Page 51

“I’m so sad you guys are leaving today, but it was such a nice surprise. If I hadn’t had that third glass of wine last night, I was going to ask if you wanted to get up with us today to watch the sunrise from the hill.”

“I don’t think I will ever in my life get up to watch the sunrise on purpose. I had to wake up at five in the morning on Friday for a school thing, and it about killed me. Zero stars, do not recommend.”

Ben chuckles.

“My grandpa used to wake up at five every single day with nothing to do but watch reruns of Criminal Minds and eat Cheerios with bananas. I might cry if that happens to me.”

He pulls his wife onto his lap and it’s the cutest thing ever. “That’s what sunsets are for.”

Tisha smiles. “Watching the sunset is like nothing else this world can offer you.”

“Yeah?” I listen raptly, pulling my legs up a little higher on the seat.

“Oh, yes, honey. It’s like a symbol of hope, reminding us that it will rise again the next day, bringing with it new beginnings. Promises of a brighter tomorrow.”

She peeks over her shoulder at her husband, every inch of her softening as she adds, “A sunrise with the person you love is one of those moments, you know? It’s fleeting but reminds us that love doesn’t fade like the day, but it does change, rekindling anew each morning.

The need to watch the sunset is your heart telling you to listen, to stop and savor that moment in time. ”

I don’t realize moisture has built in my eyes until she looks back with a smile and I blink them away. “That’s… I mean, you should write poems or something,” I tease because I don’t know what else to say.

Tisha chuckles, leaning back into her husband. “I’ve been known to write a sonnet or two in my day.”

My lips curve up as I stare at the happy couple, and it makes me wish my parents were home this weekend too.

I sit back, looking around the yard I’ve played in hundreds of times at dozens of barbecues and birthdays.

My eyes travel over to the back side of my home in the distance, and a surge of grief sweeps through me unexpectedly.

I’m really going to miss this.

My eyes grow cloudy again, and a hand pats at my knee. My lips press together so I don’t cry, and I smile at Ben.

The sliding door opens, and we all look up at Brady. He’s showered and changed into an AU sweatsuit, my clothes I wore here in a clean and neat pile in his hands. “Mom washed these for you if you want to be a little more comfortable for the ride back to campus.”

“Yeah, it will be nice to have some underwear for once.”

Brady’s lips tip up to one side and his parents chuckle. He moves to the side so I can slip through the door, but he squeezes my fingers as I pass, and the little act of reassurance makes me smile.

Everything is going to be okay.

We’re going to be okay.

We watched the sunset together.

I tense, shaking the thought from my mind, and rush to get ready.

I’m changed and coming down the stairs in less than five minutes. Brady and his parents are gathered by the door, saying their goodbyes.

They turn to me and I lean in, giving Ben a hug first and then Tisha .

She squeezes me tight, whispering in my ear, “Trust your instincts, honey.”

My brows pull, eyes finding Brady’s over her shoulder, but then she pulls back, smiling sweetly.

“Brady’s got last night’s leftovers packed away in a little ice chest in the truck already, and I made some muffins this morning.

They’re in the bag with some more snacks for the road—candy, cookies, chips. ”

I squeeze her hand. “Thank you and thank you guys for such an amazing weekend. I didn’t realize how much I missed home and home cooking.”

“Hey, you know you don’t have to go to every football game. You can always come home on the weekends and watch it on TV with the rest of us old people.”

“I might take you up on that.”

“What? No!” Brady gapes, and I look at him. “You have to come to my games.”

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?” I tease, tipping my head to the side.

His eyes narrow in challenge, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Don’t worry, Big Guy.” I walk over, patting his chest. “I wouldn’t miss watching you play for a lifetime supply of Cookie Crumble coffees, let alone to hang out with old people on game days.”

“Hey.” Ben feigns offense, and this time, I give him a wink.

With a final wave, I leave Brady to his goodbyes and head out to the truck, but he’s right on my tail, our doors closing in unison.

