Page 71 of Running
They do, and messy or not, we come away with another win. 2-0 for the season.
“Fuck yes,” Carter says as he climbs on the plane bringing the team back to Orlando. “Great job, men.”
Bailey is already seated across from me. “The line brought it, Carter. Nice work.”
Landon takes the seat in the row behind me, and we’re all shooting the shit as the plane takes off. Once we reach cruising altitude, Coach Houston stands up and addresses the team quickly.
“Now we have the whole weekend off. Heal any bumps or bruises, get some family time, enjoy a little extra rest. We’ll be back at the facility on Monday.”
I make eye contact with Landon, and he looks extra amped. Rori is playing in the U.S. Open finals on Saturday in New York, and now he can go.
Which also means he won’t expect to make plans with either Grace or me for the weekend. Instead, we can make plans with each other.
By the time the plane lands though, it’s two in the morning, so I don’t do more than get home and crash.
I sleep until eight, the sunshine streaming through the windows in my bedroom forcing my eyes open. A free Friday, so I guess I can afford to be a little tired.
Appreciation of the victories in the last ten days has me juiced anyway as my mind fully wakes up. The two wins on the field—and a step forward with Grace off it.
I call my mom once I’ve had a couple sips of coffee, and it sounds like everything is status quo. Lainie’s trying to do it all, everyone is tired, and yup, predictably—they still don’t want more help.
Next, I make a mental list of who else I should check in with today: our head of physical therapy to schedule treatment on a couple of my tweaked muscles from the game; Lily about a new investment opportunity I’d received; Aiden about some endorsement options he’s already vetting for next off-season; and Grace.
The first three happen in rapid fashion, and I’m set to come into the facility at eleven for treatment.
I’m not concerned with any of my bumps and bruises—they’re the norm after a game. It’s inevitable you’re going to have dings when you are getting slammed into by 250+ pound men over and over again. Getting your minor injuries to heal quicker with the right care, however, is essential. It’s a long season, and taking care of my body now will pay off over time.
All things football done, it’s now time for the one message I want to get right. I go for simple and direct.
JOHNSON: Hi, I’m free all weekend. Can I take you on our first official date?
GRACE: Yes. When?
I don’t want just to hang out at my house. We may come back here after, but I want to do something that feels like a real date.
I look outside, racking my brain for ideas that won’t blow our cover. And then, as a bird flies by, an idea hits.
JOHNSON: Are you busy tonight?
I guess that could come off as impatient, but I am.
GRACE: Tonight is perfect. I’m still on break, so my schedule is easy
We make plans for me to pick her up at Landon’s at five, since she’s staying there to take care of Grover while he’s in New York.
Then I get to work ordering a grocery delivery for everything I need for my idea—and call in a favor.
At five sharp, I’m ringing Landon’s doorbell. This time I’m wearing shorts and a thin polo, since we’re going to be outdoors.
I didn’t bring flowers, since I realized that it could be tricky for Grace to explain to Landon when he returns and finds flowers at his house. I’ve pulled out a bunch of stops, though.
The door opens to an absolute vision. Grace’s blonde locks are braided in a halo, framing her face, and she has on a cute lemon-colored sleeveless top and denim shorts. I immediately admire her killer legs with so much of them on display.
“Hi,” she says brightly. “Is this alright? You said to wear something casual I could walk around in?”
“You look great.” I give her a kiss on the cheek, and then notice she’s wearing socks but no shoes yet. “Definitely bring sandals or flip-flops for later if you want, but start off in sneakers.”
“I’m so curious what we’re doing. Okay, come in and I’ll get my shoes on.”
