Page 48

DAMON

A month ago, I would’ve thought it was impossible to be this happy.

A month ago, I could’ve only dreamed I’d win the National Championship.

A month ago, I thought love and happy endings didn’t exist.

But in the span of just a couple short weeks, all of that has changed. I’ve changed. My sharp edges have softened. The bitterness I’ve been living with for more than two years is gone?vanished.

I’m on top of the world when I wake and head toward the hotel restaurant for breakfast, stopping short in the lobby when I find her already waiting for me.

“Avery.” I pull her in, wrapping my arms around her in a giant bear hug. “God, I missed you.”

She chuckles into my chest before she pulls away. “I saw you just yesterday.”

“For, like, two seconds. And now I have so much to tell you,” I say when she reaches for my hands, and guides me to a nearby sofa. We sink down, shoulder to shoulder, and thighs touching with that familiar electric energy coursing between us.

“I have something to tell you, too. But you go first,” she says, giving my fingers a squeeze.

“The Patriots reached out to Coach. They were asking him if I thought about putting in for the draft early.”

Her eyes widen, the golden flecks glowing with the news. “That’s . . . amazing.”

I nod. “If that wasn’t crazy enough, I went back to my room and put on ESPN, and they were talking about it too, like my spot in the NFL is a given.”

“That’s amazing, Damon. Congratulations. You’ve earned it, and so much more.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. And for the first time since I spotted her in the lobby, I notice something’s off.

My stomach clenches as I take her in, hoping it’s my imagination as I tip her chin so our eyes meet. “Hey,” I say, my voice soft. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head.

“Avery.”

“ Damon.” She grins, and this time, the corners of her eyes crinkle but only slightly.

“I know you. Spill. Is it me?” I ask, thinking about the night we spent together. “Are we moving too fast? Is it something I did?”

“No,” she’s quick to answer. “No, of course not.”

“But . . .?”

My heart thumps wildly in my chest when she hesitates. I hold my breath, staring at her as she fights with whatever she wants to say.

“What would happen if the truth about my father and the collapse came out and it effected your future with the NFL?”

I breathe a sigh of relief. That’s what this is about?

“Ave, that’s insane. Even if it did come out, it wouldn’t affect me in the slightest.”

“But if they know we’re dating . . .” She trails off, worrying her lip with her teeth.

I reach out, tugging at her lower lip, hating the fact that she’s worrying at my expense.

“It was your father’s company that caused it, not you. I mean, yeah, your name would probably get dragged into it to an extent, but not enough that it would have any bearing on my career.”

“But what if it did? What if there’s something we’re missing? Some detail we don’t know that would change things?”

“Like what?” I ask, trying to understand where this is coming from.

An emotion flickers through her hazel eyes that I can’t read, turning them a hazy shade of amber.

I reach up to her face, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “Honestly, if the investigation turned up nothing, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Her throat bobs, and I get the sense this isn’t the only thing bothering her.

“Is this about my dad?” I ask.

Her eyes widen, pupils swallowing the brown of her irises, but when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out.

“Does this have something to do with your parents? Did something else happen?” I ask, because from my experience, where there’s fire, there’s Reginald Astor.

When she doesn’t answer right away, I huff out a laugh. “They found out you’re here and called you, didn’t they? That’s what this is about?”

Her throat bobs, her gaze wary as she says, “Maybe they did call, but it doesn’t have anything to do with?”

“Sure, it doesn’t,” I cut her off, a wave of anger and fear rising inside of me. “They found out we’re together again, and now they’re putting pressure on you to break it off.”

“Even if that’s true, I won’t let them scare me again. This isn’t about my parents.”

“Then what the hell is it about, Avery,” I snap, losing my cool as I spread my arms wide. “Because just hours ago, everything was fine.”

“It’s about your father,” she blurts.

“What about him? Who cares about the stupid contract he signed?” I shake my head. My heart is in my throat, and I’m scared to death it’s happening again. She’s pulling away from me. Retreating. And losing her a second time will be so much worse.

“The contract was a lie.”

“Imagine that. Your parents lied.” I scoff.

Her eyes harden on mine. “My parents weren’t just worried your father knew the truth. He was blackmailing them.”

I bark out a laugh, sure she’s joking. Any second, she’ll snicker and deliver the punchline.

When she doesn’t say anything else, I shake my head. “He wouldn’t do that. My father has always made his money by the sweat of his brow. He’s not the type to?”

“Not for money, but because he doesn’t want us together. He threatened to take what he knows to the media.”

I stare at her for a moment before I rise to my feet, studying her in the silence while my emotions churn inside of me. “That’s insane. He has zero reason to do that.”

