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“It would be worth it. You’ve filled all the quiet and lonely parts of my life, Maven.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No.” He pauses and dips his head. Pink spreads across his cheeks, and I reach for his hand. Our fingers thread together and I squeeze once, a gentle assurance that I’m here. That I’llalwaysbe here. “It’s the best thing.”
It might be night, but the edges of his smile are as bright as the sun.
Something stirs inside me. It’s new, this feeling. A sensation I can’t describe but can only associate with other things I’ve come to adore—every good day I’ve had with him. My necklace hanging from his neck. Burnt toast and drives home from the stadium. Stolen glances under streetlights and small talk.
It hits me with the force of a wrecking ball, and it’s like the universe narrows down to a single entity: him.
“I might not be able to have you how I want,” I say softly, and his grip on my hand tightens. “But I’m so lucky to have you.”
“Of all the sports teams in the city, you stumbled into mine.” Dallas chuckles, a wisp of a laugh that sounds starkly beautiful under the inky night sky. “I’m not one to believe in divine intervention, but someone up there saw that I was struggling, and they sent me the best gift I could ever ask for. You.”
“We have got to stop having these emotional conversations. Why can’t we talk about the weather like normal people instead of spilling our guts like lunatics?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” His arm drapes over my shoulder, and he gives me a sideways hug. “Watching you turn into a blubbery fucking mess is one of my favorite things.”
“Asshole,” I grumble under my breath, and I swat at his chest. “Speaking of fucking messes, you’re going to be a nightmare on your flight. Shawn is going to kill you when he sees the dark circles under your eyes.”
“Ah, well. It’s worth it. Life is short—you have to tell people how you feel about them.”
I swallow. “You’ve filled the sad parts of my life, Dallas. You’ve taught me how to be happy again.”
“You would’ve gotten there on your own, Mae.”
“Maybe. But I’ve gotten there a lot quicker because of you.”
“That’s what friends are for. They help pick you up when you’re down and remind you why you started in the first place.”
“Friends,” I repeat. “Right.”
We stand there, side by side, and as the night stretches longer, I’ve never hated a word more.
TWENTY-NINE
MAVEN
My phone ringsjust as I’m slipping into bed on Friday night. Dallas’s name comes across my screen as a FaceTime call, and I answer right away.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Mae,” he says.
“How was practice?”
He flicks on the lamp in his hotel room, and his face comes into view. There’s dirt on his forehead, and even with the dark circles under his eyes, he’s smiling.
“It sucked majorly. Shawn made us do laps until our legs gave out. Less than forty-eight hours until kickoff, and we’re out there clocking four miles.”
“That man really doesn’t care how tired you are, does he?”
“He doesn’t give a fuck.” Dallas collapses into the chair by the window. He rests his head against the glass and takes a deep breath. “Everything’s better now, though. I’m talking to you. How are my girls?”
“I’m good, but June is fast asleep.”
“Dammit. I thought I’d be back in time to say goodnight to her.” He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. Disappointmentis evident in the droop of his mouth, and I feel horrible for telling him that news. “Guess not.”
