“Are you getting cut?”
I shake my head slightly. “I need to go and do damage control.”
“Harrison is outside, Noah. I’ll have him drive you to the airfield,” Katelyn scrambles toward the door as Peyton comes toward me.
“That’s such shit,” Elle blurts out. “Peyton doesn’t need you to get a job.”
“Elle,” Peyton scolds.
“She’s right, you don’t need me. I don’t think the Rams got that message though.” I hate saying it, but why else would they spread the rumor that I’m meeting with them? They have to know this isn’t how you go after someone whose contract is coming due. “I have to go,” I tell Peyton, who’s on the verge of tears. I lean down and kiss her. “I love you.”
I have to force myself to leave her standing there, knowing she’s about to break down. Her sister is there, and as angry as Elle is, she’ll take care of Peyton while I’m gone.
9
Peyton
Have you ever felt your life start to slip through your fingers? I’m not talking about dying, but the life you envisioned yourself having? For me, I’ve always dreamed of being Noah’s wife, having his children, and growing old with him. Being by his side while he played football or baseball, loving him until I stopped breathing.
This is how I felt when Noah told me what the Rams did to him, to me…to us, like I was dying. Hurting Noah is the last thing I would ever do. As soon as the words sunk in, I immediately called and told them I wouldn’t be accepting the job. I did so without hesitation. I would never want to jeopardize Noah’s career. There isn’t a job out there that would make me choose them over him. Ever.
And I feel useless and used. I never would’ve thought a team would do something like this to get to Noah, to try and ruin his career, to get his attention. There are better ways, procedures that protect everyone. That’s what really gets me, the fact they started spreading rumors that would surely get him into trouble with the Pioneers, making sure he’d never play for them. I don’t get it.
What also bothers me, tears me up inside, is that the Rams gave me a different outlook on my job situation. They offered me something I love to do, something that I’m good at, only to get to Noah, and it’s made me question everything. Am I good enough to be a sideline reporter? Broadcaster? A wife to Noah? He knows about my insecurities and assures me that nothing will change between us. But I feel like it already has.
He’s gone before I wake up, and home after I’ve gone to bed. I know it’s stupid to think, but I wonder if he’s waiting down on the street for me to turn off the lights before he finally comes home so he can avoid talking to me. He holds me while we’re asleep, but he’s restless. Tossing and turning, thrashing about while he dreams. All I want is for him to tell me what’s going on, how he’s feeling. Yell at me for being stupid, even though it wasn’t my fault. I just want him to be present, to come back to me, and I know that I can’t wait for that to happen. I need to take this head-on. We’re getting married in a few months and I don’t want to wonder if my groom’s ready or not as I walk down the aisle.
The ride over to the practice facility takes longer than I planned. We’re stuck in traffic and I fear I’m going to miss practice. When we reach the source of the jam, my stomach twists and turns. There’s an accident. A mangled car is being loaded onto the back of a tow truck, and there’s glass everywhere. The only people at the scene are the clean-up crew and probably the investigator. I’ve often wondered what the scene of my accident looked like. I could look pictures up on the web, go back to the police department and see the photos, but I’m not sure I could handle it.
My nerves were already on edge, but now they’re frayed. I should’ve asked Noah if it were okay for me to come and watch him today. This year the Pioneers are holding a mini-camp before training camp officially starts in the middle of July. The popularity of the team is such that the marketing group is trying to make the team more accessible to the younger crowd. Last year, the stands at the practice facility were so jam-packed with people, that some complained. The owners didn’t like that much and asked the players what they thought about doing something for the fans. From what I understand, mostly everyone was on board.
The camp is open to everyone, and the public’s encouraged to attend. For some, this is their only chance to see their favorite players since ticket prices are outrageous, and the Pioneers tend to sell-out, especially when the more popular teams come to town. Often, in between sessions, the players will sign autographs and pose for photos. The fans love it. Noah once said that this is the way he builds his fan base. It doesn’t matter how tired or sore he is, he won’t pass up the opportunity to pose, especially if the fan is younger.
The Players Association limits what the guys can do though. The rules are strict, with the big one being no contact. Still, the defensive line likes to tease Noah that they’re coming after him.
By the time the car service pulls into the parking lot, I’m second-guessing everything and wondering if I should go home and wait. Wait for what, though, I don’t know. He won’t be home until late and waiting up for him has proved futile in the past. If I’m asleep on the couch, he’ll carry me to bed, and for some reason, I’m so exhausted I never wake-up.
I feel like I’m about to heave my breakfast and lunch. It’s stupid really considering the only thing I’m doing is going to watch my fiancé throw the football around. And talk to him. I’m going to force him to speak to me, whether he likes it or not. I have to know where his head is. I must know that we’re on the same page.
There are a few familiar faces passing by as I walk toward the field, which puts me at ease. I don’t know of any other wives or girlfriends attending the mini-camp, so I’m pleased to see I’m not the only one who ventured out today.
“Peyton!” I look for the voice calling my name and smile at Alex Moore’s girlfriend, Maggie. They’ve been together for a little over a year and seem to be doing well. I go over to her, she takes my hands and squeezes them. “How are the wedding plans coming?”
“Good,” I tell her as I sit down. “Everything is coming along swimmingly.” Minus the fact that I fear my fiancé doesn’t want to get married anymore and I don’t have a dress or chosen my bridesmaids. But who’s really keeping track?
“Alex was surprised that Noah asked him to be in the wedding.”
I look at her quickly before turning my attention back to the field. I can’t let her know that I had no idea Noah did that. It would make sense though. Alex and Noah have been friends for a long time, and I suspected he wants Alex to be there. “Does Alex look good in brown?” I ask her.
Maggie’s eyes go wide. “Not going the traditional route?”
“There’s nothing traditional about Noah and me. Besides, all the men in our lives have to wear tuxes a lot. Our dads for the events they go to, the team for the galas. I wanted to give them a
reprieve.”
She bumps her shoulder with mine. “That’s very nice of you, and they’ll appreciate it. What about you. Have you picked your dress? Colors?”
Shaking my head slightly, I scan the field for Noah. When I spot him, my heart begins to race. He’s on the far sideline, his hands are clutching his jersey, and he’s speaking to his offensive coordinator.