Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Did you win?” she asks excitedly.
“We did. Beat ‘em by twenty, although I’m probably in trouble because I ditched out on the press conference.”
“Why would you do that?”
I shrug. “So I could see you.”
Peyton leans back, resting her head on her pillow. Our eyes never leave each other. I find myself rising out of my seat about ready to kiss her.
“Tell me what I’ve missed. How did Chicago do this week?”
My ass hits the chair with a clunk. “Right. Chicago. Zimmerman. Um…” I scratch the back of my head with one hand and pull my phone out with the other, avoiding eye contact with her. I’ve had it on ‘do not disturb’ since before my game, and by the sheer amount of notifications from Dessie, I’m glad that I have. I grow frustrated with my phone and her name each time a new text comes in. It’s like she knows I’m on my phone and has decided to light it up with messages. “Come on, Dessie,” I mumble under my breath, hoping Peyton doesn’t hear me.
“She’s probably upset you’re here.”
“Among other things,” I say, waiting for the sports app to load. Right now I wish I had my iPad so we could look at the highlights and scores on there instead of my phone. Something tells me Dessie isn’t going to stop texting until I speak with her. I hold the phone sideways and press play on the blooper reel from this past weekend. Hearing Peyton laugh has to be hands down the best sound in the world right now. Even thinking for a minute, I’d never hear it again has my throat seizing up.
Once the clip is done, I find the broadcast from ESPN and play it for her. The first thing they talk about is Zimmerman. I don’t really know the guy, but I hate him right now, and I have no right to other than he was the one behind the wheel when Peyton was hurt. Throughout the time she’s watching, Dessie continues to light up my phone.
“Maybe you should call her.”
I lock my screen and slip it back into my pocket. “Tell me about Zimmerman,” I say, avoiding Peyton’s statement. “How long have you been dating.”
“Kyle and I aren’t dating, at least I don’t think we are.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t remember much from that day, but from what my mom says, I met Kyle at the game. He told the police he asked me out to dinner, and I guess I said yes.”
“Do you like him?”
Peyton laughs. “I don’t know. Why the interrogation?”
“No reason.” I shake my head because it’s not exactly true. I have a ton of reasons, but I don’t know if the timing is right. Is it? It should be, but I don’t want Peyton to think my feelings are only because she’s had a near-death experience, and telling her now makes it seem that way.
My mind is a damn mess. Do this. Do that. Tell her. Don’t tell her. Yet, I don’t know which way to go. I want nothing more than to tell her that I’m in love with her and ask her for a chance, but what if it’s not what she wants? Maybe Zimmerman is more her speed. Maybe Peyton looks at me like a brother, and that kiss… it could’ve freaked her out.
“You look like you’re a million miles away, Noah.”
“I am, I think. I don’t know. I just…”
“You just what?”
I finally look at Peyton, sweet and caring, beautiful and perfect, and kissable. The kiss I gave her in the middle of the night meant everything to me. It’s how I want to spend the rest of my days, kissing her, making her feel loved, showing her she means everything to me.
“You kissed me earlier,” she blurts out, breaking my reverie.
“You remember?”
She nods and pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth as if she’s meaning to torment me.
“Good. I’m glad. I meant that kiss, Peyton.” I rise up and lean toward her, gripping the bed rail strongly to hold me up. I’m afraid to touch her. Scared I’ll hurt her.
Peyton places her hand in front of me, halting my slow progress toward her mouth. “I have a question, well it’s more of a statement.”
“Anything,” I say, without moving.
“I don’t want to be the side chick, someone you come and see when you’re not playing or fly to tropical destinations. If you’re going to kiss me, it’s because you want me, and only me.”
“Dessie and I broke up, Peyton, because I’m in love with you. Now before you say anything, hear me out. I have felt this way… well for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, it took almost losing you for me to open my eyes. I realized I’m with Dessie for all the wrong reasons and the feelings I have for her, pale in comparison to what I feel for you. We have a ton of hurdles if we want to give us a chance. That is, if you want to try this.”