Page 55 of Unrivaled Love
"How so?"
"He has us get on zoom calls with activities and stuff so we get to know each other off the field too."
"Really? Like what?"
"Hot sauce tasting, a white elephant gift exchange, a wild wig party. That sort of stuff."
He chuckles. "Don't let Coach Taylor share any of this with Coach Bradford or Felix for that matter. I'm sure he'd be all over it."
"You guys don't get enough bonding during the season?"
"During the season, yeah. We're together almost every day. But in the off season he usually tries to keep us connected. But not this year."
"Why not?" I ask because this year he should be thrilled about hanging with his championship teammates.
"With all the events and promotional stuff we've been spending a lot of time together. And since we went to the final our off season is only like 75 days this year."
I'm quiet because I hadn't thought of that.
But still I'm curious. He's achieved the top level of his sport. Something I can only imagine.
"What did it feel like?"
"What?"
"Winning."
"Oh, it's tough to explain." He says and he rubs the back of his neck. I just stare at him. I expected some gloating, some cockiness, but I'm not seeing those in his face. In the moonlight he looks pale and his gaze dances before setting on me. "It was a high unlike anything I've ever experienced." He continues. "In the final seconds I think I completely stopped breathing as I watched the clock and the ice all at once. Then, the buzzer sounded and it was like peeing after holding it on the bus for ages."
"What?" I laugh.
He smiles at me and I feel it warm my chest.
"Relief. I felt relieved."
I nod along. That makes sense. I felt similarly after getting my goal against Venezuela. Like, finally, there was some proof.
"And then it was a mix of emotions for the next few days. I bounced between being so happy I would just break out into spontaneous giggles to feeling an exhaustion deep in my bones." He looks down at his hands in his lap and I can see the wheels turning in his head. "And then? I dunno."
I sit and wait for him to continue. To give him the space he gave me in his bedroom earlier. I’m struggling to understand his mental state but I want to try. The slump of his shoulders, the hang of his head, the way he rips at his finger nail tell me something is off.
"Tell me Bryson." I say quietly.
He looks up at me and my breath catches. The look in his deep brown eyes is almost shameful.
"The happiness faded and I felt tired."
"And?" I prompt because I can see there is so much more he wants to say.
"And I couldn’t imagine starting over.” He looks out over the scenery before turning to me. “The only time I felt excited again was seeing you play. And, shit Jo, I don't want you to run again, I don't want to scare you off, but I had this, like, mini breakdown when I thought I saw you in the crowd at an event a few days after your game. I froze up on stage and that never happens. And, honestly, I hadn’t felt like myself in weeks. I didn’t even fucking dance at my teammate’s wedding.” He drags a hand through his curls and settles it in his lap. “So I left D.C. and came here. I needed to get away, to reset. I don't feel motivated to train or even start the season again. It was so fucking hard to win."
He drags a hand down his face to wash away his emotion. He schools his features and looks up at me. He composes himself before his eyes travel down my body and back up. It's almost like he's verifying I'm here.
I’m not sure what to do with his admission. I wasn’t aware he had seen me in the crowd. I couldn’t stand being there because my jealousy was all consuming so I left after giving his mom a hug and thanking her for coming to the game.
"Why do you only have your practice uniform?" He asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
I look down at it. "I left Salt Lake straight from training." I admit with a shrug and a sigh.
