Page 40 of Your Rule to Break
We all learned a lot, and I'm thankful.
My phone buzzes again—this time, it’s Emilie.
EJ
wish I was there
go zack and go cosmos!
Me
thank you
you watching?
wouldn’t miss it
Next, a picture of her wearing my jersey comes through. She’s currently wearing it out in public, at what looks to be a sports bar. Fuck, that’s so hot.
I immediately save it, just like I did when she sent me her fit for what she wore to her sister’s bachelorette non-party. She’s the kind of person whowearsclothes, like they were made perfectly for her—doesn’t matter what it is.
Seeing her in that suit vest, with nothing underneath it, had me thinkingsome thoughts. I dreamt about her taking it off, a single button at a time, but woke up before she completely removed it. I’ve thought about her tits much more than is probably appropriate for a fake girlfriend.
Nerves sit low in my core, like they do before every game. I recognize them, and my love for the game. I turn my phone off and soak up a quiet minute in the locker room.
We pull out thewin, thanks to a fifty-eight-yard field goal as time expired—a play I contributed to. It’s so surreal to look upin the stands and see Cosmos blue throughout the stadium during an away game. Doesn’t matter that it’s only our second season as a team in the NFL—Cosmos fans travel.
The elevator opens to the lobby, and I see my dad waiting near the doors. When he sees me, he lights up, and it’s a look I wish I could bottle and keep forever.
“Mr. Undefeated. Come here.” He wraps me in a hug, hitting my back like men do.
“Hell of a game,” I respond, a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for coming.”
“Always,” he says, but he’s looking around the lobby. Sometimes he’s nervous when it comes to fans approaching us when we’re out. I don’t blame him—the public can be wild.
“You good?”
He rolls his shoulders back and responds, “Yeah, totally. All good. Let’s get to dinner.”
We walk the short four blocks to the steakhouse I picked for dinner, while my dad goes through the highlights from the game. His voice is quick, full of life, and it takes me back to our after-game chats. If there’s something my dad loves, it’s talking about football.
Before I know it, we’re eating fresh bread at the restaurant.
“Emilie still in the picture?” he pokes, and I welcome the change of topic. Not because I don’t love talking about football, but having a beer, talking girls with your dad, is an experience I don’t take for granted.
When I nod yes, he keeps going. “When are you bringing her over for dinner? You know your mom is just salivating to host. Plus, it’s been a minute since you met someone like this.”
I bite. “What do you mean?”
“Just that it seems like she’s kept your attention. And you’ve spent more than a few drunken nights with her. That’s all.”
This makes me pause. I’ve always had an open type of communication with my parents when it comes to relationships and partners. My parents were always telling Riley and me about safe and consensual sex, making it an open topic for conversation when most of my friends had a parent throw them a box of condoms and tell them “not to get anyone pregnant.”
It catches me off guard because he’s right. I’ve not had serious relationships, rarely bringing people home to meet my parents, which isn’t weird when you’re in college and an athlete. My time was spent at football and making sure my grades were solid enough to keep doing so. It’s weirder when you’re almost twenty-seven.
“Zack, it’s fine. I didn’t say that to make you feel bad about previous decisions or nights, or whatever,” Dad scrambles, sensing my reaction. “It’s just that we’re happy to meet her. When you’re ready.”
I believe him. It’s not that he said what he’s thinking—I’m lucky to have him be honest with me—it’s just making me wonder if I’m missing out. On real people. Genuine connections.