Page 65

Only with you,I nearly say it, but I don’t. “Maybe.” I shrug, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch her cheek when she blushes.

She lowers her face, glancing at the sidewalk as we walk. “The championship game is less than a week away now. That’s a big deal.”

I nod, my stomach tightening at the reminder. “We fly out tomorrow morning,” I confirm. “Coach wants the team to acclimate and settle in before the game.”

“Nervous?” she asks, glancing up at me once more.

I consider lying, putting on the cocky quarterback persona everyone expects, but this is Avery. She’s always seen through my bullshit.

“Terrified,” I admit, surprising myself with brutal honesty. “This is everything I’ve worked for since I was a kid throwing footballs in my backyard. One game that could determine my entire future.”

“You’re going to do amazing.” She says it with such conviction that for a moment, I almost believe her. Almost.

“How can you be so sure?” I ask, my voice lower than I intended. “I’ve been distracted. Sloppy. Hell, I brought back a win by the skin of my teeth our last game, and you haven’t even seen me play in years.”

Avery’s steps slow slightly, until she comes to a stop. Turning to me, she glances into my eyes, fidgeting with the end of her scarf and twisting the tassels between her fingers. “I’ve watched every game,” she admits. “Every. Single. Game. No matter what I was doing or who I was with. Even when I told myself I had to let you go.” Her voice trembles just enough to crack something open inside my chest. “You were never just a game to me, Damon. You werethegame. The only thing that ever really mattered, even after I let you go.”

The confession hits me like a tackle I didn’t see coming, knocking the air from my lungs. Even after her confession Sunday night, I’m not sure I fully understood until this moment. All this time, I thought I was the only one holding onto the past, but I wasn’t.

“Every game?” I repeat, unable to keep the wonder from my voice.

She nods, and the vulnerability written across her face grasps at my heart. “I couldn’t stop caring just because we weren’t together anymore.”

“Will you come and watch me play?” I blurt. Then, squeezing my eyes closed, I shake my head, realizing what I’m asking of her. “Sorry, I know that’s a lot to ask,” I say, blinking my eyes back open to stare down into her beautiful face. “You have work and school and it’s halfway across the country, but?”

“If you want me there, I’ll be there.” She reaches out, giving my hand a little squeeze.

“Really?” I ask. When she nods, I swallow, relief swelling inside of me at the thought of her being there, in the flesh, watching me play like she used to?my own personal lucky charm. “The girls are going?Charlotte, Brynn, Liz, and Samantha. They’re flying out the night before. I heard the guys talking. I’m sure you could join them.”

“Definitely.” She flashes me a brilliant smile, then starts walking again, and I follow beside her, walking in silence. This time when I feel the urge to grab her hand, I do so, intertwining her fingers with mine.

A comfortable tension stretches between us, the kind that’s filled with unspoken words and possibilities as we make our way off campus and onto Main Street. Cars zip past on the street and students amble on the sidewalk, headed to nearby restaurants, little boutiques, the campus bookstore, and Java the Hutt.

“What time are you done with practice today?” Avery asks, breaking the quiet.

“Five. Coach wants us fresh for tomorrow’s flight, so it’s just walk-throughs and some light conditioning.”

“So, this is the last time I’ll see you?” she asks, pausing outside of the glass doors to the coffee shop.

“Unless you want to stop by with those notes you promised,” I say, nudging her in the side and cursing myself even as I say it. Ishould be going over plays, meditating, hydrating, and focusing on my chi and shit. Not worrying about girls.

But this isn’t just any girl.

This is Avery.My Avery.

“I’d love to,” she says, and the way her cheeks flush a candy apple red makes me forget why having her over is a bad idea. “I get off work at six, so I’ll swing by after. Your number is still the same?”

I nod. I never changed it. If I’m being honest, I’d harbored the hope for a long time she’d reach out. “Is yours? The same, I mean?”

She rolls her eyes and pulls her phone from her pocket, swiping the screen and navigating to her contacts. She turns the phone toward me so I can see the entry at the top of her favorites:QB.

“You’re still my number one.”

Warmth unfurls inside my chest at the same time her phone buzzes with a text, but before she can turn it around to check it, I catch a glimpse of the name flashing across the screen and want to puke.

Travis.

The sight of his name carves a hollow space in my chest, but before I have time to dwell on it, Avery quickly tucks her phone out of sight.