27. CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 27

“Maybe I want your love forever, is that so bad to say?”

the stars – Chelsea Cutler

Deon

I drop my bag at my locker and book it for the nutrition room, hell-bent on getting one of Addie’s smoothies before they’re gone. Her smoothies are smooth, not a chalky paste like some of the other nutritionists. I also want to bribe her into giving me recipes for my new Ninja Creami.

If anyone has an arsenal of recipes I can use for my machine, it’s Addie.

Whatever I made tasted like dirt. I need insider secrets to make ice cream delicious enough for Nathalie. When she tried mine, she politely swallowed but couldn’t quite hide the disgust on her face.

It mirrored my own.

I am a quarterback, not an ice cream maker.

The chatter in the nutrition room is loud, and I weave through my teammates to Addie, towering over the blender and the other nutritionists. Her auburn hair is plastered against her face as she pours smoothies into cups, and greedy hands dart out to snag them the moment they land on the counter.

One player tries to take the smoothie cup directly from her grip, and the look Addie gives him could curdle blood.

“Hi, Addie,” I say, giving her my most charming smile.

She rolls her eyes.

“One minute.”

Addie spins around, tossing fruit into a blender. I choke at the stickers riddling her back. Hearts, stars, and cartoon characters pepper her polo.

“You have stickers on your back,” I whisper.

“For fucks sake,” she mutters, slapping her arm around her back to peel off the stickers. “I knew that goddamn book was a bad idea.”

She rips one, but the others are stuck on good, so I help her out and peel the remaining ones from between her shoulder blades.

“How’s your morning going?”

“I’m making smoothies for nearly sixty professional athletes who inhale them like they’re air, and I’ve done so covered in stickers.”

I throw my hands up in defense, and she slides a cup across the table.

“Try this.” I take a sip, and tropical fruits dance along my tongue. Bananas and coconut and… “What do you think?”

“What’ s the orange stuff?”

“Passionfruit pulp.” She fiddles with her navy blue Polo, smoothing out the wrinkles and examining herself for any remaining rogue stickers.

I gulp down half the smoothie in one go.

“This is the best one yet.” I lean in conspiratorially. “What do you know about making ice cream?”

Her eyes narrow. “Ninja Creami for Christmas?”

I nod.

“I’ll print out recipes,” she says before darting away to clean up her station.

“Thanks!” I slip out of the crowded room to start mentally preparing for the final game of the season.

We’ve won the division, securing our spot in the playoffs, but I want to play well this game, knowing Nathalie is watching from the comfort of Maren’s couch.

I’m halfway to the locker room when my body is ripped to the left, and I bite back the shriek crawling up my throat. Flailing my limbs, I land a few blows to my attackers, using the time to escape from the vice-like grip I’m being held in.

“My smoothie,” I scream, terrified it’s going to spill while I’m kidnapped.

“Stop fucking flailing, Deon,” a familiar voice hisses.

“This closet is way too small for all of us,” another voice chimes in and I swear I’m going to kill them all.

“Let go of me,” I hiss, spinning to face the three idiots I’ve decided to be friends with. “Why are you dragging me into the equipment room in the dark?”

The light flicks on and I glance down at my cup. Thank god my smoothie survived.

“We need to talk,” Henry says, leaning against a storage shelf.

“I told you that dragging him in like the movies was a bad idea,” Jack says, leaning against the large, industrial-sized washer machine.

Declan stands at the center, a Cheshire smile on his lips. He looks like the version of Declan I know and my chest twists.

“Considering I had to witness your dick windmill around as you scurried through the house last week and I’ve needed time to banish that memory from my mind—”

“Get to the point, Declan,” I say, sipping my smoothie.

There is a reason that he ripped me into the equipment room and Jack and Henry are here.

This is my love intervention.

“When are you going to pull your stubborn ass from your head?” Declan barks, brimming with anger.

My head jerks back in shock. I did not expect him to be angry with me.

“I think he means stubborn head out of your ass,” Henry amends.

“Yes, that!” he yells. “When are you going to pull it out and tell Nathalie that you love her and you want to be with her and you zinged ?!” I quickly realize that this isn’t about Nathalie and I, the way tears brim in his eyes. “There’s a real chance that you could spend your life with someone you love. Why are you throwing it away?”

His shoulders slump and all I can muster up is a slack-jawed response.

“I’ve spent the last few weeks at your house and do you know what I’ve seen?” Declan’s anger returns and my eyes flick to Henry and Jack, who both share looks of concern. Outside of the day Declan found out that Alan died, he’s been stoic about it, numb, even. Now, his rage is clear and aimed in my direction .

“I have a feeling you're about to tell me,” I grumble, finishing my smoothie.

“I’ve seen two people who are clearly in love with each other!” I school my features, letting him release whatever emotions have built up in his chest. Henry squeezes Declan’s shoulder and he shudders a breath. “I-I’m yelling,” he says, as though surprised by that fact.

His eyes are wild and I take a step in the small storage room, wrapping my arms around his chest until we’re in an odd embrace. A choked sob echoes through the tiny room and another set of arms wraps around us as Jack joins the hug. Then another when Henry completes the odd, but comforting dude hug that we’ve got going on.

Declan cries in the center, shoulders shaking.

“I’m all alone now,” he chokes out.

“That’s not true,” Jack counters. “You have us. Maren. Sawyer. Nathalie and her family.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” I agree. “We’re a family.”

