“It was, like, three weeks after my four-year-long boyfriend and I had broken up,” Camille Kostek confessed with a laugh, recounting the wildly awkward timing of her first meet-cute with Rob Gronkowski. Picture this: November 2013, a Patriots charity event, and a freshly single Kostek—rocking her cheer uniform like a rom-com protagonist—locking eyes with a 6’6” tight end who’d just won a Super Bowl. If life were a movie, this scene would’ve had a 10 Things I Hate About You soundtrack. But instead, it’s just Gronk being Gronk: ripping name tags, scribbling his number, and accidentally kickstarting a love story that’d outlast his NFL career.

Let’s set the scene. Thanksgiving week, 2013. The Patriots are prepping baskets for families in need, Kostek’s rocking her rookie cheerleader sparkle, and Gronk’s… well, being Gronk. “I remember the first time really locking eyes with him at this Goodwill charity event, which actually is so weird…I remember being stopped before going into the changing room,” Kostek recalled, describing how she paused to listen to Gronkowski chat with the press about community work. “It was my first time… listening to him and not watching him play football.” Cue the zooms of destiny.

But here’s the kicker: Team rules strictly banned fraternizing. Think Remember the Titans levels of “no mixing.” So how’d Gronk shoot his shot? “He ripped off his ‘Hi, my name is Rob Gronkowski’ sticker… wrote his number on the back,” Kostek shared. Smooth? More like a Hail Mary pass. She waited weeks to text him—partly ’cause she was nursing a breakup, partly ’cause, well, “I don’t even know how we’d lock eyes at a game unless he looked at me from across the sidelines.” Spoiler: He totally did.

Their first date? “We went to the movies, sat in the back, and had our hoodies up,” Kostek admitted. No red carpets, no paparazzi—just two kids sneaking popcorn under the radar. Gronk, famously loud on the field, played it cool: “Camille and I met during Thanksgiving week. Therefore, I am very thankful for the charity event we met at.” Cue awws from every Patriots fan in New England.

But let’s not forget the stakes. Kostek was a cheerleader; Gronk was a franchise icon. Getting caught meant possible fines, maybe even a benching. Yet, there they were—clandestine cinema trips, hushed diner dates, and Gronk sliding into DMs like he’d just scored a TD. “It wasn’t like, ‘Oh my god, he’s gonna be my next man,’” Kostek insisted. But by 2015, they were Instagram-official, proving love > playbooks.

From Foxborough to Tampa: A decade of squad goals

Fast-forward to 2025: Gronk’s retired (twice), Kostek’s a Sports Illustrated icon, and they’re the NFL’s answer to Jimmy Choo meets Jerry Rice. Celebrating 10 years together, Gronk gushed, “There’s been a lot of success in that decade… I wouldn’t be where I am without her.” Translation: Camille’s the Olivia Pope to his Gronk Spike.

Their traditions? Adorably chaotic. Take Thanksgiving: They once reenacted a “turkey drive-through” with their French Bulldog, Ralphie. Gronk played cashier; Ralphie “ordered” a drumstick. Or New Year’s 2024: A midnight kiss posted with the caption, “Cheers to more touchdowns… and less fumbles.” Even Valentine’s Day is peak them—“bubble baths and at-home massages” post-Super Bowl. It’s like The Notebook, but with more protein shakes.

Gronk’s stats? Legendary: 92 TDs, 9,286 yards, four Super Bowl rings. But off-field? He’s 0% “party Gronk,” 100% “Camille’s hype man.” When she launched her Own It body-positivity tour, he cheered louder than a Lambeau Field crowd. And when rumors swirled in 2025 about a Broncos comeback? Kostek just smirked: “We manage [our schedules] with perfection.”

As for Camille? She’s the girl who turned “cheerleader meets QB” tropes on their head. No damsel here—just a CEO-slash-model who once told Gronk, “I’m the most guaranteed risk you can take.” Ten years, countless hoodie dates, and one ripped name tag later? Safe to say she was right.

So here’s to the NFL’s quirkiest power couple: proof that sometimes, the best plays happen off the field. “IN-COM-PLETE!”? Nah, fam. This one’s all touchdown.