Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Danny knew what she was trying to do, and it made his heart go all odd and achy. “There was a second part to that dream,” he reminded her. “I wanted to play for my country.” For the best team in the entire world. “I wanted to wear the black jersey. That hasn’t changed, Catie.”
“Yeah, but as long as you’re playing, the dream’s alive. I mean, look at Viliame.”
Danny parted his lips, closed them. Because she was right. Vili had one of the most iconic comeback stories in the game. And he’d come back from not playing after a freak infection saw him in the intensive care unit, then in rehabilitation for months. Danny’s friend had lost most of his body weight, so skinny and weak by the time he was taken off the machines that Danny had barely been able to breathe when he looked at him.
Not because of Viliame’s appearance—but because of what it might augur. Danny had been sixteen when Jake’s girlfriend—Esme’s mother—died. He knew what could happen in hospitals, knew that sometimes, people didn’t come out. And Calypso had been sick too. Meningitis. It had stolen her life before she’d ever had the chance to spread her wings.
So yeah, he’d been fucked up at seeing Viliame hooked up to all those machines. But he’d been there for his friend, as had Jake and the others on the team. They’d come and hung out with him at his rehab sessions, hyping him up each time he hit a goal. Then later, Viliame had always had a mate with whom he could train.
Four years on and he was an integral part of his club team and had made the national squad multiple times.
“I shouldn’t moan, huh?” he said. “After Vili came back from that?”
“Ahem, not the misery Olympics, remember?”
He sucked in a breath. “Yeah, got it.” Weaving his fingers through hers, he let everything move through his head.
Catie didn’t interrupt, as if she could guess exactly what he was doing. She probably could. It should’ve been scary to be with someone who knew him that deep, but it wasn’t. It was… peaceful. He didn’t have to worry about any kind of shield or wall or image. He could be himself, flaws and scars and bad habits and all.
Catie gasped.
Following the trajectory of her shining eyes, he began to laugh, joy chasing out the remaining slivers of tension. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bag.”
One of Catie’s long-term addictions was a particular franchise of roadside stands that sold freshly roasted nuts. Candied pecans with crunchy almond coating was her drug of choice.
“Why are they even open?” Catie said as they joined the queue of three. “It’s after midnight.”
The person in front of them turned around. “Concert,” she said. “Stand hit the crowds going in and is probably waiting for them to exit for a second go-around.”
“Good we got here before the masses,” Danny said.
The other woman nodded, then headed up to place her order. Soon enough, it was their turn. After he’d paid and they were walking again, Catie happily munching on her snack while he took the odd one, he realized he was happier than he’d been for a long time.
Not that he’d been depressed or anything. He’d just felt… off. He still couldn’t explain why. Or why that feeling had crept into his game. He just knew that things were different when he was with Catie.
Were better.
“Daniel Esera!” The high-pitched squeal had him wanting to hide behind Catie, but it was too late.
Two women in fluffy coats over party dresses tottered over on spiked heels. “I love you, Daniel!” one screamed. “Can we get a picture?” She thrust her phone at Catie.
Who looked annoyed because that meant an interruption of her pecan feast. But she grabbed the camera and hooked an eyebrow at Danny. He was in no mood for photos with strangers, but figuring it’d be faster to get this over and done with, he gave her a nod.
A few seconds later, with him making sure the tipsy women didn’t get handsy, the photo was done. But then the squealer pulled aside her coat to bare rather impressive cleavage. “Will you sign me?” She somehow had a marker in her hand and was waving it in his face.
“Er,” Danny began, taken aback.
“Against his contract,” Catie said smoothly. “Could get him done for harassment.” She sounded super sorry and serious.
The women’s faces fell. “Oh no,” the brunette one said. “What a bummer.”
“You have the photo.” Catie soothed them. “Oh hey, we better get going. Looks like the concert is letting out. We don’t want to be stuck in the crowd.” She was hauling Danny away before the women could argue.
He was supremely happy to be hauled.
“Is it because of stuff like that?” he asked after they were out of hearing range of the women.