He sniffles as he wipes away rogue tears. If someone walked into the room, there would be a massive amount of confusion, but the moment fizzles and Declan stands a bit taller beside Henry’s side.

“If you want to stay with Sawyer and me for a while, we would love to have you,” Henry offers, and Declan nods. “That is if Deon bucks up and tells Nathalie he loves her and you have to leave his guest room.”

Three sets of eyes fall on me and I squirm.

“I-I don’t know how she feels…”

“Have you asked her?” Jack prods and the question makes me feel like a stupid chump. I haven’t asked her and he knows that. They all do .

“It’s not real,” I whisper.

It’s all that bounces around in my mind.

For her, it’s not real .

“For someone with multiple college degrees and one of the highest football IQs I’ve ever seen, you are awfully stupid when it comes to love,” Henry declares and I choke on his insult.

“You used romantic comedy movies to try to determine if Sawyer had feelings for you,” I counter.

“And it worked.” His smile is smug, and I want to tackle him.

“Look.” Jack gives us all a fatherly look of bemused disappointment. “I can’t say for sure how Nathalie feels because I’m not her—”

“Obviously,” Declan chimes in. “You’re much burlier.”

Jack rolls his eyes, chuckling before he continues. “But I’ve spent enough time with both of you to see that there’s something there.”

“We’ve been acting,” I defend.

For a single heartbeat, the room is silent before the three of them cackle like maniacs.

“Acting for who ?” Henry questions between laughs, “The media talked about your love life for all of ten minutes before that crazy mid-season trade happened with Davis Owens, and your five minutes of fame was over.”

I frown, but his words strike true.

“The only thing that you two have been doing is acting crazy and assuming the other couldn’t possibly have feelings,” Declan says, before unnecessarily adding, “You and Nathalie are acting like stubborn, love-sick idiots. Stop it.”

His words hang in the air before they settle deep in my chest, reverberating through my soul.

“You’re saying I might have a shot?”

That’s what he’s suggesting. That Nathalie harbors feelings for me the same way I hold feelings for her.

A collective groan fills the air.

“Christ on a cracker,” Jack mutters, grabbing my shoulders and staring into the depths of my soul with his all-knowing gaze. “Yes, that is exactly what we’re saying.”

Henry rubs his temples and I don’t particularly enjoy being on the other side of these interventions. I’m feeling a bit stupid at the moment.

“She won’t wait forever for you to tell her, Deon.” Declan lowers his voice. “I told you when this all started that her heart is soft. Now, that heart could be yours, so what are you going to do to win it?”

I have no fucking idea .

“What are they doing here?” I ask, entering Donna’s Diner, resigned to this planning meeting. I offered to have it anywhere but here, but I was outvoted.

It’s tradition to talk about our love lives here , Henry whined, It’s only right that we plan your grand gesture here .

I spent the entire practice and film session focused on one thing: finding a way to tell Nathalie that I love her and I want a shot with her.

A real relationship.

I think I have an idea, but I have no way to pull it off alone. Not with the gala next week and her plan to move out right after. Her accelerated timeline makes planning a love confession difficult.

“There’s no way we can pull anything off without them,” Jack says, dragging his wife into a slightly inappropriate kiss for a family-friendly diner. Maren sighs into him and I look away to find Henry and Sawyer in a similar situation.

“This is what you and Nathalie look like if you were curious,” Declan says, sliding into the booth.

“It’s not,” I scoff.

“Whatever you say,” he responds as the rest of the group squeezes into the booth. I’m surrounded by all of my friends and the sudden weight of my decision bears down like a ton of bricks.

Maren claps her hands together, a grin that can only be described as pure glee on her face. “I’ve been told that someone is ready to tell Nathalie that he loves her.”

My gaze swings to Jack and he shrugs. “We need her help.”

“Damn right. Now tell me what your plan is,” Maren demands.

With more nerves than I’ve ever felt before in my life, I explain the loose plan I developed at practice. My focus is on my coffee cream tower when I finish.

“It’s stupid…” I trail off, realizing that the idea is dumb compared to what Nathalie deserves.

Maren demolishes my tower in one swoop and I gasp. When I lift my gaze, all of my friends have small smiles on their faces. Henry nods in approval and Jack gives me a thumbs up.

I turn to Declan, whose opinion matters most. He knows her best and surprisingly, I think he knows me best, also. His lip ticks upward.

“I think it’s perfect,” he declares, gripping my shoulder .

“What if she doesn’t feel the same?” The question is small and there’s no way to hide the fear and vulnerability in it. There’s a chance that this crashes and burns, that I put my heart into her hands and she gives it back.

“Deon, I’m not telling you this because it would betray one of my best friend's trust, but believe me when I say that you will not get hurt if you tell her,” Sawyer says, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand.

With a deep breath, I square my shoulders. They wouldn’t be supporting this and going out of their way to help me plan if they thought it would end poorly.

I’m putting my trust in my friends.

I’m pulling the puzzle box out of the closet and searching one last time for my missing piece.

This is not something I imagined I would do again after what happened with Savannah and my teammates. I also never expected to fall in love again.

But here I am.

Maren whips out a notebook and rapidly scribbles notes. “It’s not a lot of time, but if I order everything you need today, I think we can make it happen the day after the gala. Does that work?”

I nod, handing over my credit card.

That gives me a week to figure out exactly how to tell Nathalie that I want a life with her.

A lifetime with someone I love.