He grinned. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because.” I sighed. “It made me sound like a weirdo, and I, Juliette Serrant, have a reputation to uphold. Also, I wanted toshowyou the list, not tell you about it—and I haven’t had the chance because it’s still in my apartment in Vegas.”
“Ahh. Gotcha.” A crease formed between his brows. “But how did I own the list if I was your second dream?”
“Because modeling caused me to give up other smaller dreams. And I let it. But you?” I rubbed his earlobe between my fingers. “I wouldn’t let anything touch you.Youwere non-negotiable.”
His gaze burned into me. “So you’re saying that even though I was listed last, I was the grand prize?”
I beamed. “Exactly.”
He fell sideways onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan like he didn’t know what to do with that. “Jules, I… I’ve never been anyone’s grand prize.”
“Wrong.” I crawled over, straddled his waist, and shimmied his shirt up and over his head. “I mean, look at this.” I laughed, my fingers trailing over his pecs, then slowly down his phenomenal abs. He shuddered at my touch. “Nothing but grand prize material right here.”
His hands cupped the backs of my elbows, drawing me closer.
“You’ve always been the grand prize, Griffin.” I stared down at him, my hair making a curtain around us. “You just didn’t know it.”
I could see he finally believed it. But he didn’t answer with words. He pulled me down on top of him, giving me a memory that would outlast that moment.
And it was a good thing it did.
Because, full circle, he was about to become nothing more than a dream on my list, once again.
Chapter Thirty-Two
JULIETTE
Icould not be any dumber if I tried.
Obviously, I didn’t grow up with a dad shouting at refs on TV every Sunday after church, so I knew next to nothing about football. But that wasn’t why I was dumb. I was dumb because I’d thought I could come to this game and not end up on TV. I was dumb because I’d thought it was like a high school game and we’d be in the stands, lost in a sea of faces. Spoiler: we weren’t.
Liam’s immediate family was up in a box somewhere. James stayed home with Willow—said he didn’t want to be away from her for that long. But the rest of us were in a ground-level suite—Theo, Bowen, Maggie, Cash, Charlie, Sophie, Griffin, and me—perched on stools behind Liam’s team at the fifty-yard line. Because this wasn’t high school. This was the N actual F actual L. And I was here with one of the most famous families in America, watching Raleigh’s golden boy.
Even if Liam wasn’t getting the “snaps he deserved,” the fans were wrapped around his little finger. Cameras keptpanning our way like we were part of the show. With Fourth and Goal last night and this tonight, I may as well be waving a red cape, daring Cecil to charge.
But even worse than whatever DayGlow would do to retaliate was the fact that number forty-two—Quentin Pike—wouldn’t stop watching me, brows flicking up over and over.
“Does he know you?” Charlie asked.
I swallowed. “No. Not that I remember anyway.”
I’d pushed my stool as close to Griffin’s as it would go. And I’d stayed tucked against him the entire game, using his shoulder to shield as much of myself as I could.
“He’s probably seen pictures of all of us,” Theo said. “And Jules is really pretty. Even I have a hard time not staring sometimes. Not to be creepy.”
“Yeah. We’ve noticed,” Bowen said. “You like shiny, pretty things. And it’s totally creepy, in case you were wondering.”
“So sue me for enjoying the finer things in life,” Theo said. “We’re pals, right?” He reached across Griff to offer me a fist bump. Theo did have a tendency to linger a second too long, but it never felt weird—more like he was studying me, trying to reverse-engineer how a human face ended up like this. “And if I remember correctly, Pike and Liam are buddies.”
“Correction,” Cash said. “Pike and Liamusedto be buddies. They’re not on good terms anymore.”
“I can see why,” Griffin said in a threatening tone.
“There he is,” Bowen said. “Liam’s finally on the field.”
“He is?” Charlie rose up on her toes, craning to see.
