There were three and a half weeks between the ACC Championship game and the first round of the college football playoffs. For all but four teams, the college football season was over, and as the practices and game-planning continued, it was finally starting to sink in that we were one of those four teams.

Did Clemson sneak in undeserved? Should our spot have been given to Florida State instead? It was a hotly debated topic on pretty much every sports news program from ESPN down to the local South Carolina sports blogger. All the hearsay and all the chatter seemed to ignite something in Reid - something ravenous and animalistic that smelled blood.

Any down time that we had more or less consisted of Reid and I being physically incapable of keeping our hands off of each other. Or our mouths. The ravenous animal he was on the field had spilled over into the bedroom, and I relished it. Part of me would always love this side of him. I've had to cover up solar systems of hickeys on my neck and collarbone, and I was sure he got some side-eyes in the locker room about the scratches on his back.

The only time we had to take a truly planned and intentional break from touching each other was to get Reid fitted for his new suit for the Heisman ceremony. Even though all the experts and analysts claim that Reid's performance in the ACC Championship game shouldn't affect his odds, we all knew better. Any time there was human involvement, you had to assume humans would behave like humans do - they'd see his stat line and go well, is that really our Heisman winner? They can't unsee the game, whether they're supposed to use it in consideration for his voting or not.

The odds between Reid and Cade were all but tied now, and seeing the betting line on Instagram made me want to vomit.

"What do you think?" Reid's voice brought me back to the present, and I quickly swiped out of Instagram.

We'd been sequestered to the back of MH Frank, an upscale men's store on Clemson's campus where a lot of the guys on the team got their suits and accouterments, reminiscent of an old country gun club with old rifles and animal heads mounted on the deep wood paneled wall. Whether those animal heads were real or not was yet to be determined.

Reid had special-ordered a suit when his Heisman nomination came out, since the ceremony was more or less a massive dog and pony show at Jazz at the Lincoln Center in New York City, and he couldn't keep wearing the same suit from Macy's that Missy had gotten him last year. He stood in front of one of those three paneled mirrors, wearing a pastel teal suit and a crisp white shirt that had been tailored to fit his body perfectly.

"Do a little twirl so I can see all of it," I spun my finger around with a grin, sitting back in one of the plush leather chairs in their special suit-fitting area.

He obliged, waddling around in a slow circle like a penguin. "Are you sure you're not making me do this just so you can check out my ass?"

"Your ass looks great," I reassured him, softening the smile I gave him. "You look great. Blue is so your color."

Reid groaned and ran his hand down the side of his face before spinning back around to look at his reflection. "You think so?"

I scoffed. "Yes, my goodness. I cannot believe I have to remind you how good looking you are. How are you the same guy that had me bent over his bed this morning practically screaming his name?"

Reid's face burned scarlet, but he still managed a little smirk. "Entirely different circumstances."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are they really, though?"

Before our banter got a little too lewd for our current location, the elderly salesman hobbled on up to us.

"Will your girlfriend be needing a dress? Something to subtly match, perhaps?"

I snapped upright in the chair. "Oh, I'm not..." I glanced over at Reid, whose gaze had fallen to his shoes. I gave the salesman a thin smile. "I'm just here for moral support. And fashion advice."

The salesman gave me a polite nod before turning his attention back to Reid. "Everything to your liking, Mr. Donahue?"

"Yes sir," Reid nodded. "This is the one."

The salesman patted him on the shoulder. "Alright, you can get changed. I'll start ringing everything up."

The silence was suddenly very loud, and I watched his reflection in the mirror as he slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. I got up from the chair and hugged him from behind, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry," I sighed out, pressing my cheek into his back. "I just...I didn't know what to say. We haven't really...had that conversation yet."

The r-word conversation, dreaded by all even when you were as sickly inseparable as we had been lately.

"You don't have to say anything," he mumbled. He spun around in my arms, pressing his forehead against mine. "But you do know you're coming with me, right?"

"I am?" I pulled away slightly, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Uh, yeah." He looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"Because you haven't asked me!" I blurted out in a whisper-yell, careful not to attract the attention of any other patrons in the store who undoubtedly knew Reid Donahue was getting fitted for his Heisman ceremony fit.

A jolt of insecurity pulsed through me. It was one thing for us to be hanging around on campus, having sleepovers, and letting whatever this thing that was going on between us grow and evolve of its own accord. The Heisman ceremony was a nationally televised event, meaning whoever watched it would see me standing next to him and assume the obvious things. Suddenly, I felt very inadequate.

"What is this, high school prom?" Reid scoffed. "Do you want me to make you a sign with glitter on it?"

"That would have been nice." I heard a trembling in my voice.

Reid sighed and took a step back, his nice new shirt now all untucked and wrinkled at the hem. "Jo...I need you there."

I gulped my heart down. "You do?"

"It doesn't even have to be as my date, my girlfriend, whatever, I don't care." He paused and heaved out a breath. "You ground me. You always have. Whether I win or lose this thing...I just want you to be there as you."

