Page 86 of Catching Our Moment
“He’s at practice,” I said. “They cleared him this week and are starting him this weekend. They want him back in time for the playoffs.” While the team had managed to squeeze in a shot at the playoffs, they’d been plagued with injured players. For there to be any chance of the team advancing, they needed him back.
He explained it to me while we were curled up in bed this morning, and I expressed my misgivings about him returning. While he sat out for the suggested recovery time for a normal man, his demands on his body weren’t normal. He was a well-paid athlete in a contact sport. Football players were expected to heal faster. But as a PT, I couldn’t help but compare it to reassembling a stock car with duct tape and a prayer, sending it out on a racetrack and expecting it to not only hold together but perform at a high level as it was tossed around the track, long enough to capture the checkered flag.
In the early morning hours, he kissed the top of my head, whispering softly, “This is my job, hon.”
I didn’t have the heart to break our bubble of happy contentment by suggesting that maybe his thirty-something body was ready for a career change or ask how many more years of this he thought his body could take.
Grace voiced my concerns. “Isn’t it too soon for him to be back?”
I shrugged. “He said it’s just a few more games, and then he will have the off-season to fully heal.” I stood and took the laptop with me into the kitchen. “From what I’ve heard, his contract is up at the end of this season, and his agent has concerns.”
“Well, at least you’re down there with him,” Grace said.
“Yeah, you can kiss his boo-boos and rub him down afterward,” Aliya said.
I rolled my eyes at her. “He has an entire training and medical staff here to do that. I’m here strictly as his…um?—”
“Girlfriend,” they said in unison.
I began to shake my head when Aliya added, “Uh-uh…you’re Dawson Shawfield’s girlfriend. You need to get that through your head. Because you’re going to be around a bunch of people questioning who you are to him.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do,” Aliya said, sitting closer to her screen. “You need to own this. You’re his. He is yours. This isn’t our small town where he’s just Shaw. In Charlotte, he’s Dawson Shawfield—a football star. You need to be ready to pull out your bad bitch self.”
“She gets it. Don’t freak her out,” Grace said quietly.
Aliya wasn’t pulling any punches. “I’m serious. You need to find that confident, take-no-prisoners self you haven’t used in a while and dust her off. There are a lot of women who would want to be in your place—women who dream of being the center of his focus, his desires.” She wasn’t letting up. “Many who think they should be on his arm, in his bed?—”
I held out my hand, not wanting to think of the gorgeous women he’d probably had in his bed before. “I know, I know. I dealt with that all throughout college and even high school.”
“Yeah, but these women make a profession out of it.”
Grace stepped in. “Don’t worry. It will be fine. Just be yourself, and don’t let anyone get in your head or push you around. What are your plans tonight?”
“We’re meeting his friend Davy and his girlfriend. She lives in Chicago but is in town for the weekend.”
“See. Another long-distance relationship.” Grace’s face lit up with positivity, “Good. You can see how they handle it.”
“Sounds like Shaw has the right idea,” Aliya said. “So, now the good stuff. How’s the sex?”
Grace shook her head. “I don’t want the graphic details. This is Shaw.”
“I don’t need to know what his dick looks like. I’m just wondering if all the years of banked chemistry and anticipation were worth it,” Aliya said.
I put my hand over my mouth in a ridiculous attempt to stop my smile.
Both my best friends’ smiles widened. “Oh, yeah…” Grace said. “It was worth it.”
Aliya erupted into a laugh as she fist-pumped the air. “Yes! I want at least some details!”
The door to the penthouse opened and closed. “Kelce?”
“Saved by the man of the hour.” Grace winked.
“This conversation isn’t over,” Aliya said. “But I’m so happy you both finally jumped each other.”
Shaw came into the kitchen and peered over my shoulder to our friends, “Hello, ladies. Am I interrupting girl talk?” He kissed my cheek as if it was a part of our daily activity, before grabbing a bottle of flavored water from the fridge.
