I've never been jealous of another teammate. Sure, some guys are faster than I am, stronger than I am, but none of them have ever tried to steal the girl I love away from me.
I love the way he looks in his uniform, all man with just a hint of the boy I fell for all those years ago.
She stirs things inside me that I don't even know I'm feeling until it's too late. Whenever I'm around her, all I can think about is her, no one else, not even myself.
I like imagining that he punished his body for me, torturing it into such spectacular shape, hoping that one day I'd be able to appreciate his efforts.
That big chunk of my life that felt like it was missing has slid back into place. With him, I feel whole again. For the first time in a long time, I'm where I'm supposed to be with the person I'm supposed to be with.
His eyes meet mine, and for a moment everything seems like it'll be okay. More than okay, actually.
Having a woman on the team is stirring things inside me that I never felt before while on the job.
Because," he said in an even voice, "you're used to winning, so you don't even think about how, every time there's a game, both sides get that 'rah, rah, team' speech from their coaches both sides hear 'you're the best!' 'You've got to win!' 'You're ...
