The QB Bad Boy: Playing for Keeps

(33) "I'm not scared."

D R A Y T O N

On Friday I'm granted a weekend at home. We don't have a game until next week and I could use the break. My apartment isn't shabby. But it's not home. I can't see Dallas in the decor. I can't inhale her scent when I walk in the front door. I'm not greeted with her golden smile and dazzling gaze whenever I return. It's the little details that I miss. It's been a long time since I lived at home permanently and as much as I want to win this game next weekend and make it to the Super Bowl, I'd have been fine with being booted months ago.

Well, not really. But I miss the comforts of home that's for sure.

The week has consisted of the usual. Training, media, dinner events with managers and big names. I'm exhausted. But I'm well aware that this weekend won't be all relaxation. Dallas has plans and I believe that a major portion of them are wedding related. Not that I'd complain. She's been taking care of almost everything while juggling her job and the least that I can do is let her drag me along to a couple of tasks that need ticking off.

When I walk in from the garage door at about five on Friday evening, I'm immediately relaxed at the familiarity. Music floats through the house at a soft volume, the scent of a roast meal invades me in the best sense and the low thrum of chattering voices comes from the kitchen.

The orange evening sun comes through the floor to ceiling living room windows and casts a natural filter on the framed pictures that litter the living room wall. I smile at the images that we've collected over the course of our relationship as I wander through into the kitchen.

It's unsurprising to find Dallas perched on a bar stool, watching Priya cut up vegetables on the kitchen island. Dallas has her hair twisted up on top of her head, a pair of leggings and slippers on and the best part, my football hoodie that she'd claimed in high school. It's a faded red now, the number and letters on the back are chipped and worn off but she loves that thing and refuses to part with it. She occasionally forces me to wear it so that it doesn't lose its scent.

I drop my duffle on to the floor, gaining the rooms attention with the dull leather to wood thud.

"Babe!" Dallas chirps, opening her arms as I stride towards her. She stays seated, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.

"Hey Priya." I smile as my hands travel the length of my fiancées back in circular motions. She gives me a small smile and wave while Dallas nuzzles herself further into my chest.

"You're just in time for dinner," she murmurs, the overwhelming scent of her pomegranate shampoo blasting me as I kiss the top of her head.

"Mhmm." Priya grins, tossing the vegetables in a bowl to coat them with seasoning. She manages to do it in such an expert manner that they don't all come spilling over the sides and land on the floor. "There's a roast chicken in the oven and I made triple berry cheesecake for dessert."

"What are we going to do when you move out Priya!" I sigh with faux despair, shifting to hold Dallas' weight which becomes heavier by the second. Her hold becomes a little slack, her arms dropping and when I lean back and keep her at arm's length by the shoulders, she startles awake, blinking with an interrupted gasp.

"Did you just fall asleep?" I laugh as she rubs her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"I'm tired," she mumbles, sticking her bottom lip out. "It's been a long week. I came home on Sunday, straight back to work on Monday and we just wrapped up this video we've been working on for months."