"Please, baby. You always come to my games," Gabe whines, his helmet in his hands as he looks at where you're sitting on the bed.

You had been with Gabe since he was the quarterback of the high school football team, and now, after all these years of practicing, he made it to the National Football League.

"I want you to be the first person I look at when I win the game," he grins, putting his helmet down on the bedside table. "You don't even need to work with how famous and good I am."