I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 133: Logan

A/N: Mature (ish) content (yep, ish... 😉).

The days Ellie got good news from Ryder's prison sentencing and the legal fallout of his parents, any words I had in response were obliterated by the emotion I felt from both the relief in her voice and the determined, loving look that she gave me. My arms immediately wrapped around her, I squeezed her into my chest, and placed a long, lingered kiss on her forehead. My heart coiled tightly in my chest so much I thought it'd burst under a pressure of emotions I hadn't known I was capable of feeling.

We celebrated the news the way we celebrated anything, a few tears, laughs, a meal together, and a lot of endorphin-released sex.

When Ellie told me her plans of what she wanted to do with her restitution money, a hardest determination rooted inside me. One decision from Ellie cemented all my major life decisions and I vowed to myself that I lived the rest of my life trying to emulate the amazing qualities that Ellie's heart possessed.

The feminist in Ellie probably slapped my arm or chest, because those were probably easier for her to reach than higher than my shoulders, but I set the rest of my college and post-college plans with one goal in mind.

Putting myself in the best position to take care of my girl.

The following year was one of the best years of my life. Ellie and I finished our junior years, she briefly returned home to California, where her mom decided not to sell their house right away. Despite more than two million dollars in her name, Ellie worked that shitty summer pizza job for a month then worked July and August back up in U-Dub's library and lived out the rest of our apartment's one-year lease like any broke college student. I spent a lot of the summer in and out of football camps and while the distance royally sucked, the days we were apart passed quickly and we were together again for our senior year.

We lived in the same tiny apartment our last year together at UW, although this time our living situation was planned. I worked harder than I ever had through every snap, every rep, every practice, and every game that season. A full year with the Huskies being 'my' team put us atop the PAC-12 Northern Division and this time we bested USC for the Division title.

Our 11-1 record was stellar and my stats were even better than last years', but our schedule was deemed weaker than other universities' and we got shafted. Every Husky player, coach, fan, and our unfortunate girlfriends who heard nothing but complaints about how we got screwed out of a national championship bowl game invite got a slight moment of redemption when we were invited to the Rose Bowl. We regrouped and barely hung on, but won huge over Ohio State University.

A lot of alumni attended the Rose Bowl game and met with the team beforehand, which included a much-welcome 6ft6, now 390-pound offensive lineman for the New Orlean Saints. Darrius and Monique were married last summer in one of the hottest, most humid, mosquito-covered, and insane Mardi Gras-like party atmosphere wedding I'd ever seen. We partied until three am and at one point every one of their three hundred guests in some trumpet-led dance line through the town of Shreveport. Ellie was thrilled when she sat with Monique and Darrius for the Rose Bowl, who already expected their first child together.

After the win, I took in the bittersweet moment, soaked in excitement beyond words and my body hummed with post-game adrenaline letdown. Physically and mentally, I wasn't quite ready to step off the field and say goodbye to the game that had blessed my life so much through high school and college, so I walked around the stadium after the post-game excitement died down.

Ellie ignored the sweat and grime the game left in my hand and held it tightly in hers. With the soft turf under our footsteps around Rose Bowl Stadium, I gushed out word vomit about how much I appreciated her support and presence both on and off the field, even during the first game where I socked her in the stomach with a football beforehand. She rolled her eyes, wiped away a few tears, kissed me roughly, and threatened to take me under the bleachers if I didn't shower soon and come back to her hotel room.