Page 103 of The Check Down
“It’s not an offer, just a response to an interest form I filled out months ago. Before we…”
Before we fell in love.
“You want to move to Florida?” His tone is even, but his eyes? Storm cloud gray.
“No. Well, maybe. I’ve thought about it. Obviously.” Heart pounding as I assess him, I whisper, “It’s only an hour from my parents.”
“But it’s many,manyhours away from me.”
“Please don’t be mad. I don’t plan on interviewing. I wanted you to know about the email because I don’t want to keep things from you.”
He taps his fingers on the steering wheel, then heaves a deep sigh. “Baby, I’m not mad. A little stunned, maybe. I didn’t know you’d thought about moving back to Florida.” When he glances my way, the gray of his irises is less stormy.
I shrug. “Maybe someday. I mean, if you’d…” My heart clenches and my nerves skitter through me. “Never mind.”
“If I’d want to move there, too?” he guesses.
Lips pressed together, I dip my chin. “Your season is almost over. Even if y’all go all the way, you’ll be done in February. But your mom would probably hate me if I asked you to move away.”
“Donna could never hate you. She’d adjust, believe me. And I’m pretty fond of the beach, professor.”
Perking up, I shift in my seat. “Really?”
“Only if you promise to wear a bikini around the house.” He wags his brows, his lips tipping in a wicked smile.
“Hmm, only if you wear your cartoon boxers.”
“I’m opento negotiations.”
Laughing with Griffin helps ease the tension. But though that lead boulder in my gut is smaller, it isn’t gone.
He clutches my hand and holds it to his mouth, peppering it with kisses all the way home, like he’s afraid to let go.
Chapter twenty-three
Brynn
Uneasiness follows me into the new year. Since New Year’s Eve is in the middle of the week and the guys have practice, we have a low-key celebration with a select few players and WAGs.
Though disquiet has taken up residence in my mind like an unwelcome visitor, my boyfriend is pure focus as he prepares for the game. With the exception of last Sunday night after he returned home, we haven’t had sex this week. Supportive girlfriend that I am, I didn’t question him when he told me he wanted to abstain to keep his mind clear. But I’ve missed the intimacy. That it’s happening—ornothappening, technically—when I’m vulnerable and needy eats at me. I need the connection. I needhim.
But football is the priority. At least for now.
To ensure they get a quality night of rest before this big game, the organization requires the players to spend Saturday night in a hotel. It’s not the first time Griffin and I have slept apart since we started dating, not by a longshot, but it’s the loneliest yet. I sleep curled in a ball on his side of the bed with Barnaby tucked to my chest.
Paige picks me up early so we’ll get a quick moment with our guys before they suit up for their pregame warm-ups.
When we step onto the field from the tunnel the guys use, a cold blast of winter air whips our hair across our faces. The temperaturehovers around freezing, but the wind chill is well below that, and there’s a chance of snow flurries in the forecast. I pull my puffer coat tighter, thankful that the private suites are heated.
As Paige and I wait behind the barricade, we’re surrounded by wives, girlfriends, and children all decked in a kaleidoscope of blues and bouncing in place or blowing into gloved hands for warmth.
A handful of players are on the field, checking the conditions and getting a feel for the stadium. Beau and his backups run drills with the receivers, running backs, and tight ends to warm up.
When a whistle signals the end of this early warm-up period, the players jog over to greet their families before they head into the locker room to suit up.
When my guy pulls me in for a not-suitable-for-work kiss, my toes curl in my fleece-lined boots.
“How are you not freezing?” I ask, plucking at the long-sleeved Blues T-shirt he’s wearing with shorts.