Page 3 of Catching Our Moment

Shaw

I disconnected the call with one of my oldest friends, Wyatt Fortner, and paced the floor, staring out the palladium window overlooking Los Angeles, digesting the news he’d given me.

“How soon can you make it back home?” he had asked.

Home. He didn’t mean Charlotte, my current residence where I played for the professional football team.

He meant Keysville, Maryland, where we all were tethered.

Kelcie, Wyatt, Grace, Aliya, and Tyler. Our friendship and experiences together were the foundations upon which we built our futures.

I would never be where I was without them, especially Kelcie.

Grace had called Wyatt with the news, and Wyatt called me because Kelcie wasn’t about to pick up the phone and tell me her husband was leaving her. The world could have been on fire, and she wouldn’t make that call.

But I was in Los Angeles—on the other side of the United States—and something was going on with Kelcie. My Kelcie. The person who was once my best friend.

Hell, she wasn’t answering my calls.

I slide my cell phone back into my pocket to resist crushing it with the hand that palms footballs for a living.

This was bullshit.

I needed to get home.

I needed to get my girlfriend out the door.

“Riles, the car is downstairs waiting for us. We gotta go.”

“I’m almost done,” Riley, my girlfriend who considered Charlotte living in the boonies, called back from the bathroom.

“Is your bag ready? I’ll take it down?—”

“Almost…”

I rechecked my watch and flicked my wrist, stretching my neck and shoulders as I continued to pace.

Knock-knock.

“Riles, the guy is here to take the luggage. We gotta go.”

“Okay, take the suitcases… Just finishing my face.”

“We’re just going to be on a plane,” I said, striving for patience, but the irritation was seeping through.

She poked her head out the door, her long, freshly styled blonde hair falling forward, reminiscent of a shampoo commercial. Actually, I think she was in a shampoo commercial.

“Yes, but baby, this is LA. LA has paps swarming the airport. You never know when you’re going to be photographed. I always have to be perfect when I am in LA. I’ve told you.” She popped back into the room. “This isn’t Charlotte.”

I turned my back so she missed my eyeroll. “No, it is not.”

I would not miss LA.

“I’m going to miss LA,” she sighed. “Are you sure we can’t stay any longer? Spring training doesn’t start for a few weeks yet.”

“I do other things besides football training,” I said— like not living in LA .

I came out here because of my sponsorship deals.

I had to shake hands, make guest appearances, do a few commercials, and have a photo session.

Of course, then there were the obligatory parties and club appearances.

But I was a football player, not a celebrity.

Still, according to Riley, it worked the same way for players in the league.

“You have to have something to fall back on when you retire. You should capitalize on your celebrity with your looks, charm, and social media following.”

Right now, all I wanted to do was get out of LA.

Riley craved all of it. I craved the football field and missed my home.

My pocket vibrated with an incoming call. Grace.

“Hey, Gracie, what’s going on?”

Knock-knock.

As I headed over to answer the door, her light, melodic tone greeted me, “Hey, Wyatt said you’re in LA?”

“Yeah, heading home shortly…”

The bellhop sat at the door with a luggage cart. I motioned to him to come in and pointed out the ridiculous amount of luggage we had for the short trip. “Getting ready to head to the airport.”

“How about a stop in Baltimore?”

The bellhop went to work. I pulled up short as her words registered.

“Is she okay?” I asked, my hand rubbing at my forehead.

“She’s coming home this weekend, and I?—”

I closed my eyes. “So, he is really leaving her?”

“Um, yes.”

I looked at the sky in front of me. “Is she okay?” I asked again.

“She says she is. She’s taking it all in stride. You know, Kelcie.”

Yeah. I know Kelcie—or at least I did.

“Anyway, I thought maybe some friendly faces could be distracting?—”

Riley came strutting out in her stilettos, the latest designer purchase, and two hours of prep work to get on a cross-continental plane ride. “Shaw, baby, I’m ready.”

“Is that Bailey?” Grace said.

“Riley…yes.” I grimaced.

“Oh…well, bring her,” Grace said. Her sincerity was forced but appreciated. My girlfriend and friends had nothing to discuss past greeting each other.

I glanced at my beautiful girlfriend, who was every teenage boy’s dream—outrageous body, flawless skin, cascading hair. She was easily one of the most beautiful women I’d met. She wasn’t bitchy or cruel. She wasn’t dumb or a big partier. She was unapologetically ambitious and driven.

But she wasn’t exactly subtle, and since she considered Charlotte a small town, she definitely wouldn’t want to spend any longer than it would take to fill a gas tank in my hometown.

I told Grace, “I’ll let you know when I land.”

“Ok, Shaw. Sounds good.”

I hung up and turned to Riley. “Riles, how would you like to stay in LA for a bit longer?”