Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I was too much of a mess to be taken seriously, too impulsive to be trusted with something real, too all over the place to ever become someone a younger version of me would actually look up to.
And maybe that was why Braden’s question had lodged itself so deep under my skin.
What if you taught?
Because for the first time in a long time, I hadn’t laughed at the idea of something that had roots, that would be settled and final and sure. It would mean a home and a steady routine and young dancers who depended on me.
It scared me, but it also made me lean in.
It made me hope.
And hope was a dangerous thing when you weren’t sure you deserved the life you wanted.
“Shit,” Marcus murmured, his frown focused on his phone.
“What happened?” Darcy asked.
“I hate to be this person, but… can we turn on the game? We’re down by three with two minutes left in the fourth and we have the ball.”
Darcy and I blinked at each other, hesitating only a moment before she sprang into action turning on the TV while I all but climbed into Marcus’s lap to see the little update he had pulled up in the search engine.
Once the game was live, we all settled into the couch, curling up with a blanket spread across our laps. Marcus was chewing his nails, but Darcy laid her head on my shoulder, a soft calmness washing over her and right into me.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re the best dancer on the team,” she said, low enough to where only I could hear. “And whatever you decide to do after, I know it will be epic. Because you are.”
I squeezed her hand with a lump in my throat.
And then all our attention was on L.A.
Braden
We were on fire.
Seattle was well on its way to the playoffs if we kept winning the way we did — and it didn’t feel like anything, or any team, could stop us presently.
The Vikings had put up a hell of a fight, but we’d just played better. Our offense was working like a well-oiled machine, our defense an impenetrable wall, and our special teams delivering impeccable field position after every return.
I knew Leo had to be fuming. It was one thing to lose a game — that shit happened and we were used to taking it on the chin and moving on. But losing to a team two of your college teammates played on?
Brutal.
Kyle was so giddy he barely made it through a shower before he was running out into the hallway to meet up with Leo, itching to rub it in. I took my time running through my post-game rituals before I joined them.
A new part of that ritual, apparently, was Emily.
If it were a home game, I’d be rushing just the same as Kyle, desperate to get out of the stadium and back to my place with her. I’d be anxiously awaiting whatever freaky item on her checklist she was ready to check off. I’d be savoring every minute of her in my house, in my bed, in my arms.
Typically, during an away game, I’d be texting her, reveling in the banter she served like she was an all-star tennis player.
But tonight was a special kind of torture. It was an away game where she had traveled with the team for promotion and media — which meant she was close enough to see, to touch, to taste…
And yet I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
We flew on different planes, traveled to the stadium on different busses, and even staying at the same hotel, there’d been no way to sneak time with her without it being too risky. Now, we were about to load up on two different busses again.
I pulled out my phone once my bag was packed and ready.
Me: It’s going to fucking kill me to watch you load onto another bus again.
Trouble: Don’t worry, Boss. You can spend the flight back thinking about that touchdown you scored. I know that’s what I’ll be thinking of…
Me: Nothing could distract me from how much I want you right now.
Trouble: You can have me when we’re home.
Fuck, those words made my chest tighten.
You can have me.
Home.
Me: Not soon enough.
I waited for a text to come through, but when it didn’t after a moment and I realized the guys were all loading out, I tucked my phone away, wanting to have a little time with Leo before we had to go.
Kyle caught me just outside the visitors’ locker room, his duffle slung over one shoulder and his grin already loaded with shit I was sure would annoy me.
Fortunately, he must have already annoyed Leo, because I showed up just in time to watch our friend slug Kyle in the arm.