Page 84 of Right Up His Alley

Ezra makes a sound in the back of his throat, pleasure or surprise—or both—and I swallow it like it belongs to me.

“Whoa, whoa.” He stops, placing his hands on my chest and gently pushing me back. My lips latch onto his neck, refusing to abandon the taste of his salty skin. “I need to say something.”

“Okay. You talk; I kiss.” He lets me back in, and I nuzzle into him, my tongue tracing the back of his ear.

“Oh, god,” he moans. “I’m… I want to say… hmm.” He lets out a soft, aching whimper. Then another, louder than the last, as I nibble on his earlobe. “Fuck, True. I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”

Slowly, I pull back. “Baby, you don’t have to apologize. I get it. I was mad. Devastated even, but I also understood.”

“No,” he says, gathering himself. “I thought by breaking up with you, it would help keep the alley from being rejected. I let my anxiety about not being selected force me to give up on what… who was pushing me to keep going. I was so angry that everything I’ve worked for on my own was gone. One click and my entire tattoo career just vanished, and I didn’t even know why. I don’t care about this damn bowling alley. I just…”

“You do care. You care because, deep down, you want to see this place be a success the way your father made it a success. You want to keep his legacy alive. But guess what?” I look down and trace my fingers over the ink winding around his sleeve. “You are allowed to care about your own success too.”

A breath pushes through his lips. “You’ve said this to me before, but why don’t I believe it?”

“In order to believe it, you have to believe in yourself. I’m starting to learn that for me too.”

“How the fuck do I do that?” He lets out a laugh before shaking his head. “I can’t seem to figure out what matters to me more.”

I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’ve asked myself the same question since the day I walked back into this fucking alley.” I smile. “It took me a while, but I realized something. Even though I didn’t solely choose my path, I’m accepting my happiness with all I’ve accomplished. That’s enough for me. Now, I want something more. Something professional bowling can’t give me.

“Dropping out of the tournament was what I needed to do. Not for you, not for Spare Time, but for me. I was afraid to do it because I didn’t trust myself, and I didn’t believe I could be enough. How do you do that too? I can’t tell you. All I can say is you just do it. You choose you over everything else.”

“Truett, it’s different for you. You deserve a break from bowling. Like you said, you accomplished your goals. You’re a champion. You’ve made your mark. Who am I if the mark I make isn’t for my family? I still need to prove something here. Right?”

I raise my hand, my finger pressing gently against his lips. “It frustrates me to know you don’t see what size mark you’ve already made on your family, this world, in this community. On me. You may not have built this bowling alley, but you damn sure kept it going when we all needed it the most. I came back here, didn’t I? I knew Spare Time was my home. I may be a champion bowler. But you, Ezzie?” I pause, wanting to make sure the next thing I say sinks in. “You give and give to everyone around you, all for a dream that isn’t even yours. That makes you a fucking hero.”

“That sounds dramatic.” He tries to scoff, but it falters. His face burns red, and his eyes well just slightly before he can stop it.

“It’s the truth. You deserve to chase your own dream and ink an even bigger mark than you already have.” I keep my eyes on his as I gently wipe his cheek, my thumb catching a tear.

Ezra surges forward and kisses me, then pulls back slowly, our bodies still close. The salty taste of his tears lingers on my lips. He raises his eyebrows. “So, does your dad know you dropped out?”

I laugh. “I don’t think he’s jumping off the walls. I think he’s still processing it.”

“It’s a lot to process. His big-time professional bowler son isn’t abiding by his every demand anymore. I’m proud of you.”

“I won’t lie. Confronting him was terrifying. But it got easier as I was realizing in the moment I didn’t want to be the person he wanted me to be.”

“And who did he want you to be?”

“Him.” I swallow and tilt my head slightly, focusing on the small reflection in Ezra’s eyes. I catch the twinkle of my own staring back at me. “Just like you, I want to try being me for once.”

“Does this mean I’m not dating a professional bowler anymore? Are you retiring?”

“Retiring makes me sound old.” I laugh. “It might sound crazy because I definitely drew the line in the sand with my dad, but I don’t know yet. I don’t think I’m done with bowling. I’m definitely not done with Spare Time. I think…” I pause. “I think I want to be a bowling coach. I think you’re dating a teacher now.” I scan Ezra’s face for any sign I’m making a huge mistake. “When I was in Dallas, some kid came up asking for my help. He reminded me of how much fun bowling can be.”

“Aw, well, I wish I knew somewhere hiring a bowling instructor…”

The corners of my mouth tick up. “Well, it's funny you say that. I was hoping you’d have a connection. I’ll email you my resume.”

“Shit, please don’t send me an email until I get myself a new computer that wasn’t made in the 90s.” He tucks his head into my shoulder and laughs even harder before pulling away.

My mouth tugs into a grin before I can stop it. I pull him back into my chest, and my arms wrap around his waist. I can’t seem to remember if there was a time I was as happy as I am at this moment. “So, seriously, do you think I can start teaching at Spare Time?”

“With the way business has picked up, I don’t see why not. We may need to look at hiring a lot more people with all this momentum today. If it keeps up.”

“It will.” My lips find his again, softer this time, savoring the moment. His hand settles just above my hip before I whisper, “Will there be an interview for the position?”