My NFL Star Chose His Best Friend. I Chose My Future.

My boyfriend is Grayson Hale, one of the biggest quarterbacks in the NFL. He can read a defense in seconds. Me? Apparently, I need a translator. Her name is Claire Whitmore. Claire has known Gray since they were kids. She works in sports psychology and mental performance, which means everybody around him acts like she’s the expert on every feeling anyone has. Gray included. So when I get upset, he asks Claire what it means. The first time he misses our anniversary dinner because film runs late, I’m pissed. Claire takes one look at me and goes, “Relax, Gray. She’s not mad about dinner. She wants to see if you’ll pick her over football.” I stare at her. “Or maybe I’m mad because he forgot our anniversary.” Claire smiles. “Sure.” That’s Claire. When Gray doesn’t answer his phone until two in the morning and I stay up worried, she says I’m checking up on him. When I stop arguing because I’m tired, she says I’m punishing him. If I cry, I’m manipulating him. If I’m quiet, I’m trying to make him feel guilty. After a while, Gray stops asking me. He asks her. “What does she mean?” “Why is she mad?” “Do you think she’s serious?” And Claire always has an answer. So I spend three years trying to prove her wrong. I don’t complain about road games. I work around practices, film sessions, sponsor dinners, team events, whatever. I even make Gray a little emotion book. I’m a children’s book illustrator. Drawing is my job. Red means angry. Blue means sad. Yellow means happy. Gray means tired. He actually likes it. Then Claire sees it. She flips through a few pages and laughs. “Oh my God.” I look at her. “What?” “You made him a feelings picture book?” Gray says, “It helps.” “I’m sure it does.” She hands it back to him. “Very cute. Probably not something a grown man should need, though.” Gray puts it away. I never see it again. Tonight is his twenty-ninth birthday. Claire books a private room at his favorite restaurant. His teammates are here, his agent is here, and a bunch of guys from college are already drinking. I’m standing outside the door with a ring in my coat pocket. Yeah. A ring. I’ve had it for two months. Simple platinum band. Nothing flashy. I’m going to ask him to marry me. Then I hear Claire laugh. “One last test.” I stop. Someone says, “You’re still doing this?” “He needs to know.” “Know what?” “If Lena sees the picture and still stays, then we know she really loves him.” My hand tightens around the ring box. Another guy says, “What picture?” Claire sounds amused. “The one of me and Gray in bed.” Someone mutters, “Jesus, Claire.” “What?” she says. “I’m helping.” A few people laugh. Then she adds, “Nobody is this easy for three years for free.” One of Gray’s college friends goes, “Maybe she really loves children’s books.” Claire laughs. “Please. She dates an NFL quarterback and draws rabbits for a living. Let’s not act confused.” More laughter. Then someone says, “So you think she wants the money?” Claire says, “I think she wants to be Mrs. Hale.” I wait for Gray to shut it down. He doesn’t. Instead he asks, “You really think that’s what this is?” Claire answers right away. “Gray, come on. She lives in your place, you cover basically everything, and she gets to play artist all day. What do you think?” My stomach drops. Then Gray asks, “So what do I do?” I push the door open. Everybody shuts up. Claire is standing beside him with her phone in her hand. On the screen is a picture of her and Gray in bed. Gray looks at me. Then at the hand I still have in my coat pocket. “So that’s it?” he asks. “You did all this because you wanted to be Mrs. Hale?” I just stare at him. I came here to ask this man to marry me. And he’s still asking Claire what I mean. Something in me just gives up. I take my hand out of my pocket. “No.” Then I turn around and leave.