He held his hands out to me, and when I took them he lifted me into a hug if I were nothing more than a few feathers in the wind, taking all that insecurity with it. "Please," he whispered in my ear.

"Of course," I surrendered with a sigh and a soft smile when he put me down, his arms still around me. "I guess I can wear the dress I wore to the ACC kickoff dinner, and-"

"No. I will buy you a new dress." He brushed my hair back with his hand and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "And I will buy the whole row of the plane out so you can squish yourself in the window seat and I can spread myself out."

"Are you bribing me?" I asked with a coy smirk.

"Depends, is it working?"

I let out a comical groan. "We'll see how much you regret these decisions when I'm actually on the plane."

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I slept most of the flight up to New York. There was a fleeting moment of consciousness towards the end of the trip, and as the sound of my new necessary repetition flying song Concrete Jungle by The Green Inferno cycled through my headphones, I managed to glance over at Reid. His head was down, scribbling something onto what looked like a napkin the stewardesses handed out with drinks.

"What are you doing?" I grumbled, still half asleep. 

He reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."

So I did, feeling him gently draw circles on my thigh with his thumb. 

I decided it was easier for all parties involved to not mention to my family that I was in New York for the weekend. My mother would try and finagle her way into meeting up since she'd claim she could make it into the city in 40 minutes, and then I'd be forced to tell her that I have no time, and then she'd take that personally and I'd end up feeling guilty.

The Heisman committee always wanted their nominees to get there a day early so they could all socialize and make nice (which I did not anticipate from Cade Martello). There were a slew of scheduled interviews, the obligatory trip to the top of the Empire State Building, and all kinds of little things for social media content.

The Heisman trophy was, after all, the crown jewel of college football. Once you became a Heisman winner, you were part of the brotherhood for life, your name permanently etched onto the trophy alongside every single Heisman winner since the 1950s.

I'd be remiss to say Reid and I didn't christen our hotel room about ten minutes after we got there, but we had to go our separate ways for the day shortly after. Reid's parents were getting there that afternoon, and I was planning on meeting up with Missy while Charlie took Lily Lou to the massive American Girl Doll store in Times Square.

December in the city was not December in South Carolina, and Missy and I were wildly unprepared for the delicate sprinkling of snow that started to come down as we left the hotel.

"It's a shame the big tree isn't up yet," Missy said as she brushed a few snowflakes off of the sleeve of her jacket. 

"It's really not all that special, I promise," I told her, folding my arms over my chest as a few guys in suits dashed in front of us, probably desperate for central heating. "Want to see something cooler?"

"That depends," Missy replied with a chuckle. "Is it far? Because my feet are already starting to hurt in these new sneakers."

"It's close, don't worry," I offered her a smile and began to lead her down 51st street. "15 minute walk, max."

It was only a few blocks away, and given the time of year, the little courtyard in midtown was empty. Walls of greenery snaked their way up the sides of the buildings on either side of the park, and there were a few wrought iron tables and chairs just close enough to not get wet from the water cascading down a stone wall from an unseen source.

"Well I'll be damned," Missy's thick Georgia accent came out in full force. "That's an honest to god waterfall."

"I used to come here all the time," I told her as we sat down at one of the tables. "When I was in high school and we were old enough to come into the city without parents, this little park was such a hot commodity because it was like a secret, locals only thing. We thought we were so cool because we felt like real New Yorkers."

"So what made you want to go all the way to South Carolina then?" she asked.

I sighed, and my breath materialized in a puff of smoke in front of me. "In such a big place, it's really easy to feel alone. I wanted to feel like I really belonged somewhere, instead of just a number in a crowd. I wasn't sure I would grow the way I wanted to here."

Missy smiled and nodded in understanding. "Wise girl."

We sat in silence for a little while, sipping our too-hot Starbucks coffees and listening to the sound of the water. I wasn't sure what possessed me to say it. Maybe it was just because she made me feel like I could trust her without ever having to actually say it. Maybe it was the fact that we were in a city with millions of people, but in that moment, we were alone, and I wasn't ready for anyone else to hear me yet. "I really love your son, you know."

Missy offered me a sweet smile as she reached over and touched my cheek with a cold hand. "Oh honey, I know. I have never seen two people look at each other the way y'all do."

It was the first time I'd said it to someone other than Reid himself. I wasn't sure why I'd kept it in for so long. It was almost like I believed in the jinx after all, and saying it out loud would make it unsacred.

"Do you think he'll win?" she asked me, looking down into her coffee. Even though I'd only been around Missy a handful of times, I'd never seen her look so serious.

I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, I do. I really do."

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i cannot even believe i'm saying this but bless daniel riccardo for this ridiculous beats campaign that gave us USABLE JOSH GIFS (but also stop rubbing your loser vibes on my elite quarterback tysm)

6 chapters to go. heisman ceremony next. do y'all think reid's gonna win it?