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Liza hasn’t spoken much since our moment in the main room, but I don’t miss the way her eyes scan the bonfire to find mine more often than not. Ryan and I dropped off the chairs and snuck away to take care of team obligations. Rubbing elbows with alumni and donors is at the top of Coach’s priority list to make the dean happy.

“You’re having quite the year, kid.” An older man, who must be in his late sixties, extends his hand to shake mine.

“Thank you, sir.” I nod and stick my hands back in my pockets, not sure how to keep up the small talk.

His eyes level with mine, and a serious look passes across his face. “Got any interest?”

“From scouts?” He nods, encouraging me to proceed. “Not yet, but hopefully next year my name will gain traction.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card and pen. Jotting down a name and number, he slides the card into the palm of my hand. “That’s my brother’s number. Call him when you’re ready to get serious about your career.”

My eyebrows furrow as I read the scribbled name and number on the worn card. “What does he do?”

“He’s an agent. A big one at that. He’ll score you a sizable rookie contract.”

“Are you talking about the NFL?” My insecurities tumble out of my mouth. My biggest fear was always not being good enoughto make it to the next level. The NFL has always been my goal, but getting there is another story.

“Hartley,” he scolds. “You’re a sophomore and you’ve got NFL material written all over you. Those routes you’re running this year? Only a handful of guys in the nation can do what you do. Don’t second guess that.”

Swallowing down my choked up emotion, I say, “Thanks for this. I’ll give him a call.”

He nods and turns around to join the rest of his alumni friends at the huge burning fire.

“Who was that?” Ryan asks as he shuffles next to me. His jaw is set tight as he cracks his neck on both sides.

“One of the football alums. He gave me this.” I pull the card out of my pocket to show Ryan. “It’s the contact information for an NFL agent.”

“Nice.” He pats my back. “You should call him.”

“You think?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I want to play in the NFL, but don’t know if I’m cut out for—” I stop talking when he turns to walk away.

He glances over his shoulder. “You are. Come on. The girls are probably wondering where we’ve been.”

I jog to catch up with him, and before long, we spot Violet and Liza lounging in camping chairs as close as they can get to the roaring fire sparking embers. They’re both laughing and shoving gooey s'mores into their mouths. I decide to sneak up behind Liza to catch her off guard.

Wrapping my hands across her shoulders, she doesn’t even flinch before looking back at me with those big eyes full of hope and promise. “Goldie.”

“Hotshot.”

“Did you miss me?”

“You were only gone for a half an hour.” Her lips form into a smirk as she tries to hide the smile creeping across her face. “I hardly realized you were gone.”

I unfold the extra chairs Ryan and I brought to cozy up next to her. “Keep telling yourself that.”

She shakes her head as a shiver racks through her body. “I will.”

“You’re cold.”

“No, I’m okay.”

“That wasn’t a question, babe.” I unroll a blanket from the bag we packed and drape it over her.

She nuzzles against the warm stitches of the fabric and tucks her icy fingers underneath. Her eyes are locked into the fire as sparks ignite and pop close enough to reach us.