Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“I love you,” he whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear.
It takes effort to pry my eyes open as I stare at the ceiling and hold onto him for dear life. The sentiment sits perched on the tip of my tongue, ready to be echoed back, but I can’t force it out.
After a few silent moments, he lifts his face to stare down at me as his gaze searches mine in the velvety darkness that fills the room. His brows tug together as he presses his lips gently to the corner of one eye and then to the other.
“Don’t cry.”
Only then do I realize that tears sting my eyes. So few people have said those three precious words to me. Coming from Asher, they mean absolutely everything.
He lowers his face to mine and kisses away all the wetness before pulling out of my body and rolling from the bed. He makes quick work of discarding the condom before padding into the attached bathroom. A moment later, he returns with a warm washcloth.
It stirs memories of the first time we slept together and how surprised and embarrassed I’d been when he placed the soft, cottony material between my legs to clean me off. Now, I find the action oddly comforting. Sweet, even.
My heart clenches as he presses the warm fabric to my pussy before carefully wiping away my arousal. Once finished, he returns to the bathroom and discards the towel before sliding back into bed. Gathering me into his arms, he holds me close.
“I meant what I said,” he whispers against my ear. “That wasn’t just the orgasm talking.”
Even though he’s trying to make light of his declaration, I can’t bring myself to laugh. My life is far from perfect, but with Asher, it feels surprisingly close to it. This man makes me happy.
Happier than I ever dreamed I could be.
No one has ever managed to rouse these kinds of tender feelings. It’s like I blinked, and he became my everything. He’s been so gentle, taking such care with me, and I want to do the same for him. It’s important that I put his needs above my own. Which is exactly why I can’t allow him to miss the championship game. I won’t let him sacrifice something so important. Something that has far-reaching consequences and the potential to impact his future.
No matter what I have to do to make it happen, Asher will be at that game.
35
ASHER
With a flick of my fingers, I unsnap the chin strap and pull off the helmet before shaking out my damp hair. It might be freeze-your-ass-off-cold outside, but the stadium is heated. Even though there are two weeks before the final game, Coach is still working us over and riding our asses, making sure the team is prepared. Six days a week, we’re on the field, running routes, going over plays, and watching game film.
“Dude, that’s so uncalled for.”
I glance at Crosby and Easton as we fall into line on the way to the locker room. That’s the moment it hits me that I’ll miss playing ball with these guys. We won the final playoff game last week, guaranteeing our spot in the championship.
Something sharp twists in the pit of my gut at the realization that I won’t be going to California. I’ve stepped foot on the field with my teammates for the last time. After spending the past four seasons with these men, the Western Wildcats have become my family. Maybe we don’t always see eye to eye, but we look out for each other. It’s impossible to imagine developing the same kinds of relationships with future teammates. Rowan, Brayden, Easton, Carson, Crosby, and I all came in at the same time. We clicked on the field and got close fast.
Even I understand how rare that kind of friendship is.
Rowan jogs toward our trio before slowing his pace once he reaches my side.
When I give him a chin lift in greeting, he says, “Coach told me you’re bailing on the championship game.”
Fuck.
This isn’t a topic I wanted to discuss with them. At least, not yet. I was planning on saying something when we got a little closer to the big day. Like, right before the bus pulled out of the athletic center parking lot.
Crosby snorts. “Get the hell out of here, Michaels. Of course Stevens will be there.”
When I remain silent, Crosby knocks into my shoulder with his own. “Right, dumbass?”
I glare at him as everyone turns their attention to me.
When I remain silent, the blond QB says, “He wasn’t playing around, was he?”
“Have you ever known Coach Richards to joke when we’re this deep into the season?” Easton asks.
“Nope,” Rowan admits. “So, what’s going on? I can’t imagine a reason you’d miss this game.”
That’s the funny thing—if you’d asked me two months ago, I would have said that nothing could keep me from playing in the last game of my college career. Now, everything has changed. It doesn’t feel as important as it once did.