I exhale, my chest caving under the weight—or maybe the relief. "Brooke," I say, inching closer. "I'm not leaving."
She stands taller, her eyes darting between mine. "You're not?"
"No." I shake my head slowly. "I never was."
"I read the article, and—"
"It's all bullshit, Brooke," I explain, taking both of her hands in mine. "You have to know that. Hell, you would know better than anyone that what those people say about me isn't true. It was fucking Jane," I scoff. "Can you believe it? Her little tantrum, I guess because of me going rogue."
"For not dating the troll," she adds with a nod. A smile slips past her lips, and it radiates through me like goddamn lightning.
"Maybe," I chuckle. Her face tightens again, and I rush back in. "I handled it, baby," I continue. "I told you I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not. I called my agent before I even left the arena. The papers are already drawn up and with my lawyer. They're all but signed, Brooke. I'm staying in G.C."
She goes to speak, but I cut her off.
Because I know her.
"I'm not just doing this for you either," I add. "This is my home. My team. My city. My friends are here. Mymomis here. And yea..." I tug on her wrist, pulling her just a bit closer. "You're here too, and that means everything to me. But, honestly, this is aboutmylife, Brooke, and for once, I'm taking charge of it."
Her shoulders relax for the first time since I've gotten here, and looking into her chocolate eyes, I seeheragain.My not so mysterious girl.
"God, I was so sure yesterday," she says, glancing down at her feet. "About us. About everything. But then I saw the article, and the accident happened with my aunt, and… I want this, Drew, Ido. That's the point. But apparently I have no clue what the hell I'm doing."
"And you thinkIdo?" I ask through a sigh, tucking a hair behind her ear. "There's a reason you're the only person I've let see this version of me—the real me."
She sucks in a breath, and her hand slips around my waist almost instinctively. "I don't want the giant scissors anymore," she mumbles, leaning her head against my chest.
I laugh, and the rumble moves through both of us. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"
Brooke stands up and loops her arms around my neck. She runs her fingers underneath the cool metal of my chain and brushes gently. "You don't really need to." Her amusement is swallowed by a breath that catches in her throat. "Just know I definitely like you, Twelve. And it feels good." Her eyes glaze over, but her lips turn up. "Really good."
The final weight that sits on my shoulders disappears as she strokes the back of my neck with her thumb. I drop my forehead to hers, eyes closing, lungs filling, words pouring out before I can overthink them. "You have no idea what it feels like to be falling in love with you, Mystery Girl."
Brooke gasps softly, but I pull her in tight before she can respond.
I don't need her reaction. I don't want it right now.
I just want her—us.
Like this.
I've gained a lot of things in these last seven years—money, fame, notoriety. Cars, bikes, brand deals worth more than both of those combined. But I lost myself along the way. When I think about my time as a rookie—an eighteen year old just getting his start, the one willing to do whatever it takes, whatever he's told—I want to scream at him not to worry about the noise.
I want to tell him that winning the hearts of a million fans isn't worth anything if you don't love yourself. I want to stand behind him and whisper in his ear every time he forces himself to attend the party, do the dance, or take the date. Remind him that at the very least, he should find someone to hold on to throughout the chaos. Someone who will be there for him despite it all. Who will trusthimno matter what the world says.
Because that—this—is all that really matters.
Picking up my head, I look into her eyes. She stares back expectantly, like she's asking for guidance on what to say next. But she doesn't need to say anything.
The fact that she's still here says it all.
"So, are you officially done with the Flames then?" I ask, suddenly needing the answer.
Brooke lets her eyes wander, then shrugs. "I guess, yeah. I already scheduled posts through the weekend, and the new girl starts Monday."
I nod, and both of us look at each other knowingly. "Alright then," I say vaguely, a smirk on my face.
After a few quiet seconds, she asks, "Are you going back to finish the game?"
