Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I caught him under the arms to keep him stable.
“Fucking knee,” he muttered, then in the same breath shook his head, still smiling broadly at me. “I’m so goddamn proud of you right now, G. I hope you know that. The Rush is lucky as hell to have you.”
I could see the pride in his smile, hear it in his voice, even if it was tinged with a bit of wistfulness. Houston never begrudged anyone anything, and I pushed aside my guilt to hug him fiercely before releasing him.
I was then bodily passed around the rest of the room for more congratulations, more back slaps, more hugs. Someone sloshed beer on my arm. Uncle Mick didn’t seem to know what the fuck was going on, but matched the high spirits of everyone else. Probably he was just high in general.
I didn’t think I’d ever been the recipient of so much affection in my life, and I couldn’t deny it felt good.
When Ramsey closed in, he flashed me a mischievous wink before hooking my neck and drawing me in, our chests smashing together.
“Did you know?” I asked.
“Nope. You know we’re in the dark too. But they made a solid choice.”
I was briefly overwhelmed by the sensation of his body against mine. The firmness, his scent. I realized I’d never been hugged by him before, and God, it was enormously distracting. And also, too short. The next moment, he let me go.
A few hours later, the party had died down. Dad had fallen asleep in the recliner. Or maybe passed out was more appropriate. Four beers and he was toast. Mom rolled her eyes affectionately and covered him with a blanket, then made Houston and Ramsey come into the kitchen with her so she could fix them each containers of leftovers.
I walked with them out to their cars, Houston snagging me in another hug before heading around to the driver’s side of his SUV. I noted the slight limp as he moved.
“See you in the a.m.?” Ramsey called out.
“Maybe,” Houston called back. “Don’t hesitate to start without me. I’m tapped tonight. I might need a day off. You heading home?”
“In a few. I want to talk to Garrett for a second.”
The fact that he’d bothered with my actual name put me on edge, but I lifted a hand nonchalantly as Houston climbed into his seat. “His knee’s bothering him.”
“Yep. He’ll probably skip tomorrow. It’s getting better, overall, though. I know you worry about it. He worries about you too.”
I didn’t reply. I was well aware. He’d always worried about me.
As soon as his taillights disappeared, Ramsey turned to me, piercing me with his blue stare that hit me like the snap of static on a cold day.
“You don’t want the Rush.”
I’d never gotten used to the casual way Ramsey could cut to my core unexpectedly. I snorted in response. “Sure I do,” I lied. “Like I said before, I don’t care where I play, I just…” Ramsey’s annoyingly placid, take-no-bullshit stare deflated the defense I wanted to mount. I sighed. “Fine. I didn’t want the Rush. I wanted San Fran. Was it that obvious?”
“Nope. Don’t think so.” He backed up a couple of steps and dropped onto the brick retaining wall, then slapped the empty space beside him.
“Nah, I don’t need some pep talk. I’m good with it, I swear.” But when he smacked the wall insistently again, I let out another sigh and sat after a glance over my shoulder to make sure Mom and Dad were still inside. “You’re annoying.”
“I know.” His smile was unapologetic as he shrugged, and as annoying as he was, and as annoying as my persistent crush on him was, it was that very first encounter with him four years ago, where he’d told me to keep my focus, and the earnest, intent way he’d said it, that had lingered in the back of my mind all through college. It was behind every time I thought about skipping a class or slacking at practice. It was behind the extra reps in the gym, the extra hours I spent watching tape and studying plays. Not that I’d been perfect. I’d definitely gone on the field hungover more than once, and done some stupid shit I’d been lucky not to get busted for. But I’d done everything I set out to do so far. And Ramsey was a part of it.
“Since I first met you, you’ve been wanting something of your own. Separate from Houston. And now you feel you’re back in his shadow again. Having to live up to or live out his career in a way? Is that what’s going on?”
“No,” I bit off. Fuck his scary accuracy. “Okay, yeah. A little bit. Or a lot.” There were other factors too. Life seemed like it might be easier without having to be around Ramsey all the time. Crushes were weird like that. It wasn’t as if I’d spent day in and day out over the past four years thinking about him. I hadn’t. I’d dated people, and fully explored my bisexuality—and I mean fully. I’d fallen in love and fallen out of love. But no matter how infrequently I saw him, that smolder I’d felt upon first meeting him came rushing back every single time, like something dormant inside me coming back to life.