Chapter Thirty-Nine

Blake

T he next morning, I'm awake with the rest of my team, ready to face this game head-on. If we win, we can clinch the number-one spot in the division, and if we get that we won't be letting it go. That's been proven with our track record; whoever thinks they can come in and take it from us is very, very mistaken. I don't eat breakfast when we have late game starts, and since we do tonight, I skip the morning meal. Instead, I use my time for other things.

Grabbing my phone, I shoot off a text to Willa.

B: Good luck today. I'll be looking at you when I get all my touchdowns. Heart hands will be out in full effect. Can't wait to hear you perform. Love you.

W: Love you, too. You're gonna kill it.

Damn right I am. Quickly, I get dressed to go down for the lunch we always have at the hotel before we dress in our suits and head over to the stadium. When I get to the dining room, I take a seat in between my brother and Russell.

Russ looks over at me. "You ready for today? Could be a big game, and I know you've gotta be nervous for your girl."

"I am, and while I'm nervous for her, I know she's going to blow everyone away. You know that, we've seen her perform at actual concerts and before my heart was involved, I thought she was amazing. I can only imagine how I'm going to feel today when I hear everyone cheering for her."

Bret gives me a smile. "Happiness looks good on you brother. I think I'm more excited than you are."

Bullshit. No one is more excited than I am, but I'm also at the point in my life where I understand that things can and will change on a dime. I can love her out loud and show our happiness, but at the same time, I can also keep some of that for myself. "You're not—trust me. I just want her to see it more than I want to show it to the world."

Coach Wallace gets up in front of everyone and knocks his knife against his glass. "If I could have a minute of your time before we get over to the field. Please know I understand what it means for you all to be missing the holiday with your family. I get that it's your job, but this is a sacrifice. It's one I don't take lightly. Many of you have family members and significant others who are at home waiting to eat that meal with you. Others have those same people in the stands ready to cheer for all of us. What I don't want you to do..." He pauses and clears his throat. "…is to get too caught up in the everything going on outside the game. We could become number one in the division tonight. There's a Willa concert at halftime, which I know we're all excited for." He points to me while the guys clap and whistle. "But there's also the respect we need to pay to the fans. Nashville has never had a Thanksgiving primetime game. We've never been given a shot to play on the national stage with this many eyes on us..."

The room is quiet. A lot of those eyes are because of Willa and me dating. It's because we haven't kept it hidden. We've been very open with it all. It's a place I never imagined I would be but also a place I'm excited to be in. I feel the weight of it and realize what I owe my teammates, because they're dealing with it too.

Coach Wallace continues, "So let's go out there and show them what the Warriors can do, and show Nashville how proud we are to be the face of their professional league. I have every bit of faith in you that you're going to take this game home and give a clinic on how to do it. I'm proud of you all, and I can't wait to see where the rest of the year takes us."

Beside me, Bret claps. "Championship..." he starts chanting, and everyone chants along with him.

For the first time in my professional career, I believe we have a chance to make it two in a row.

Three hours later I'm getting on the bus that will take us across town to the stadium. I'm wearing team colors tonight—red and black. Willa will be wearing them as well when she gives her performance. I normally wouldn't be so matchy-matchy, but this is for a great cause.

We all get off the bus at our own pace and make our way into the stadium, using the underground entrance. I have earbuds in my ears, trying to drown out the sound of everything that can get into my head. There are cameras in front of me, and although I typically take a moment to speak to the reporters, I'm focused tonight. I want to take this top spot in the division, and I want everyone to see how fucking amazing my girlfriend is. Doing all of this at home? It's the culmination of everything I've wanted for years.

"Blake, are you excited to see Willa perform tonight?" one of the reporters asks, just as I reach the door.

I turn back. "I won't be able to watch in real time because it'll be the middle of our game, but you can bet I'll be watching it later. I have no doubt she's gonna kill it. There'll be an electricity in the air that we haven't felt all year." I give him a wave and head into the safety of the locker room.

The team doctor waves me over. "Hey, I'm just telling you this because I don't want you to be alarmed when she comes in, but Willa woke up sick. Her management sent me a message to see if I could give her a shot to help her get through this, and I will. There's nothing to be alarmed about. She does have a fever, but it's low. She will make it through the performance, and then I'll get her a prescription for a steroid shot, okay?"

I nod, trying not to worry. That's not what either of us needs right now, but if there's ever been a point when I wished I could be with her? It's this one, and I send up a small prayer that she's able to make it through the show. I know how disappointed she'll be if she can't.