I hated that thought. But after last night, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t want more.
So, I needed to tell Adam, too. Even if it changed things with me and the Barrows.
Not wanting her to wake up alone and wondering where I went, I wrote a quick note, telling her I wanted to let her get some sleep, but that we should talk when I got back. I set it on the bedside table before turning back to her.
Unable to help myself, I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Addie sighed in her sleep, and a smile drifted over her features as she snuggled into the pillow I’d been sleeping on and tucked it against her body. The effect that one barely conscious action had on me caught me off guard.
But I forced myself to leave the room before I woke her and confessed everything. I needed to be smart about this, not spook or overwhelm her after what she’d just been through. I couldn’t do anything that might send her running from me again.
And I needed to know what I’d done that hurt her so much the first time.
Mostly, to be sure I never did it again.
She and I were long overdue for an honest conversation, and even though she couldn’t hear it, I vowed silently that when I got back, we’d have that talk.
After I got dressed, I went up to the loft and did my best to wake Adam. When I told him I was leaving and to keep an ear out for Addie, he mumbled in response. When my phone buzzed, I nudged Adam again.
He gave me a thumbs up, and I left for my meeting.
When I arrived at the stadium, my coach, a gruff man in his fifties who doled out praise as rarely as Willy Wonka passed out golden tickets, looked surprisingly happy to see me.
“Blake, my boy!” His voice echoed inside the concourse, and it amplified his greeting.
“Hi, Coach,” I called as I jogged over to him.
At his side, he clapped me on the shoulder. “Let’s go to my office. I’ve got news, and you know how the sound carries out here.”
He shot me a wink, and then he led me into his office. Pointing to a chair to indicate I should take a seat, he sat at his desk. “So…how’s my star player doing this morning?”
I chuckled nervously, taking a seat. “I’m good, Coach. Curious now, I guess.”
Steepling his hands in front of him, he assessed me like he’d won the lottery. “Then I won’t beat around the bush. Danvers officially put in his request to transfer this morning.”
My brows shot up.
Coach hummed a sound of affirmation, letting the news hang in the air between us.
Danvers was our starting quarterback, the only guy between me and a starting position on the team. I’d been playing behind him, taking playing time when I got it and learning everything I could before he left at the end of next year.
Everyone expected him to head to the NFL draft a year before graduation.
The last thing I’d expected was this.
“I don’t understand. Why’d he transfer?”
Coach shrugged. “Family stuff. That’s all he said. Wouldn’t give any more details than that. Just said he needs to finish his degree closer to home and turned in his jersey.”
“But…he was going to the NFL. He?—”
“Doesn’t matter, honestly. His decision’s been made and all we can do is adjust accordingly, right?” He sat back in his chair, one arm propped on the armrest and a hand on his chin. “That’s why you’re in my office this morning. Now…should we talk about Danvers or should we talk about your future?”
He pointed to the whiteboard behind me, the familiar Xs and Os drawn out in one of my favorite plays. The Quarterback Sneak. My eyes fell on the marker for the QB, and I read my name beneath it.
“You’re officially QB1 now. If you want the job, of course. The rest of the plan doesn’t change. Only difference is an extra year as a starter for me, hopefully a national championship or two, and a Heisman Trophy in there for you, if you live up to that strut you’ve been walking around here.”
He smirked, and I flushed. My ears burned with embarrassment, and I rubbed the back of my head to ease the sensation. His good-natured laugh assured me he was only teasing.
