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I hadn’t been drafted yet, and my mom had only died a few years ago.
Kaylee was my first serious girlfriend. One I couldn’t imagine spending my life without. But I was questioning it. Telling Kaylee that I loved her was a big deal. I needed to be sure.
Did I know what love was?
Was it just because she was the only woman I’d spent much time with? We’d been spending every free moment together, when I wasn’t training, at a game, or at class, so I made some shitty excuses and did some things on my own.
This period coincided with when we had a big family dinner. I wanted to invite her. I should have invited her. But it felt like a big deal to have her there. Not only would it have sent a messageto Kaylee that we were serious, my family would have thought the same thing. So I decided this would be a good one to sit out and see how I felt not having her there.
I missed her.
The following weekend was Jackson Billows party. The rest is history.
So I concluded that, no, it wasn’t love.
We were together for eight weeks, Levi.
To Kaylee, it meant nothing. She more or less said that this morning with her statement.
It was time I moved on.
I refuse to mess up my professional football career, like I nearly did in college.
I will be her friend.
Nothing more.
––––––––
TWO HOURS LATER, I’m lying in bed, jerking off as I picture Kaylee on her knees, her bare ass under my hands as I thrust my cock inside her.
She moans my name as her small, pert breasts bounce under her. Then gasps as I pinch her nipples in my imagination.
“Come for me kitten,” I imagine telling her, as my thick muscular thighs drop, and my hand fists my cock.
“Harder,” she begs.
“My girl likes her pussy pounded, does she?”
My hips lift off the bed and I let out a moan. Come spills over my abs and the relief I feel is minimal.
I let out a frustrated groan.
As a newly minted player, there are plenty of choices out there. I’m done being thePlayer. I want what I had with Kaylee.
Correction: I want something better. Someone loyal and honest, who feels the way I do. Not someone who just wants a guy wearing a football jersey.
I liked being able to talk with Kaylee and share my dreams. I’d tell her about my plays as we jogged through the park, and I’d help her study.
In many ways both our interests were on the athletic body. Mine, my own. Hers, those of her future patients.
I just had no idea that I’d be one of them.
As her fucking ex-boyfriend.
I’ve fucked a few girls since we broke up, and I’m almost certain it makes me feel worse. I may not have known back then, but Idoknow now...I loved Kaylee Rose.
That’s what hurts the most.