Page 35 of Before You (Reckless Love #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

JJ

“DUDE, I THINK Bria might agree to go out with me,” Asher says, waggling his eyebrows, and I roll my eyes.

“Pretty sure you said the same thing last week too,” I retort, adjusting the strap of my backpack as my stomach turns. Just a couple more hours. I can do it.

“Has she said anything to you?” he asks, looking like a damn lovesick puppy.

“Marley?” I ask, playing dumb to distract myself from how shitty I’m feeling.

Asher shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “I meant Bria, but if Marley’s said anything about my chances, then by all means feel free to share.”

Sometimes I have a love hate relationship with this campus and how spread out everything is, especially when walking back from the library to the nearest lot is a mile away.

“Not really. Bria and I don’t talk about that stuff, and the one time I asked for you, Marley shut me down citing ‘ girl code, ’” I say, wiping at the sweat dripping down the back of my neck.

“If you really want her to go out with you, maybe don’t hit on Mirabelle in front of her this weekend. ”

Asher laughs next to me, and I catch sight of one of the fountains Marley and I splashed around in, and some of the tightness in my chest eases.

I’m trying to cut back on the pills, but it’s causing my anxiety to skyrocket, forcing me to feel everything they block out.

Tylenol works to an extent for my knee, but I’ve been in the training room every day this week with Billy, and I haven’t been able to run nearly as much.

My insomnia has only gotten worse, and I spend half the night staring at the ceiling or the drawer the pill bottle is in as my mind runs rampant.

But, even with everything, the only time I’ve caved and taken enough to feel normal was during our away game last weekend where we beat the crap out of the University of Northern Washington in Seattle.

Asher nudges my arm, and I glance at him. “What?”

“You’re not listening, are you?” he asks, giving me a look.

I open my mouth, planning to say I was, but we both know I’d be lying. “Yeah, I wasn’t listening.”

“I asked how things are going with your family?” Asher asks, and I push a smile on my face.

“They’re good,” I say, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me because I wouldn’t believe me either. “They’re happy Mirabelle’s engaged because it gives them something else to focus on. Mira’s PI hasn’t found anything, and neither have my parents.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. Did Charlie talk to him about the party?

I look at the ground, noting the cracks in the pavement. “It is what it is,” I say, keeping it vague because talking about Bailey is honestly the last thing I want to do right now. It only makes my cravings for the euphoric feeling of forgetting stronger.

Maybe I’m like cracked pavement, pieces of myself slowly being chipped away. I wonder how long I have until the tiny chips split to create a substantial crack—or maybe they already have.

“How are you doing with it all? Has he . . . you know , called you recently?”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Why are you asking?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and I’m worried about you.”

Tell him , my brain screams at me, but the thought of how differently Asher would look at me after knowing the truth makes me more nauseous.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay,” I say, trying to believe the words coming out of my mouth.

The truth is I’m lying to both of us.

~

I walk into the living room, looking for where I left my sneakers, when I run into Trent camped out on the couch with his laptop.

Turning around to leave would make it more obvious I’m avoiding him.

Even before Marley was in the picture, I wanted nothing to do with him.

Trent is the kind of guy who thinks the zeroes in his bank account give him an excuse to act like a douche, and I’m irritated I’ve tolerated it as long as I have simply because he’s my teammate.

Trent looks up, tipping his chin in acknowledgment. “Hey, Walker. Haven’t seen you around much the past few weeks,” he says, stretching.

“Yeah, been busy,” I say, scratching the back of my neck, glancing around for my shoes.

I stopped by the flower shop yesterday after Asher and I got back from study hall.

I was helping Eddie unload a new shipment, and he kept making comments about how long my hair was getting.

I told him he was being rude, especially when he wasn’t paying me to be there, but the old man wasn’t wrong.

It’s longer than normal since my mom usually cuts it, but I figured it’d be better if she thought I was taking care of myself before they come this weekend, so I didn’t cancel the appointment Eddie scheduled for me this afternoon.

I’m not going to make it on time if I can’t find my shoes.

“I heard your family is coming to the game this weekend,” he starts, and I can feel the tension in my body start to coil.

He’s not seriously going to—

“If you need any extra tickets, you can have mine,” Trent continues, and I blink in surprise, the offer entirely catching me off guard.

“Thanks,” I say, hating the twinge of guilt surfacing in the pit of my stomach.

I have no reason to feel guilty after the way he treated Marley, but a part of me is wondering if I’m the asshole in the situation now for not saying anything to Trent.

“They have season tickets, but I appreciate the offer.”

Trent shrugs, closing his laptop to rub his temples. “No big deal. Just wanted to let you know you could have ’em.”

“I appreciate it,” I say, scanning the room again before spotting my sneakers under the couch. I must have kicked them underneath when I went upstairs earlier. I pull them out, loosening the laces to slip them on.

“You heading out again?”

I glance up, meeting his curious gaze. “Yeah. I thought I’d get a haircut before this weekend.”

