GROUNDING 🏈 Nick Bosa

#TWELVE.

  
•Writers note, I am aware that some of these games/non-active players are not going to be chronologically right. Please, just keep in mind I am writing a story, and need to change narratives to fit into my storyline. Thank you, for your continued support and understanding!🖤
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Game day.

It was about 2 hours until the football game starts.

I am setting up my massage table and going through my bag of products in my separate locker room, when Nick stalks through the door.

"Hey, can you rub out this kink for me?" He blankly, says. While taking off his shirt.

I was somewhat astonished to see him.

"Sure, where's your pain?" I desperately, try to keep my mind on the job.

"It's on the side, I think it's my oblique." He replies, laying onto the table.

"Did you hurt your ribs?" I question him carefully.

"I don't fucking know." He says, rudely.

I could tell he was in a sort of mood, but I tried to remind myself it probably wasn't me. I'm sure football was the only thing on his mind right now.

"Well, I just need to make sure because I don't want to go pressing on fractured ribs..." I try to explain.

He looks at me in an aggravated manner. "Can you just do your job, please?"

I nervously look back at him. "Um, that's what I'm trying to do."

He gets up from the table in a quick, aggressive movement, grabbing his shirt into his hands. "You know what, just forget it."

"Nick, what is going on right now?" I ask, confused and a bit intimidated, I won't lie.

"Did you drink last night?" He turns and stares me down.

"Yeah?" I reply, even more disoriented as to what the hell was going on.

"You get drunk?"

"Uh, no. I don't think so. Why?"

"Yeah, okay." He says, turning and walking towards the door now.

I wasn't sure if I should say anything to him or not at this point. He seemed like he was about to snap at any moment, and I wasn't even sure why. I felt anger radiating off of him.

He opens the door and looks at me. "I'm just a chauvinistic prick, right?"

"Oh my god..." I was about to go to explain, when he just walks out, letting the door slam behind him.

These people ran in a circle, for sure.

Great, this was now our third argument in a row, and I couldn't help, but to think maybe this was about to be a toxic waste of my time.

I was desperate to fix it, though. I didn't want him to think I truly meant that. As difficult as it's been already being around him, I still wanted him. Something inside me told me, this was all going to be worth it. We were just battling against the odds that were stacked up against us.