She arches a brow, but I plow ahead before she can argue.
“The last couple of months have been some of the hardest of my life, but they’ve been made easier by having you at my side. Whether we’re fighting or playing ball or kissing, it doesn’t matter. You bring out the best in me and you make all the insanity—the press, the pressure, the speculation—easier to bear. Because it’s just static. None of it matters. Not when I’m with you.”
“Austin—” Whatever she’s going to say, the words die on her tongue and she bites her lip as if she can trap the rest inside. Fine by me, because I’m not finished yet. Hell, I’m just getting warmed up. My blood’s pumping fast and my skin’s hot and the desire to take her in my arms is so fucking strong it requires all my self-control not to act on it. As desperate as I am to touch her right now, she’s made it clear she needs space. I can respect that.
For now.
The last of the crowd trickles out of the auditorium, and I’m vaguely aware of the team gathering around us with their sparkly signs, but it doesn’t matter. They should hear what I have to say. Because with all the fanfare around the game, it’s easy to lose sight of what’s important, what really matters.
“I get it. I screwed up. I put the game before you, before my promise, and I broke your trust. I hurt you. Even though it’s the last thing I ever wanted to do, it doesn’t change the fact that I did it. I’m sorry. For all of it.”
She blinks up at me, her big dark eyes covered in a glassy sheen. Fuck. She’s going to cry. It’s probably not the first time. And it’s my fault. The knowledge is like a knife jammed between my ribs.
“You broke your promise and missed the competition for a meeting you didn’t even care about. How exactly do you think I should feel about that?”
“You should be angry. So be angry. Throw up your hands. Rage at me. Tell me I’m a selfish bastard. Just don’t walk away from me. Please.” I pause, my breath coming fast and hard. “We both know you’re not breaking up with me because you don’t care about me. You’re breaking up with me because you care too much. You’re afraid I’ll hurt you again, like your father did. But I’m not him, Kennedy. And if you give me the chance, I’ll prove it. Over and over. Every day. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust.”
“I—” She falters, a tiny crease appearing between her brows. “I don’t know what to say. I want to believe you, but nothing’s changed. If you can’t even put your own dreams before the pressures of the game, how can I expect to compete?”
Is that what she thinks? That this is some kind of game to me? “There’s no competition. I’ll always choose you.”
She throws up her hands and plants them on her hips. “Football is your life. It’s what you were born to do and you’re going to be freaking unstoppable when you get to the NFL. I would never ask you to choose between me and your future. But I won’t play second string. And I can’t stand by and watch you give up on your dreams to make someone else’s come true.”
My breath whistles through my teeth. “I told my father the truth.”
She freezes, eyes wide. “You did?”
I nod. “This morning. A pretty smart woman made me realize that living someone else’s dream is no way to live.”
Her face softens and she takes a step closer. “How’d it go?”
“Better than expected,” I say, raking a hand through my hair. “My dad’s going to back off, let things play out how they will. It was a good talk, actually.”
“And Chicago? What about the optional practice?”
“I asked Coach to pass my regards to the scout and let him know I look forward to speaking with the coaching staff in the spring, when my eligibility expires. Being here for you today was more important than running drills. You were right about my priorities being screwed up, but I think I’ve got it all figured out now.”
I take a step closer, letting my hand skate over her cheek. She leans into my touch, eyes drifting shut. Her skin is flushed, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession, but it’s the softness of her skin that does me in. She pretends to be so tough, so untouchable, but the truth is, underneath it all she’s vulnerable, in need of love and support, just like the rest of us.
“You did all that for me?”
I tilt her chin up to mine. I want her to see the truth of my words in my eyes. “For us. So we can start fresh. No more secrets. No more lies. No more half-truths.”
“For us,” she says slowly as if trying out the words. “I like the sound of that.”
The smile that lights up her face is glorious. I can’t imagine going another day without it in my life. This moment is so damn perfect I don’t care who’s watching or listening. The guys might bust my balls for the rest of the season, but it’ll be worth it just to see that smile on her face. “I love you, Kennedy.”
Kennedy
He loves me? Warmth spreads through my body, and the words plant themselves deep in my chest, taking root immediately. It almost feels too good to