He turns the music on, and I take that as a sign he doesn’t feel like talking yet, so I pull my phone out and play around a little.

When I look up again, we’re pulling into the drive-through of Bebe’s Brews.

Our eyes meet, neither of us saying a word, and finally he sighs, reaching over and unlocking my seat belt.

He grips me by my thigh and pulls, my ass sliding across the seat until I’m in the middle.

He buckles me in beside him. When it’s our turn he orders for us both, and we’re back on the road within ten minutes, warm breakfast burritos and coffees in hand.

I peel the wrapper back on his and pass it to him, following suit with my own. Before I take a bite, I look his way, burrito in one hand and salsa cup in the other. “You sure you don’t want to feed me mine?”

Brady scoffs, sliding a grin my way. “Eat, brat.”

Smiling to myself, I do just that.

The first few hours go by pretty quickly, and then the afternoon seems to drag. We stop twice so baby-bladder Brady can piss and a third time for gas.

It’s dark by the time we’re pulling into the parking lot of my dorm, a little rainstorm seeming to be rolling in with us. It’s kind of ominous considering Brady had gone quiet about a half hour ago.

As he swings around the curved drive, his eyes are darting all around.

“Looking for someone?” I tease.

“Huh?” His head snaps my way. “No.”

I feel a frown threatening but I let it go, my mouth stretching into a yawn as I unbuckle and start pulling on my shoes.

“You want to come up?”

He glances out the front window, shaking his head slightly. “No, I don’t think I should.”

“Afraid I might get a little needy again?”

His eyes snap my way, but I falter when he doesn’t smile.

“Look, Brady,” I begin. We avoided this topic the whole drive, but I guess it has to be discussed now. “Don’t make this weird, all right? It’s fine if you regret letting it get that far.”

A huffed laugh leaves him, and he shakes his head. “It’s not that.”

“Well, it’s something.”

He drops his head sideways against the glass, a long exhale leaving him, but when he looks my way, his expression doesn’t match the heaviness in his body language. He’s got his megawatt Brady grin in place, and I kind of want to smack it off him. “I’ve had a lot of fun, Fake Girlfriend.”

A sinking sensation weighs down my stomach at his words because I know there are more coming, and I don’t think I want to hear them.

“I think it’s time to put you back on the market.”

Yeah, he totally freaked out this morning.

It takes me a moment, but I nod. “Okay,” I say, agreeing despite the disappointment in my gut. I’m not really sure what to do with it, but this is something only he can work out.

“Okay?”

Why is he fighting a frown when he’s the one who suggested it?

“If that’s what you want, then yeah. Okay.”

“It’s just that there’s a man out there who wants to be the real deal.”

A scowl starts before I realize what he means because at first all I hear is I don’t want to be the real deal .

That’s not it, though. He’s talking about Alister.

“Okay.” I force the word out again, my smile as real as his is as I quickly slide over and climb out. I snag the bag of goods from the floorboard. “I’m keeping these. You can have the leftover mac.”

Brady watches, a small crease between his brows.

I force my lips higher. “See you in class tomorrow.”

I turn around and walk away, closing my eyes as the weight in my stomach threatens to knock me over and wondering at what point exactly I stopped seeing Brady as my friend but rather something more.

Way to go, girl. Another guy you can’t keep.

First Trey, then Alister, and now Brady.

How does it go in baseball—three strikes and you’re out?

My feet stop just inside the entrance, Alister’s words from before I took off with Brady for the weekend coming back to me.

He didn’t punch me when I said I was going to come to you , he had said .

Alister talked to Brady the same day he told me he loved me. The same day that Brady suddenly needed to escape campus and fully intended on doing so alone until I forced my way into his little trip.

He was running away, not wanting to be here when Alister and I did talk, unaware we already had.

We’d talked before Brady kissed me when no one was watching.

We’d talked before I climbed onto his lap and all but demanded he take what I wanted to give.

Realization hits me and I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry.

Brady didn’t want to end this thing between us. He thought I would once I heard what his teammate had to say.

He’s wrong.