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“It takes the whole package, Layton.”
“For what it’s worth, I’d work my ass off to win you. I mean, the deep shit, the kind shit, and the wink-and-a-grin shit too. Shame, Pix. Such a shame.” I turn back to the television and mindlessly scroll. My mind is focused one hundred percent on the girl in my arms.
“Are you less scared now?” I ask the television.
“About what?”
“Being here.”
She shrugs against my body.
“I want to stay, Pix. I do. But after last night and Silverberg this morning, I wonder if I should show my face at the practice field, or at least meet with someone. You being gone is reasonable. Us both being gone on the same day, the day after another Tustin encounter, could come off fishy.”
I feel her head crane to look at mine.
“Make no mistake, I’d rather be here, wrapped up in you, and I’ll definitely be back…” I turn to look at her. “But thiswhole package”—I gesture up and down my body with my free hand—“Won’t compromise your dream job.”
I pull her up so she’s prone over my body, lying atop me. I frame her face with my hands, staring up into her sun-kissed, makeup-less face. I search her eyes as she searches mine.
Fuck my life. It’s always a matter of what I want versus what is right.
I diet. I train. I lift. I work.
I won’t accept the junior varsity squad when I could be varsity.
Not good enough to make the team, I need to start.
It’s not enough to start, I need to set records.
It’s not enough to be drafted, it’s got to be first round.
It’s not enough to get hired, I need to get reps.
It’s not enough to get reps, I want to make highlights.
It’s always about putting off what I want now for what I want most.
And looking up into Olivia Morgan’s eyes, I don’t know that I want anything enough to sacrifice knowing her for it.
But I risk nothing, and she risks everything.
She lowers her face to mine. “Layton,” she whispers as she tentatively kisses me.
And every thought of what she’s jeopardizing, her job on the line, her career, everything she’s worked for is out the window with all my chivalry and discipline. In the game of what is right versus what I want, for the first time in my life, I’m choosing what I want.
And I wanther.
ELEVEN
BRUTAL BEAUTY
LAYTON
Igrowl as she kisses me and do one crunch, knocking our heads into each other.
“Ow.”
“Ouch.” I laugh at how ridiculous the situation is.
