Page 51 of QB Keeper
My eyes go wide. “Really? I never thought about specifically doing game day fashion. I always saw myself as more ofa ready-to-wear designer. Do you really think I could do couture?”
“Are you kidding?” Dia says. “This is yourthing, Grace. You’re a natural at it. And the fact that you made it in just a couple of days is even more impressive.”
I can’t believe what they’re saying. I always just assumed that maybe someday, my pieces could be sold in boutiques. I’d make unique designs, but then they’d be mass produced in as many sizes as the distributor ordered and placed on racks next to hundreds of others. But this would be so much different. I’d be able to make exactly what the customer wanted, to their exact measurements. Nobody would be excluded.
“Holy shit,” I say on a laugh. “Maybe I will.”
Dia chuckles. “I bet Daddy Tanner would invest in your new business.”
I furrow my brows in confusion. “Daddy Tanner?”
“Oh my God, Diamond. She’s new. You’re going to scare her away with your stupid theories,” Mads says, rubbing her temples in annoyance.
“What?” Dia asks. “The people want to know. And by people, I mean me.”
I look between them. “Want to knowwhat?”
Mads blows out a breath. “My best friend here seems to think Tanner is some kind of sex god. That he’s into whips and chains, and has a pierced dick.”
My eyes go wide and I freeze where I’m sitting.Oh, shit. What do I say?
“She literally called him thefinal boss of daddy doms,” Bella adds with a giggle.
My palms are sweating and my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls as I laugh nervously. I’m obviously terrible at hiding things, because they see right through it.
“I told you!” Dia yells, jumping from her seat. “Pay up, bitches!” She walks over to Bella and Mads and they eachhand her a hundred-dollar bill before she shoves them into her bag and sits back down.
I don’t confirm or deny anything because as I look down onto the field, the lights dim and the fans go wild.
“And now! Your Boston Blizzard!” says the announcer as the team shoots out of the tunnel. My eyes lock on Tanner as he runs to the opposite end zone, hyping up the people in the stands as they scream. They fucking love him. And so do I.
The girls line up next to me, watching their guys as they go through warm-up drills. Maverick points up to the suite and Bella blows him a kiss in return. I look between them, smiling because they’re so adorable.
I look back just in time to see Blaze catch an easy pass, patting his hand over his heart. Mads smiles, then walks toward the snack bar in the back of the room.
“My turn,” Dia says, sliding in next to me. I’m confused, but I look to the field where Dalton locks his eyes on her, wiggling his left hand. She does the same, her large diamond wedding ring glinting in the light.
“What is that?” I ask.
“Oh!” Bella says. “That’s their way of saying they love us from the field. They all have a little signal so we know they see us.”
I swoon. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”
It makes me wonder what Tanner’s would be if we had one. I look down, smiling as he lines up behind the center and taps his left toe behind him. I remember from watching him in high school that a player should be moving after he does it, but no one does. On the next rep, he does it again. I focus on the movement because he does it before every single play, and it draws my eyes to his tattoo.Our lighthouse.
Maybe.
“Mads?” I say, calling her back over because she knows this game better than anyone I’ve ever met. “Shouldn’t a player be in motion when Tanner does that with his foot?”
“Yep,” she replies, taking a bite of cheese and setting it down on her plate. “I thought it was the weirdest thing at first because he’s done it before every single play, so I asked Blaze and he said it’s a personal thing. Nobody knows why he does it.”
“Did he do it in college?” I ask. I have to know if it started before or after me.
“I’ve watched his highlight reels and it looks like he didn’t do it a single time before his senior year. Didn’t you watch him play back then?”
I never watched him play after he left. My parents made it to some of his home games the following season, and our dads are loyal Blizzard fans, but I couldn’t bring myself to watch with them because I knew it would hurt too much. I avoided football at all costs. Of course there were occasions when he’d show up on the news or on the cover of a sports magazine, but I did my best to get away before I really got to see or hear him. I knew if I started, I’d fall down a rabbit hole and it would bring me back into the dark place I had to claw my way out of once I realized he wasn’t coming back.
“No,” I whisper, looking down as he does it again, this time, looking up toward the suite. I know he can’t see the details of my expression, but if he could, he’d know just how much that gesture means to me. He wanted to tell me he loved me, even when he didn’t know if I’d see it. Every game that we’ve been apart, he’s spoken to me.
