I feel like a freaking male stalker. Where in the hell are you? Your mom says you’re okay, but you just up and quit football without a word? How can you be OKAY? CALL ME!
His parents had mentioned Jordan and a few of his best buddies had called the house. His closest friends knew their number, and he’d figured a few might try and reach him at their house, which is why he hadn’t stayed with them.
He scanned a few more of the texts. Most of them were from the media, no shock. Cripes, he had over a thousand text messages and was maxed out with forty voicemails. Wonderful. It was going to take some time to dig his way through them. Well, Kelly could do it for him when she drove up. His assistant would spend Monday through Wednesday working in Dare Valley; he’d secured a standing reservation for her at The Grand Mountain Hotel because of the commute. He didn’t need her full-time anymore, and one of his former teammates had been delighted to hire her for her remaining time.
Kelly was an organizational genius and had handled his move with her usual efficiency. He didn’t want to touch anything in the Denver house until he knew how things turned out with Natalie, so Kelly and a load of interior decorators had outfitted this new place to his tastes. He’d brought some clothes and toiletries with him, but little else—not even his Super Bowl ring.
He scrolled through his voicemails and located Natalie’s.
Blake. I’ve just heard about Adam. I am so sorry. Why didn’t you say anything? I know things have been…well, weird, but…”
She trailed off, and he waited to hear the rest of the message, his heart pounding hard.
“Well, I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. Adam was a beautiful man. I can’t imagine how much you and your parents are going to miss him. I’ll…goodbye, Blake.”
Her hesitation was enough to put a knot of emotion in his throat. He’d known she would feel sympathy for his loss, and while he appreciated that, he wanted a whole lot more from her.
He dialed up one of his best football buddies, who would undoubtedly be worried about him. Sam Garretty played for the Washington Warriors, but they’d met years ago at the famous football camp Sam’s dad ran in Ohio, which they all called the Once Upon A Dare Camp in honor of Coach Garretty’s annual speech at the camp opener. Blake had made seven friends for life at that camp, including Jordan, but he’d avoided calling them over the past weeks. He was afraid of how they’d react to his monumental decision to leave behind the sport they all loved.
“Hey, Sam,” he said when his friend answered.
“Glad you finally checked in,” Sam replied in the steady voice for which he was known. He never lost his cool—not even if his team was down three points with twenty seconds left. “Some of the guys were ready to hire a private investigator to hunt you down.”
“I’m not surprised. Jordan’s latest text said he felt like a stalker.” The way his mouth curved felt good. “Jordan always was a worry wart.”
“I won’t ask why you did it.”
“It wasn’t only because Adam died,” he felt inspired to say.
“I know it wasn’t. We all know it wasn’t.”
Because they all already knew how much he loved Natalie and wanted her back. They’d flown in to see him after the breakup, and they’d kept up a steady flow of visits to show their support. He wouldn’t have survived without them. And after it had become clear that Adam wasn’t going to pull through, they’d been there for him again. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as emotion rolled through his chest.
“You don’t have to spill your guts, but I have to ask: how are you really doing?”
The breath he blew out would have been enough of an answer for Sam, but he owed him more than that. “I don’t know yet. We knew we were going to lose Adam—heck, we’ve known all year—but it still hurts like hell. And I’ve just seen Natalie. I bought the house next door to her.”
“You’re in Dare Valley then? How’d she react to seeing you?”
He thought back to her flushed face, the worry in her beautiful blue eyes. Since Kim’s death, the color of her eyes had reminded him more of the blue ice of glaciers than the blue tongues of firelight. It had been good to see that warm blue color again today.
“She’s not overjoyed, but she didn’t lambast me like she probably would have done if I weren’t grieving. I connected our properties with a bridge. We can share Touchdown now.”
And other things, he hoped.
He was convinced the bridge was the key to a better life—just like he’d told her.
“Jordan said he wanted all of us to drop everything and fly out to see you when you resurfaced. Zack said he’d order us a case of bourbon. No one mentioned strippers, thank God.”
No, their group of guys wasn’t into that part of the life. When they got together, they acted like boys again, pulling more practical jokes than should be legal.
“Bourbon sounds good,” he said. “I guess I don’t need to worry about my alcohol consumption anymore.”