The next morning, I start packing. I don’t have that much stuff at Gray’s place. Clothes. Shoes. My laptop. About a million sketchbooks. I’m clearing out the bottom drawer when I find the little emotion book I made for him. I haven’t seen it in months. I flip it open. Red means angry. Blue means sad. Yellow means happy. Gray means tired. There are little drawings next to everything because I’m a children’s book illustrator and apparently I can’t help myself. Gray used to like it. Then Claire saw it, laughed, and asked if I was planning to make him flash cards next. That was pretty much the end of that. I drop the book into a box. My phone buzzes. It’s my editor. Don’t forget—2 p.m. sharp. Everyone’s excited to finally meet you. I smile before I can stop myself. Today is the launch for my first picture book where my name is on the cover as both author and illustrator. I’ve been working on it for almost two years. I text back. Wouldn’t miss it. Someone pounds on the front door. I check the time. Seriously? When I open it, Claire is standing there with Mason and two of Gray’s college friends. Claire looks past me at the boxes. “Oh. Wow. You’re actually doing this.” “Yes.” She sighs. “Of course you are.” I reach for the door. “What do you want?” “Gray had the worst game of his career yesterday.” “I watched it.” “And then you walked out on him.” “Also true.” Claire looks me up and down. “You’re dressed.” “I have somewhere to be.” Mason frowns. “Where?” “My book launch.” Claire actually laughs. I look at her. “What?” “Nothing.” “Claire.” She smiles. “I just forgot about the book thing.” “It’s not a book thing. It’s my launch.” “Right. Sorry. Huge difference.” I grab my bag. “I’m leaving.” Claire blinks. “You’re serious?” “Yes.” “Gray barely slept.” “He’ll survive.” Her eyebrows go up. “Wow.” Mason cuts in. “Come on, Lena. He got destroyed on national TV.” “I know. I was there.” “And you’re going to leave him alone?” “He’s not alone. You’re all here.” One of the other guys looks at my bag. “Can’t they do the book thing without you?” “I wrote it.” He shrugs. “Okay, but it’s still a kids’ book.” Claire laughs under her breath. I look at her. She lifts both hands. “What? I didn’t say it.” “You didn’t have to.” I step toward the hall. Mason moves in front of the door. I stop. “Move.” “Just give Gray an hour.” “I don’t have an hour.” Claire leans against the wall. “Oh, right. Very tight schedule. Wouldn’t want to keep the preschool crowd waiting.” “Move.” She smiles. “You know, Gray loses one game and suddenly we find out where he ranks behind finger puppets.” “My work has nothing to do with his game.” “No, apparently not.” I reach for the door. Mason stays where he is. I look at him. “You’re literally blocking me.” “We’re asking you to stay.” “From in front of the door.” Nobody moves. Then one of the guys says, “It’s not like you need the money, Lena. Gray pays for everything anyway.” I go still. Claire gives him a look. “Mason.” For half a second, I think she’s going to tell him to shut up. Instead she looks at me. “I mean, he’s not wrong.” I stare at her. She shrugs. “Gray gives you a pretty nice life. You get to draw your little books, set your own hours, do your creative thing. The least you could do is show up when he actually needs you.” “My little books?” Claire smiles. “You know what I mean.” “No. I really don’t.” The elevator dings behind them. Claire looks over my shoulder. Her smile gets wider. “Well.” I turn around. Gray steps out.

Gray steps out of the elevator. I just stare at him. He looks tired. Really tired. But that’s it. No emergency. No breakdown. No reason for Claire and half his social circle to be standing in my doorway like somebody died. Gray looks at my bag. “You’re leaving?” I almost laugh. “Yes.” Claire folds her arms. “See?” I look at her. “See what?” She gives Gray a look. “Exactly what I told you.” Gray rubs the back of his neck. “Lena, can we talk?” “I have to go.” “To the book thing?” I stop. “The launch.” “Right.” Claire lets out this little laugh. “Careful, Gray. Apparently that’s a very important distinction.” I ignore her. Gray looks at me. “I had the worst game of my career last night.” “I know.” “I threw three picks.” “I know.” “We lost because of me.” “I know.” He looks frustrated now. “And you’re still going?” I blink. “Yes.” Claire actually smiles. “There it is.” I turn to her. “What?” “The priorities.” I laugh once. “My priorities?” “You heard me.” She gestures toward Gray. “He gets humiliated in front of the entire country, and you’re worried about signing picture books.” “My book.” “Sure.” She shrugs. “Your book.” I look back at Gray. “You knew about this launch.” “I did.” “For six weeks.” “I know.” “So why are we having this conversation?” “Because things changed.” “No. You lost a game.” His face hardens. Claire cuts in immediately. “Wow.” I look at her. “What now?” “Nothing. I just love how casual you are about it.” “About what?” “His career.” I stare at her. Then I laugh. “His career?” “Yes, Lena. His career. The one millions of people actually watch.” There it is. Mason looks away. Nobody says anything. I