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With the windows rolled down, he caresses my hand behind the gear shift as the night air blows against my skin.
“Stop thinking so much, Scarlett,” he whispers.
“I’m not thinking at all.”
“It's four in the morning and if anyone on this campus is awake right now, they’re not heading anywhere we are. Trust me.”
“Okay.” I let out a breath and try to focus on the moment.
On us.
An hour later, he’s pulling past his house and into our old hangout spot, but it looks far different from how I remembered it.
In place of the old shack is a beautiful, black A-frame cabin, complete with a tin hot tub on its deck and two grey hammocks on its side.
“Whenever I wasn’t practicing with the football team this summer, I worked on this,” he says. “I came here every time I thought of you.”
“How often was that?”
“Every fucking day.” He trails a finger against my lips. “Coach said we have forty eight hours before we have to completely lock in and focus on the season. I need to spend all that time with you. Preferably right here.”
I look up at the cabin again, stunned at the details.
“Something wrong?” he asks.
“Yeah…I’m feeling extremely guilty right now,” I say.
“Why?”
“The only thing I brought you back from London is custom tea.”
He lets out a low laugh. “I got an umbrella and some pajamas in the mail from you last week, too. That’s good enough, but I don’t think that’s what you’re really thinking about.”
It’s not…“It’s silly, but I have to ask you something.”
“The answer is no, Scarlett.”
“Have you slept with anyone else since I’ve been gone?” I ask the question anyway. “I’ve read comments and seen things online, and I trust you, but there’s just a small part of me that—”
“I haven’t slept with anyone else since you.” He kisses my lips and unbuckles my seatbelt. “And we’re about to make up for several months of lost time.”
32
EASTON
Quarterback Easton Rush STUNS in Season Opener
Alabama Has Never (EVER!) Looked Better
In Rush We Trust! 410 Completion Yards for Easton!
The national, local, and school level headlines are what I’ve dreamed of for years. The adrenaline rush I feel each time I run out of the tunnel and into a stadium full of crimson and white dressed fans on game day is utter magic.
The first weeks of the semester are falling into a predictable pattern that only needs one deletion to be perfect.
There’s practice, practice, practice, content with Tully, class, class, and more practice. And then every night ends with me climbing through Scarlett’s window, sliding under her sheets and making sure she knows that she’s the love of my life.
She always will be.