Trent cracks a smile, shaking his head. “Man, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were seeing someone with how often you’re gone.”

I force a wry smile to match the laugh coming out of my mouth. “Funny,” I remark, standing up as my knee twinges.

“There’s more to life than football, Walker. Hell, you might even play better than you already are if you just loosen up a little,” Trent says, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” I say noncommittally.

“Whatever you say, but your loss is my gain.”

It’s ironic how accurate his statement is if it were flipped around because Trent’s loss of Marley was one thousand percent my gain.

~

“How are you going to get your homework done if you’re staring at me?” I ask without looking up from the equation I’m calculating.

“It’s boring,” Marley complains.

“I’m not sure it’s supposed to be fun, but it still has to be done,” I tease, setting down my calculator to write down the answer on my paper. I look up at Marley, finding her watching me with a smile to make me feel like I hung the moon.

She spins the ring on her thumb, and she’s too far away from me. I’m not sure I trust myself to keep my hands off Marley if I’m next to her, though.

“What if I just didn’t do it? I could throw it out the window and say my boyfriend’s dog ate it, and my professor would be none the wiser,” she says, her eyes twinkling like stars.

“I don’t have a dog,” I point out, and Marley scoffs.

“I know, JJ.”

I push my homework to the side, standing up from the loveseat to sit by Marley on the couch. Her smile grows, reminding me of a ray of sunshine, and I’m just lucky to have her light shine on me.

“Hi,” she says, turning off her tablet to face me.

“Sweetheart, you still have to do your homework,” I say, and she frowns, her eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t want to.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “I know you don’t want to.”

Marley raises her hand and her fingertips graze across my cheek to the shorter strands of hair on the side of my head.

The barber Eddie sent me to called it “a messy crew cut,” after making sure to leave the hair on the top of my head long enough for it to still wave.

It’s a neater version of what Mom normally does, but Bria nodded her approval when I got here earlier.

I believe her exact words were, You look like a Hemsworth, but hotter , and I felt like a million bucks when Marley’s jaw dropped after she walked out of her room.

It was certainly enough to make me forget about my interaction with Trent earlier.

“I like your haircut,” she says, now running her fingers through the longer strands on top, and a quiet sigh slips from my lips.

“When you told me you were getting one, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to run my fingers through your hair anymore.

” The corners of her mouth tilt up, pulling my attention to them, and it was a bad idea to move by Marley, especially when she’s combing her fingers through my hair.

It’d be so tempting to lean forward and kiss her.

I might have restraint, but I’m not a saint, and the number of times I’ve replayed the moment in her bedroom is embarrassing.

I’ve had two and a half years to fantasize about all the things I want to do with Marley.

I want to know what it feels like to press my lips to her skin, and what it feels like to have hers on me.

Mostly, I just really want to kiss her. “Hey, JJ?” she asks, and I slowly lift my gaze to meet hers. God, she’s so fucking pretty.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re looking at me like you want to kiss me, amore mio 18 . ” And just like the first time I met her, Marley’s whole face breaks into a smile capable of knocking all the air from my lungs.

“That’s my line, sweetheart, but yeah, I do,” I say, leaning forward to kiss her. She’s still smiling when my lips press against hers, and her nails scratch over the back of my head, causing a rumble to rise out of me. Kissing Marley is dangerous because it makes me want to lose control.

I cup her face in my hands, reluctantly pulling away. Marley’s nose bumps against mine as our breath mingles in the space between our mouths. “Why’d you stop?” she whispers, and my throat catches.

“Because I don’t trust myself to if we keep going,” I admit, stroking her cheek with my thumb.

“Are you okay with that?” Marley asks, leaning her head back to look at me, her cerulean orbs watching me.

I’d be more than okay with it, but at the same time, I’m afraid I’ll disappoint her. I saw how surprised Marley was when she learned I’d waited for her. I’m aware anything with Marley will feel like heaven to me, but I want everything to be good for her.

“JJ, we don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to just be in the same room as you,” she says, sincerity ringing in her lyrical voice.

“I love you,” I say, and Marley smiles.

“I love you too.”

I pull Marley to me, kissing her again as she leans in, meeting me halfway when the lock on the door flips. Marley turns away at the same time Asher and Bria walk in the front door, their conversation halting when they see us.

“Sorry, were we interrupting?” Bria asks, not even bothering to hide her grin.

“Dude, you look like a Hemsworth. Nice ,” Asher says, and Bria laughs, smiling at him.

“I said the same thing,” she says, and he visibly melts.

“Get a room.” I groan, mildly irritated we’ve been interrupted.

“In his dreams.” Bria scoffs, but her cheeks grow pink.

Asher smiles a dopey smile in her direction, his eyes never leaving her as she perches on one of the bar stools. “I can promise you are in every single one.”

Marley chuckles, squeezing my hand as she whispers in my ear. “We can pick this up later?” she offers, and at the risk of sounding like Asher, Marley is all of my dreams coming true.

“Deal.”