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Chapter 4

FOUR

“Please tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing—again?”

I press the side button to darken the screen of my phone and look up at Dom. Romel and Gabe put their stuff in the cubbies we’re using while we’re visiting Seattle and come over to join us.

“Are you still trying to find her? I thought you gave up on that weeks ago?” Gabe asks, his brow furrowed with worry. He’s a beast of a man, huge and scary looking on the field, but he’s the biggest softie of us all. Since he found love, he’s gotten even softer, which I wasn’t sure was possible.

I toss my phone into my cubby and scrub my face. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

It’s been almost a month since my night with Lexi, and not a single day goes by where she doesn’t cross my mind. I spent days after our night together searching for her online. I’ve searched so frequently all I have to do is type the letter L and my phone’s suggested word spits out her name. I even went back to the club multiple nights in a row hoping she’d come back. Every time, I left alone and disappointed.

It’s like she was a figment of my imagination, and it’s driving me crazy. The bitterness of waking up to find her gone dissipated quickly, leaving a hollow ache and an endless desire to find her. That night was the best night of my life. There’s no way she didn’t feel the connection between us, the spark of chemistry I’d seen my friends find but wasn’t sure I ever would—only to find it in the woman who left without so much as a note or her last name.

The only thing I haven’t tried is hiring a private investigator, and that’s only because I mentioned the idea to the guys and they all looked at me like I was certifiable.

They’re probably right. Hiring a PI to find a one-night stand is a little creepy.

Clearly she doesn’t want anything to do with me, and that idea is the most disappointing of all. I thought our connection was stronger than that, undeniable even, but I guess it was one-sided.

Now if only I could figure out how to stop thinking about her all the damn time.

Romel sits down next to me and claps me on the back. “Listen, man, I know you liked this girl, but it’s clear she’s not interested. You need to respect that and let her go.”

My heart sinks, but I know he’s right.

“I really thought she was different.”

“We know,” they say in unison, and I look up at them, all their expressions sympathetic.

“I’ve been talking about her too much, haven’t I?”

Dom laughs. “Dude, every time I look at you when we aren’t on the field, you’re on your damn phone searching for her.”

Truthfully, I didn’t think she’d be so hard to find, but I’m not even sure she has a social media profile at all. I’ve scrolled through thousands of Lexis in Los Angeles, and not a single one was her. I even Googled “Lexi Teacher Los Angeles” and still couldn’t find her.

I stare at my phone in the locker as resignation washes over me.

“It’s time, man,” Gabe says.

“I know.” There’s no way to miss the disappointment in my voice. I don’t want to stop searching for her. I’ve never had a connection with anyone like I had with her, but I can’t deny they’re right. If she wanted to see me, she would’ve left a note with her number or something. How would she even respond if I did find her and reach out? Would she be upset? The idea makes my stomach clench. The last thing I want to do is make Lexi uncomfortable.

I swallow thickly. “It’s time to let her go.”

They nod and pat me on the back before going back to their lockers and getting ready for the game. I suit up in silence while the rest of the room is filled with the guys talking and laughing. I’ve always been good about compartmentalizing and keeping my head focused on football when I’m on the field, but today it’s especially hard to get into that mental state.

The loss of her the morning after was hard enough, but the idea of really letting go of her is so painful it makes my chest ache. I’ve been through breakups with girlfriends that I didn’t feel as viscerally as I feel the loss of giving up on Lexi.

By the time we rush out onto the field, my head is still not as focused as it should be. A hand grips my pads, and I look up to find Romel looking at me, concern clear in his dark-brown eyes. “Put all that emotion you’re feeling and let it loose on the field. Every tackle, let a little bit of it go. Leave it all out there, but channel it. Don’t let it bring you down. Use it to drive your every move. Got it?”

I stare at him for a second and then truly absorb what he’s telling me. Is that how he got through losing his wife? I think back to what a wreck he was when she died. It was the offseason, but when preseason started he was still a mess. Yet I can’t think of a single time when he didn’t perform on the field. As I stare into the eyes of one of my closest friends, I see something I haven’t noticed in a long time. All the pain and grief he must still feel over her death.

“Is that what you do?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

“Every single time,” he says.

I nod and he lets me go. I let my gaze wander over the full seats, the sea of green and blue, the low buzz of thousands of voices as people fill the stadium. I close my eyes, take a deep inhale, and then let the breath out slowly, the sound disappearing as my usual focus takes over.

The game starts, and our defense is on the field first. I get into position, letting every ounce of disappointment, regret, frustration, anger, and hurt build in my body until every muscle feels like it’s humming with it. The ball snaps and I move, my gaze focused on my target, even as I’m aware of the other players scattering around me. The quarterback throws the ball straight to the guy I’m supposed to be covering, and the ball is barely in his grasp when I tackle him, bringing him down to the ground hard, my body jolting from the force of hitting the unforgiving ground. I get up and walk away, shaking off some excess energy as my focus sharpens even further.

The next play is the same. Until finally, the quarterback stops throwing the ball anywhere near me. It doesn’t matter. Our defense is solid, and every player is in the zone today. We shut them down at every turn, and by the end of the game, it’s clear they’re exhausted while we’re feeling on top of the world.

The locker room is chaotic after we pull off the win, but I can’t feel the same level of joy because all that’s left after putting all my emotions on the field is an exhausted and empty feeling permeating every inch of my body. I sit on the bench in front of my cubby, letting my head hang, my chin nearly tucked to my chest as I try to remember what I felt like before I met Lexi. One night with a woman should not fuck my head up this badly.

Romel stops beside me.“You did good out there.”

“Thanks.”

He watches me for a moment and then pats me on the back again, his voice dropping so no one else can hear. “The hollow feeling gets easier after a while.” And then he walks away and heads over to the showers while I’m left sitting with a whole new respect for one of my closest friends.

I had no idea this is what he deals with every game, and I can’t help but think he’s stronger than I ever gave him credit for. Because this feeling?

It fucking sucks.

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