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I love you, too.
He had no business saying them. Wouldn’t give her false hope.
“You wanted to talk about something else.” He set his glass on the small, shabby chic table between them. A salvaged piece he’d held onto from his college days because it was the first piece of furniture his mother had ever refinished. “So tell me, what’s next in your career?”
Bree narrowed her gaze at him. It was another loaded topic. He’d known that before he asked her.
She’d been playing volleyball professionally for well over a decade. With each passing year and each new injury, speculation about the end of her career swirled. Something it seemed Bex was experiencing as she fought to come back from her latest injury.
Still, he really wanted to know. Since they both seemed prone to deep introspection and spontaneous confession tonight, it seemed the perfect time to inquire.
“I hope to play a few more years. So now’s the time for me to begin the transition from professional volleyball player to whatever comes next.”
“And what is that?” Wes wasn’t satisfied with her non-answer. “Will the volleyball camps be your full-time pursuit once you’ve retired?”
“That’s what Bex wants.”
“But what does Brianna want?” His voice softened.
“I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “Volleyball has been my entire life since I was in middle school. I’ve sacrificed so much to be the best at what I do. I’m not completely sure where I go from there. Professionally speaking.”
They were both silent for a moment, then he asked, “In your heart of hearts, what is it you’d like to be doing, more than anything, outside of playing volleyball?”
“I don’t know…”
“I think you do.” He swapped his untouched wineglass with her empty one, then sat back in his chair and surveyed her. “Maybe you’re reluctant to share it with me, but—”
“What I’m doing now,” she said quickly, picking up her wineglass and taking a sip. “Not this, obviously.” She held up the wineglass and they both laughed. A little of the tension between them eased. “I mean being a spokesperson for important causes. Helping people. Making a difference.” A genuine smile lifted her cheeks and lit her eyes. “Going to visit with sick children at hospitals. Talking to high-risk children at inner-city schools and at boys’ and girls’ clubs. Helping them see that they matter. That no matter how big their dreams are, they’re attainable. They just need to believe in themselves and be willing to work for it. But a good support system helps. And I’d like to be that for those kids.”
Bree caught Wes staring at her and her cheeks flushed. She took another sip of her wine as she gazed out of the window. “I sound like a corny do-gooder, right?”
“Look at me, Bree.” He shifted forward in his seat as her gaze met his. “Never apologize for who you are. Every character trait, every physical scar…they all make you the remarkable warrior goddess you are. So don’t apologize for any of it. Got it?”
She was silent for a moment, then nodded.
“Good.” He smiled and her shoulders relaxed. “If that’s what you really want to do, do it. Kids like us, who came from nothing, they desperately need someone to believe in them. To support their dreams and give them opportunities they wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
Bree took another sip of her wine. “The trouble is, if I don’t keep playing, in some capacity, I’m no longer relevant, and I won’t get opportunities like this.”
“Make your own. Start your own organization.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it? It’s not like you’d have to do everything yourself. A charity is like any other business. Hire the best people to run it for you.”
Bree seemed unconvinced.
“Seems you’ve given this some thought, but something about the idea scares you. What is it?”
“It seems overwhelming, to say the least. Besides, it’s such an important task. I can’t let them down. What if I fail?”
“What if you succeed? Think of how many lives you could change?”
