, leaning up on my tiptoes to playfully nip his lip. Hawke’s hands tighten on my waist.
“I planned to show you how much I missed you. With my fingers, my tongue and then my dick.”
My thighs clench and suddenly I wished I wasn’t playing tonight either. Spending time wrapped up in Hawke sounds so much better. “Later?”