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“It takes that long?”
“Thousands of applicants, remember?”
“Damn, you’re starting to make my situation seem easy in comparison.”
“Hardly.” She snorts. “At least, for normal people. Not everyone has the God-given talent and determination you have. I imagine it’s not so simple for most.”
“It’s not simple for me,” I argue.
“Come on. You already know you’re going to make it. I’d venture to say you started meeting with NFL coaches last year after the incredible season you had. Everyone probably wants you.”
“Not everyone, and meetings mean nothing until there’s a contract on the table. Yeah, I turned a few heads last season, but if I don’t deliver an even better performance this year, I’ll be lucky if I go in round six.”
“Round six?” Her face scrunches in confusion. “There are rounds?”
“To the draft?” I chuckle. “Yeah. You go round one, it means you’re part of the elite. Round-oners get better contracts right out of the gate. The further down you drop, the more irrelevant you become and the less you get paid. Now, that’s not to say that there aren’t some incredible players who get picked up later, or not at all and have to try out with a team to even be given a shot. There are. But I don’t want to be one of those guys. I want to be at the top.”
“Well, you’re undefeated so far this season. That has to be a good start, right?” She nibbles on her bottom lip in a way that has me wanting to lean in and do the same.
“It doesn’t hurt,” I admit.
“I may not know much about football, but I know enough to know when I’m watching someone special.” She doesn’t hold my gaze as she speaks, instead choosing to look down at the pencil in her hand.
“You think I’m special?” I don’t know why, but her opinion of me feels like it weighs a hell of a lot more than it should. And that should scare me. And hell, maybe it does scare me a little. But it intrigues me a hell of a lot more.
“I do.” She finally meets my gaze.
“For what it’s worth, I think Laboe would be idiots not to want you.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not actually. I don’t say shit just to say it. If I say it, I mean it. I saw your design sketches, Rory. You’re incredibly talented.”
“So are a million other people,” she grumbles.
“But you have something most other people don’t, the will to do what it takes to get there.”
“I guess we’re kind of alike in that way.” A trace of a smile touches her lips. “Now, turn your face or I’m never going to get this finished.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”
And we wouldn’t. Because tonight I don’t want to share her with anyone or anything.
Tonight, she’s going to be all mine.
Distractions and fear be damned.
I’m in too deep to turn back now, and fuck if I even want to.
“Turn.” She gestures with her pencil.
“Yes, ma’am.” I tip my chin before shifting my face just so.
