22. Tanner

TWENTY-TWO

TANNER

"Huddle up!" I yell to the offense. They all gather around, looking to me for the next play. It's the second week of fully padded practices, and Coach Mills is insistent that we play situational football today in order to prepare for the season. So, we're out here with our starting offense playing against our starting defense, simulating a real game. It's not exactly the same, considering we both pull from the same playbook, but it's better than just doing run-throughs with our positions' coaches. Thankfully, even though we're padded, the defense isn't allowed to hit us. Which is really working for me today, considering my o-line is a little rusty from the offseason.

"Thirty-seven draw on three. Got it?" I say, looking at my running back, Dalton Davis, for confirmation.

He stands, crossing his arms over his chest like the child he is. "That's a great play, captain. One of my favorites, actually. But if you don't tell me where you've been running off to for the past four months, I'm gonna drop the handoff and make you look stupid."

I slide my eyes over to my wide receiver, Blaze Beckham, lifting an eyebrow in hopes that he can somehow get his best friend under control.

"Don't look at me," he says, shaking his head. "You've been MIA for every guys' night we've had this summer. Cough up an explanation and we'll make sure Coach doesn't have your ass running suicides after practice."

I groan, dragging my hands down my face before looking over to our rookie receiver, Finn Bellamy. "Zip right, double panther on three. You good with that?" He nods his head enthusiastically, because he's new and wants to show that he belongs in our starting lineup. "Okay, break!" I yell, all of us clapping once in unison before we take our spots on the line.

"My wife is here, bro," Dalton mumbles from behind me. "How am I supposed to show off for her if you don't give me the ball?"

I take my spot behind our center, Rick Daniels, before turning back to him. "Have you tried staying the fuck out of my business and focusing on football?" I suggest. "I have a funny feeling that might actually work for you."

"C'mon, Lake," he whines. "You missed most of our offseason workouts, and now you're bailing on us almost every weekend. We just want to know what you're up to. You have a secret girlfriend or something?"

I wish I could say yes. I spent the entire offseason basically stalking Grace from my parents' front yard. I saw her come and go several times, and I know she saw me, too. She probably thinks I'm so pathetic right now, but I don't care. I'm going to continue spending time in Hope Harbor because my instincts are telling me I need to. I can't fight the pull anymore.

"No secret girlfriend," I say. "Just visiting home. It's not a big deal."

I see the moment he drops it, his eyes softening with understanding as he gives me a tight nod. Dalton knows more about my situation with Grace than anyone else on the team. He needed advice when he and his wife were going through a rough patch, and I wanted to show him what his future could look like if he didn't fight for the woman he loved. I didn't give him all the details, but he knows enough to cut this conversation off before anyone else gets involved. I'm thankful that the guys care, but I'm nursing a broken heart while simultaneously making it worse by not staying away. I'm not ready to talk about it all yet. I don't know if I ever will be.

I get in my stance behind Danny Boy, as we all call him, and begin the play, tucking Grace into the back of my mind just like I always do. "Blue, seventeen. Blue, seventeen. Hut, hut, hut!" I yell loudly, taking the snap and rolling back. Bellamy takes off, faking right before slanting in toward the middle of the field. My line hits all their blocks while I let the play develop, firing off to the rookie about forty yards away. He jumps up, making a textbook grab and brings the ball down, tucking it tightly in the crook of his arm before blowing past the free safety and into the endzone.

"Holy fuck," our defensive end, Maverick Moran, mumbles, his mouthguard dropping from his open jaw. "That dude is fast. Hey Becks!" he yells to Blaze. "Let me know if you need a ride to the unemployment office when the rook takes your job."

Blaze flips him off. "Shut the fuck up or I'll tell Bella about the time your athlete's foot was so bad, we started a petition to make you ride to away games in the cargo hold with our luggage." That shuts him up immediately, because the big motherfucker is an absolute teddy bear when it comes to his girl.

All three of the guys have found love over the last year, and I'm happy for them. I just wish I hadn't fucked up so royally in my life, so I could experience the wins we've worked so hard to achieve with someone by my side.

It's not like I haven't tried. I've been set up on a handful of dates over the last few years, but it never worked out. They weren't her . I realized pretty quickly that Grace Valentine will always be the girl I compare everyone else to, and they'll never be able to match up. It got to a point where I stopped saying yes to going out on dates because I felt like I was leading the women on when I had no intentions of exploring anything further with them. I'd rather be alone than with someone who I would forever wish was someone else.

We finish up practice and head to the showers. My muscles are aching and I'm exhausted, so I should be going home, but I find myself bypassing the exit and heading toward Hope Harbor. It's almost four o'clock, which will give me about an hour before Grace gets home from work and I might get a look at her beautiful face. It's Friday, so I have the next two days off to catch up on rest.

I realize how pathetic all of this is. I've resorted to full-on stalking at this point, just hoping to get a small glimpse of her as she pulls into her driveway after work on the days that I can make it out there. I know she's not mine. That she's marrying another man. But for some reason, I continue feeling this undeniable pull to be near her. It's the only thing that's made me feel like I can take a deep breath in five years, and I'm quickly becoming addicted to it.

It's going to hurt like a motherfucker when I have to let her go again, but she'll always be worth the pain.