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When he drops the fourth poster, there’s yet another.
Can we talk after the game?
There’s a tap on my shoulder. It’s almost difficult to pry my gaze away from him as I turn and find a smiling girl holding an oversized bouquet.
“These are for you,” she says, shoving them into my hands.
They’re a beautiful mix of brightly colored wildflowers.
When I glance back at Crosby, he’s holding one last sign.
Please, baby? Don’t leave me hanging.
Even though I told myself there wasn’t anything he could say or do to change my mind, I find myself caving with a quick nod. A slight smile tips the corners of his lips before he jogs off the field. It’s only when he disappears inside the tunnel that I become aware of the crowd cheering around me.
Heat fills my face as I bury my nose in the fresh blooms. As I do, a thought occurs to me, and I turn to Sasha. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”
The happiness radiating from her face is a clear giveaway. “Maybe.”
Even though I shake my head, I’m finding it impossible to be angry with her.
She wraps an arm around my shoulders and tugs me close. “Just consider it payback for setting me up with your cousin.”
A chuckle escapes from me. I’d almost forgotten about that.
“Bitch,” I mutter.
“Right back at you, babe.”
And this, my friends, is why Sasha will always be my bestie.
41
CROSBY
I huff out a breath as I slam the locker door closed and grab my athletic bag. Even though I should be riding high from our win this afternoon, a thick knot of tension has taken up residence in the pit of my belly. Brooke might have agreed in front of a packed stadium full of fans to meet up, but I have no idea if she’ll actually wait around. Maybe she only agreed because I put her on the spot.
At the time, standing on the sidelines with the posterboards and declaring my feelings had seemed like a grand romantic gesture.
Chicks like that kind of thing, right?
Now, after a couple of hours, I’m not so sure. It’s entirely possible that all I’ve done is push her further away when all I want to do is keep her close.
A heavy hand lands on my shoulder, knocking me from the tangle of my own thoughts. I glance up and find Andrew. Unsure how he’ll react, my muscles stiffen. The last thing I want to do is stir up more shit when the dust has barely had a chance to settle from the last time.
“I saw what you did out there, man. It was pretty cool. Good luck.”
That’s all it takes to have everything loosening inside me. “Thanks.”
I think we can all agree that I’m going to need it.
He jerks his head into a nod before walking away. Even though we’ve been good since hashing everything out after practice, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit the easy comradery we’ve always had is no longer there. Sometimes I wonder if we’ve stayed close for this long because we both played football and attended the same school. We seemed to have more in common when we were younger.
Now? Not so much.
Normally, when those thoughts pop into my brain, I shove them away, not wanting to inspect them too closely.
But now…
I’ve come to accept that maybe we’ve grown apart over the years. Some of the teammates I’ve met at Western have become better friends. Guys like Easton, Carson, Asher, Brayden, and Rowan. These are the ones I turn to if something happens, or I need their bullshit advice. They’re the ones I’ll remain in contact with long after we graduate and move on with our lives. Not because we’ve been friends for a long time but because I actually like who these guys are, and I respect them.
Even Asher.
Trust me, that’s a painful admittance.
But he’s a good dude.
Deep down.
Beneath all the pot, pussy, and beer.
It's only after the locker room clears that I realize there’s no point in dragging my feet and delaying the inevitable. Brooke will either be out there waiting for me or not. Even if she does take pity on me and decide to hear me out, there’s no guarantee she’ll forgive me for deceiving and hurting her.
When it comes down to it, that’s exactly what I did. Nothing I say or do will change that truth. It’s a regret I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.
With my duffel thrown over my shoulder, I push through the locker room door and into the brightly lit corridor. Air clogs my lungs as I glance around. My heartbeat stutters a painful beat when I don’t immediately find her. There are a few pockets of people shooting the shit and rehashing the game. Under normal circumstances, that’s exactly what I’d be doing.
