Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“You’re incredible,” I whisper into her neck, my nose trailing along her shoulder. I kiss her there. Slowly. Three times.
“I’m grateful that you’re mine,” I whisper.
She turns just enough to glance back at me, her lashes still heavy, her cheeks flushed and glowing. I meet her eyes and something just…hits.
Clarity, of the sharpest kind.
Like something that’s always been there, finally being heard.
“I love you, Paige.” The words fall out low and jagged, like they’ve been waiting for the right moment to break free, and this is it.
I feel her breath hitch, feel her fingers tighten around mine.
She opens her mouth, but I silence her with a kiss to her lips, then behind her ear as I tug her closer again.
She’s still trembling—or maybe I am, I can’t say for sure, but it doesn’t matter because I said it. Words I wasn’t sure I knew the meaning of.
Words my mother made me question the possibility of.
Words that I have never ever meant more…
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Chase
The locker room is charged, every member of the team fired up for today’s rivalry game against Oregon.
Music blares all around, the bass rattling the bench beneath me as I tape my wrist, only adding to the booming excitement. Laughter and chaos bounce off the walls, and I soak it all in with a fucking smile.
Today, I’m locked in. Ready.
Determined.
“Let’s go, baby!” Brady slaps a helmet against the locker beside mine, grinning like a madman. He starts dancing, shimmying his hips and bumping up on me, snaking an arm around Mason’s neck, and yanking him in when he tries to slip by.
The three of us laugh, popping up and jumping with the beat of the song, singing out the chorus, and the rest of the locker room joins in, turning the place into a mini fucking concert.
It’s electric and the blood in my veins pumps a little faster.
We’ve already warmed up, gone over the game plan for today more times than I can count, run it into the ground this week, and it’s sharp. We’re sharp.
And me? I’ve never been more ready.
That’s the thought that stays with me as we hit the tunnel, running out in a haze of smoke and flashing lights, emerging on the other side of the giant shark’s mouth.
The crowd goes insane, fists pounding, feet stomping, every seat in the house taken for this, and I smirk at the thought.
Brady bends at the knees, roaring into the air as we take the sidelines, waiting to get things going.
I roll my shoulders, crack my neck, and then Mason is in front of me, hands slapping on my pads.
“You feelin’ it?” he shouts.
“More than ever.” My mouth quirks. “You?”
He chuckles, shaking his head with a grin. “You’re gonna light it up out there, man. I can feel it.”
So can I.
My fingers flex at my side, the hairs on my neck tingling, and I spin around.
I find her instantly, moving quickly down the stairs that lead to the railing.
Helmet in my hands, I run over, hopping up just as she takes the last step.
She reaches me, breathing a little quickly and cheeks flushed. Beautiful.
Mine.
Her forehead presses to mine, and she closes her eyes a moment, then those baby blues open, locking with my gaze. “You got this, Trouble,” she whispers, her warm hands pressing to my cheeks, my number painted across hers, and everything around us blurs. “I’m so proud of you.”
My throat thickens, but I smile. “Thank you, baby.” I kiss her quickly, and it’s like a supercharge straight into my damn chest.
“It’s showtime.” She grins.
“You bet your ass it is.”
Paige laughs lightly, and I hop down, my eyes snapping past her.
There. Section One, first row. My dad points at me, holding Deaton on his hip, my friends all around him. I raise my hand in a short wave and his face breaks out in a grin, and he lifts Deaton’s hand to wave back.
An unexpected, sudden warmth fills my chest.
One day, maybe it’ll be my little guy in the stands watching me play from my dad’s lap.
My lips twitch and I nod, winking at Paige before jogging back to the sidelines, my team ready and waiting.
Mase is on the field as captain. The coin is flipped and Oregon is set to kick off.
I chuckle to myself, glancing at my coach at the exact moment he turns toward me.
He tips his head, and I tip mine back.
He chose not to defer the ball to the second half for me.
Because now our offense is hitting the field first. I am hitting the field first, and this game? The game plan we worked out all week at practice?
It was built around me. For me.
Today, I’m the weapon.
I’m not just going to show these scouts what they came to see.
I’m going to blow their fucking minds.
And I do. Down after down. Minute after minute.