31. Tanner

THIRTY-ONE

TANNER

"Okay, boys," I say, leaning into the huddle. "All we need is a first down here, so we're going to keep it simple. Twenty-two hurricane on three. Twenty-two hurricane on three. Got it?" They all nod their heads in understanding. I turn to my wide receiver, Blaze. "Just try to get out of bounds. We'll run it up the middle after that to eat up the rest of the time."

"You got it, Cap," he says, slapping my shoulder.

We clap in unison before taking our positions at the line of scrimmage. It's the last game of the preseason, so all the starters are getting some playing time today. The past two weeks have been solely for the purpose of the rookies and second string getting a chance to see the field in a real gameplay situation, but now that the regular season is right around the corner, the starters are all just trying to make sure there's nothing else we need to work on in the next week.

I ready myself behind Danny Boy, kicking my left foot out behind me. Most quarterbacks use that signal to send a player in motion, but not me. My offense knows I do that before every play for a reason I've never been willing to explain.

Bending my knees and positioning my hands between my center's legs, readying myself for the snap. I look up, finding the Mike linebacker quickly and letting my team know where he is. "Ninety-one's the Mike! Ninety-one! Down, set, hut, hut, hut!"

Daniels snaps the ball and I roll back, keeping an eye on the blitz, but my line has it covered. I wait for Blaze to run his route, and when I feel someone rushing my blind side, I fire off the pass. He catches it just short of the first down line, spinning past the defender and running out of bounds. I could have told him to take it to the house, but I don't want to risk him getting hurt. We're safer just running something easy up the middle to win the game.

In the end, we beat the Dallas Sharpshooters seventeen to six. Both sides played great, with the defense not allowing a single first down in the second half. I'm proud of my guys as we head to the locker room, sitting on the benches while Coach goes through the post-game formalities.

I'd like to say I'm listening, but the truth is that I barely got through that game with the amount of time I spent thinking about Grace. What happened in my playroom the other night is on repeat in my head. I don't think I've experienced anything hotter than her telling me to crawl to her. And when she shoved her panties into my mouth, I swear I almost came without even being touched. I'm pretty sure I've been rocking a half chub ever since, which is not ideal when your job requires you to wear a jockstrap.

Even though it was just my finger, sliding back into her body after so long was like a thousand-pound weight had been lifted off of me. I know she was pissed because of what that room represents, but I wasn't lying when I told her that nobody else has been in there. I haven't had sex with anyone since her.

When I first went back to school, I was nursing a heartbreak of my own. I kept a full schedule with classes and football to stop from spiraling, pouring myself into bed after practice every day, thankful for the exhaustion that had set in. As long as I was working or sleeping, I didn't have time to think about everything that I had given up.

The draft came and went, and that gave me even more of an excuse to go hard with workouts and studying game tape. It was the only thing that stopped me from getting in my car and crashing back into her life.

I can't tell you how many times I drove halfway to Hope Harbor every summer, talking myself out of it and going back to Boston. I think that was more of a selfish move on my part, because had I seen her happy with someone else, I don't know if I could've survived it. Even at the anniversary party, when I saw that she was engaged to Cash, it felt like I wouldn't make it. The only thing that saved me was the sadness in her eyes when I looked into them. Whether it was from me, or the fact that she wasn't content in her relationship, I'd have taken hope from either one. In the end, I think it was a little bit of both.

I know she still feels something. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gotten so upset the other night. The way she lashed out made me want to reach out and hold her, but she deserves to lay into me whenever she feels like she has to. I left her with no real explanation, and nobody to help her through the pain I caused. If she wants to scream at me every day from now until forever, I'll let her. Now that I know the impact my decision really had on her future, I wouldn't blame her if she never forgave me for it.

"Good game, bro," Maverick says, sitting down next to me. I look around to see that most of the guys are already coming out from the showers, and I'm still sitting here thinking about Grace. In my defense, though, who wouldn't have the mental image of her sitting on the throne with her fingers in her cunt, taking her own pleasure? I barely even made it back to my room before I ripped down my boxers and stroked my cock furiously with the taste of her still on my tongue .

"You too, man," I reply. "D looks good this year."

He nods in agreement before hitting me with a questioning look. "I thought we lost you out there a couple times. What's going on?"

That's one thing about this team. We can all read each other so easily. It's great on the field, but not always so great off of it. Although now that I have Grace at my house, maybe it's time to ask for back up. I know we didn't exactly leave on great terms a few nights ago, and the only time I've seen her since was when I went down to make sure she had everything she needed. But she would've found some other place to stay if she didn't want to be there.

The storm went on for two days, ending just yesterday. I haven't had a chance to make it to the lighthouse to see the damage, but I know it's not going to be an easy fix. At the very least, I'm going to need an extraction team to come in for water removal. Worst case scenario would be that I'd need to replace the floors. Either way, Grace can't go back there yet.

Dalton and Blaze make their way back into the room, flanking my sides as I look up at Maverick. "She's at my house," I tell them.

"Is that good or bad?" Blaze asks, seeing that my face is lacking the excitement it would be showing if everything was going well.

"I don't know," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I need to find a way to show her that she has a place in my life. That it's empty without her. I fucked up so badly when I let her go, and it's been a fight to even get her to a point where she isn't raging every time she sees me. We still have a lot of shit to work out, but I want her to know that it's okay to relax around me."

Mav sits forward. "Does she like Bella Simon, by any chance?"

I whip my head up, raising a brow. "Are you suggesting we dangle your world-famous pop star girlfriend in front of Grace like a piece of meat so she'll realize how well she'd fit in with us?"

He pauses for a moment, pursing his lips as he considers my question. "Yeah. I am."

"You're a fucking genius," I tell him, a wide smile stretching across my face. I look around the group. "You guys busy tonight?"

"Fuck yeah, we are," Dalton says with a cocky grin. "Busy helping you get your girl back."