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Instead of answering right away, Burke studied my face. He didn’t smile at what I’d said, and I was glad. Because I didn’t say it to be funny. I was perfectly serious.
“I promise,” he said.
Slowly, I nodded. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go back to my room and start getting ready.”
I took a step back, and just before I turned around, I saw the frustrated slump in his frame.
Whatever this was, I wasn’t alone in it. Something was holding Burke back from doing the thing that we both so clearly wanted.
And I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
BURKE
The lobby of the hotel—and the city as a whole—buzzed with the energy uniquely reserved for the first day of college football. There weren’t many places that could rival a college town on a Saturday during the season, and under any other circumstance, I would have enjoyed the hell out of it.
While I waited for Charlotte to meet me down in the lobby, a few different groups approached me. I signed programs, took a few selfies, and managed not to break the hell down when a little brown-haired kid came up and asked me if I’d sign the jersey he was wearing.
It was Chris’s.
I’d just capped the marker and handed it back to him, my ribs tight and my stomach in knots, when someone approached from behind.
“What a fucking zoo,” Liam said. “I still can’t believe I was friends with someone who attended this nightmare school.”
With a begrudging laugh, I turned and took the hand he offered. Liam Davies was not wearing any maize and blue, but that’s because his role was simply as an escort to the young lady standing at his side, clutching his hand tight in her own.
I crouched down and studied Mira with a tangle of emotions in my sternum. She was nearing three by this point, and Liam was right—she looked exactly like Amie. It was in the hair and her big blue eyes.
“Hey there,” I said. “I haven’t seen you in a while, little miss.”
“You remember your uncle Burke,” Liam said. “He sent the terrible Dallas jersey for Christmas.”
Mira leaned forward and shyly gave me a high five. The chatter in the lobby was too loud to make much conversation with her, and if I was being honest, I wasn’t even sure how much almost-three-year-olds could say.
Tucked in her other hand was a set of headphones. I tapped them. “What are these for?”
Proudly, she stretched them out and settled them over her ears. Then she grinned. “It’s too loud,” she said.
I glanced up, and Liam’s face wore his normal stone-faced expression. But his eyes—they gave him away.
They looked down at Mira like she was his entire world.
“How’s your falling-down house?” he asked.
“Not falling down anymore,” I said.
“You gonna sell it for a pretty penny and ride off into the sunset a richer man?”
I gave him a steady look. “Why do I feel like you’re baiting me right now?”
The look he gave me in return was absolutely fearless, and because we were roughly the same height and build, there was no chance of intimidating him. “Maybe because I am,” he said quietly.
His tone held an edge I didn’t like. And it was a topic of conversation that I wanted nothing to do with. Not today.
I glanced at the elevators, but there was no sign of Charlotte. “Where’s the friend?” I asked.
Liam grunted. “Couldn’t come.”