“But what if he did?”

“Why are you doing this?” I narrow my eyes at her, frustration bubbling inside my chest. “Are you trying to create problems between us that don’t exist?”

She flinches like I’ve slapped her. “No. I’m just trying to be honest with you.”

“By making up wild accusations about my father?” I run a hand through my hair. “This is coming out of nowhere. My dad can be overbearing and hyper focused on my career, sure, but blackmail?”

Ridiculous.

Then it dawns on me. This isn’t about my dad at all. She’s spooked and creating obstacles because things are getting serious between us. Or maybe she’s having second thoughts. Maybe she’s scared of losing everything and has decided I’m not worth the risk.

And then another thought hits me.

Or maybe her parents weren’t really the reason she called it off, after all. Maybe that was just some story she made up in the hopes I might forgive her.

My heart misses a beat as I soften my tone. “Look. I get it. We’re moving too fast, and with all the talk about the possibility of entering the draft early, there’s some uncertainty. If you’re feeling overwhelmed—”

“That’s not what this is,” she snaps, color rising in her cheeks. “Why won’t you even consider what I’m saying?”

“Because it makes no sense!” I throw my hands up. “My dad has his faults, but he wouldn’t blackmail anyone. He’s not that guy. Unlike your father, mine actually has a moral compass.”

A bitter laugh spills from her lips as she looks at me through watery eyes. “Right. And what about me? You just think I’m lying for the hell of it?”

I stare at her, heart thumping wildly as fear wraps around my throat, and I say, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Fuck.

Why did I say that?

Why did I have to go there?

Because I was pissed. Pissed that she would even insinuate my father had anything to do with this whole mess when he only ever supported me.

Hell, he called me every fucking day after she broke my heart to make sure I was okay.

He knew more than anyone what it felt to fall under the crushing weight of heartache.

And, okay, if I’m being honest, I’m more than a little scared history is repeating itself. That she’s pulling away again and creating problems when there are none.

I stare down at my breakfast—the one I was supposed to share with her—and recall the way she flinched after I called her a liar.

How my words caused the moisture in her eyes to spill over.

Worse yet, I was so blinded by my own irritation and fear that I let her leave, instead of smoothing things over.

To say we left things on bad terms is an understatement, and because the team couldn’t get flights out until tomorrow morning, I won’t see her until I’m back in Ann Arbor.

“Are you gonna eat those?”

I lift my gaze from my plate to find Chris staring down at the heap of hash browns on my plate. I stare at him for a second, wondering how he can eat right now before I realize he wasn’t the one who just had a fight with his girl, then sent her on her way. That was me , all me.

I wordlessly slide my plate toward him, then stare into my coffee cup with a frown.

“All you do is eat,” Jace grumbles. “You’re like a fucking garbage disposal.”

“Hey.” Chris pats his stomach. “I’m a growing boy.”

Jace rolls his eyes while the others snicker.

“Besides, we had a late night,” he says as he shovels potatoes in his mouth. “My girlfriend kept me up . Late .” He wags his eyebrows while the word girlfriend sits in the pit of my stomach like rotten fruit.

Is Avery my girlfriend?

Fuck if I know. Even though I told that reporter she was, we never really got around to the relationship status talk before we had our first fight. And already, she’s pulling away from me.

“What’s gotten into you?” Brandon lifts his chin in my direction, eyeing me.

I duck my head and take a sip of my coffee, saying nothing.

“It’s her again, isn’t it?” Brandon groans.

Sighing, I rake a hand through my hair, knowing they’ll just push until I spill. “We had a fight this morning before she left. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I say, hoping it’s true.

We can’t be over before we got started.

Jace snorts. “It’s because you spent the night with your father, isn’t it?”

I shake my head. “She’s not like that. She didn’t care that he and I went out for drinks.”

Did she?

“Well, you missed out. Postgame victory sex is the best.”

“Some of us wouldn’t know,” Brandon says, sounding more pissed than he has a right to be.

Across from me, West snorts as he quietly sips his coffee.

“Did you do something to piss her off, then?” Jace asks.

“No. It wasn’t that kind of fight,” I say, shifting in my seat. “It was just stupid. A misunderstanding, and then I got mad and said something insensitive.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, even though the truth is it’s eating me alive.

“Well, then I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Chris chimes in as he finally puts his fork down. “And if she’s still pissed when we get back, grovel.”

Jace snaps his fingers and points at him. “Yes. If all else fails, groveling is always the answer.”

“Hell, even if you did nothing wrong,” Chris says grinning, “groveling is the answer.”