Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Fuck yes!” Colton cheers, as Nash scrambles to his feet. “Basket and the foul. He has the chance for a three-point play,” he tells Sadie and me. “We worked hard on his free throws.”
They all line up in place, Nash standing behind the free throw line. The ref tosses him the ball, and Nash dribbles it a couple of times, looks up at the basket, takes a noticeably deep breath, and shoots. The ball swooshes through the net cleanly, both Colton and I shoving to our feet to cheer as he just gave us a two-point lead with this play.
Our gazes catch, Colton’s eyes twinkling, giving me my favorite mischievous smile, and I swear, my heart flips over in my chest…maybe calls out his name. I can’t help smiling back at him as we sit down again.
It’s a close game, the teams evenly matched, but when the final buzzer sounds, we’ve won by three points and the crowd goes wild. Sadie hugs me, cheering and dancing for Nash, then surprises me by turning around and hugging Colton too. He looks up at me, teeth showing when he gives the world’s biggest grin, like this moment means something to him too—like we all do…like he belongs.
Don’t push too far too fast. Don’t chase him away.
“Look at him,” I say, pointing to Nash, watching where he and his teammates celebrate, and he’s right there in the middle of it. A part of it.
We head down, Colton taking Sadie’s hand when she almost stumbles on the lip of one of the bleachers and making my heart go wild again.
Nash meets us on the floor, sweaty and looking like he’s the happiest kid in the world.
“Good game,” I tell him. “You’re a really great player.”
He nods. “Um, thanks. Thank you for letting me play. And for coming.” Nash looks away. I hate that he’s still unsure, that he still doesn’t trust me, but things are getting better. That’s what I have to remind myself. “I gotta go to the locker room with my team and stuff, but are you gonna come over tonight and celebrate with us?” he asks Colton.
Colton shoots me a look, and I nod.
“Hell yeah,” Colton says. “We’ll wait for you.”
“What’d ya think?” he asks Sadie, pulling her in for a hug.
“Ew. You’re sweaty.”
Nash laughs. “I’m awesome, right?”
“The best.” She grins.
“Obviously,” he teases, then says, “See you guys in a bit.”
We hang out, talking about the game and waiting for Nash. He comes out about thirty minutes later with the same guys I’ve seen him with before. They say goodbye, and then Nash jogs over to us.
I’ve never heard him talk so much, never had him string together as many words as he does on the drive home, clearly still buzzing from the game. The car is loud, full of voices and excitement in this way I used to watch on TV shows as a kid—when the whole family was together, everyone talking at once, and it was so foreign to me. I never had that, never even seen it in real life, but I’m living it now.
When we get home, Nash and Sadie sit at the kitchen counter, doing homework and chatting with us while Colton and I make nachos. We had dinner before the game, but Nash is already starving again, and I must admit, I could eat too.
“I’m fucking beat—I mean, beat,” Nash says. “I’m going to bed early.”
I stare for a moment, speechless because…did he just correct his language? I don’t make a big deal out of it, afraid if I do, he won’t try again, and say, “You had a long day.”
“Night, James,” he says to me. “Night, Colton,” he adds, and they fist-bump.
“I’m gonna go to bed too,” Sadie says, hugging me and waving to Colton before they both disappear down the hallway, leaving us alone.
“They should have their own rooms,” I say.
“Yes.” He tugs me closer, and I go easily, letting Colton pull me into his arms, knowing we’re out of sight and I’ll hear the kids if they come out of their room. “Why don’t you want to move to the house with them? There’s tons of space.”
I sigh, then pull away and head over to sit on the couch. Colton comes with me, sitting close, and for the first time, I allow myself to cuddle with him here. He wraps an arm around me, dancing his fingers through my hair and waiting for me to speak. “That makes it feel real,” I admit.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know…just…when you picture a family, that’s what it is—two parents, kids, a house, maybe a basketball hoop in the driveway and barbecues in the backyard. It’s the dream, what a lot of people strive for, and I guess I don’t know if I’m worthy of that.”