look at Gray. “Say something.” He does. Just not what I want. “She’s not completely wrong.” For a second, I honestly think I heard him wrong. “What?” Gray sighs. “I’m not saying your work doesn’t matter.” Claire mutters, “Here we go.” He keeps talking. “I’m saying this isn’t the same.” My chest goes tight. “What isn’t?” He looks at me like this should be obvious. “An NFL season and a kids’ book launch.” I just stare at him. Behind him, Claire gives this tiny shrug like, finally. I nod. “Okay.” Gray frowns. “Okay what?” “Now I get it.” “Lena—” “No. I get it.” I point at him. “Your job matters.” Then I point at myself. “Mine is cute.” “That’s not what I said.” “It’s exactly what you said.” Claire sighs. “God, you always do this. Nobody said you can’t draw your books.” I look at her. “My books?” She smiles. “You know what I mean.” “I do.” That’s the problem. I grab my bag. “I’m done.” Gray steps toward me. “With what?” I look right at him. “With us.” The hallway goes quiet. Gray actually looks confused. “You’re breaking up with me because I lost a game?” I laugh. “No.” Claire jumps in. “Gray, don’t. She wants a reaction.” I look at her. Then at him. And of course he listens. Of course he does. “You want to know if I ever loved you?” I ask. Gray’s face changes. I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the velvet box. Nobody says a word. “I brought this last night.” Gray looks at the box. “What is that?” I open it. His face goes completely still. “I was going to ask you to marry me.” Claire stops smiling. Gray looks at me. Then at the ring. “You were going to propose?” “Yeah.” “Then why did you leave?” I actually laugh. “Are you serious?” Claire says, “It’s a fair question.” I look at her. “Of course you think it is.” Then I close the box. Gray takes a step closer. “Lena.” “No.” I put the ring back in my pocket. “You wanted proof.” His face goes pale. “You had it.” I grab my bag. “Now move.”

I grab my bag and head for the door. Mason doesn’t move. I stop right in front of him. “Move.” He looks over at Gray. Seriously? I look at Gray too. “Tell him to move.” Gray rubs a hand over his face. “Lena, just give me ten minutes.” “I don’t have ten minutes.” Claire laughs. “Right. The picture books.” I turn toward her. “My launch starts in forty minutes.” She checks her watch like she’s doing me a favor. “Oh, wow. Then I guess the NFL can wait.” “Claire, shut up.” Her eyebrows go up. “Touchy.” I reach for the door handle. Mason puts an arm across the doorway. Not touching me. Just blocking it. I stare at him. “You cannot be serious.” “Just hear Gray out.” “I already did.” One of the college guys leans against the wall. “Lena, come on. It’s one book event.” I look at him. “It’s my first launch.” “Okay.” He shrugs. “The book still exists tomorrow.” Claire laughs. “Exactly.” I look at her. She smiles back. “What? Am I wrong?” “Yes.” “Sure.” She glances at my bag. “I’m just saying, Gray loses on national television, and somehow the emergency here is story time.” My face gets hot. “It’s not story time.” “Sorry.” She puts a hand over her chest. “Author event.” Mason actually laughs. I look at all of them. “This is funny to you?” Nobody answers. Gray steps closer. “Lena, nobody’s saying your work is a joke.” I look straight at Claire. “She is.” Claire shrugs. “I mean, if the shoe fits.” “Claire.” Gray finally sounds annoyed. She looks at him. “What? You want me to pretend drawing cartoon animals is the same as carrying an NFL team?” I laugh once. “There it is.” She smiles. “There what is?” “What you actually think of me.” Claire doesn’t even hesitate. “I think Gray gives you a very comfortable life.” My stomach drops. She keeps going. “You live here. You don’t worry about rent. You set your own schedule. You get to sit around and draw all day.” “I work.” “Okay.” That little smile again. “You work.” One of the guys mutters, “It’s not like she needs the money anyway.” I look at him. Claire points at him. “See? He said it, not me.” “You agree with him.” “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to.” Gray says, “Can we please stop doing this?” I look at him. “Then let me leave.” He pauses. That’s all it takes. Claire notices too. She tilts her head. “Wow.” I turn to her. “What now?” “Nothing. I just think it’s interesting.” “What is?” “Last night you were ready to marry him.” She looks at the ring box still in my hand. “And today you can’t give him ten minutes because you need to go sign books for preschoolers.” I take a step toward her. “Get out of my way.” She doesn’t move. Neither does Mason. My phone buzzes. My editor. Where are you? We’re starting soon. My chest tightens. I shove the phone back into my bag. “I’m done asking.” I push past Mason. He grabs my arm. Not hard. Hard enough. I yank it back. “Don’t touch me.” Gray steps forward. “Mason, let her go.” Finally. I pull the door open. Claire calls after me. “Hope the bunnies are worth it, Lena.” I turn around. She’s smiling. Gray isn’t. I look at him. “You wanted to know why I’m leaving?” I point at all of them. “This.” Then I slam the door behind me and run for the elevator.