“Because the fire of those first kisses told me we were right for each other, that we were made for each other.The SCRs on the team warned me about you, about how you never stay with anyone for more than a minute.But we’re at six months, Saylor, and you haven’t opted out.”
“Well, yeah, because we’re having a good time.”I plucked at the top of my legging.“Plus, we have until graduation before the world splits us up.”
“Why would we let the world split us up?”Though the tone of his question was gentle, an unmistakable undercurrent of challenge lingered in his words.
“Come on, Cash.If you go to the NFL, which you should because you’re such a great player,” I hastened to add.“You’ll go wherever the league sends you be that LA or New York or Tampa or Seattle or twenty-eight other cities in between.If I’m lucky, my job will take me around the world.However would we make that work?”Giving him pleading eyes, I said, “If we commit to spring, we can enjoy each other and then let each other go so we can chase our dreams without either holding the other back.”
“Here’s the thing, babe.Kissing you goodbye in an airport while you fly away to Asia or Europe or wherever for three or four months is never going to be on my top-ten list.That won’t stop me from kissing you and cheering for your success on whatever tour you’re filming though.”As if to emphasize his point, he brushed a kiss over my temple.“When I leave town to play in some other city, I’ll only be gone a few days—a week at most.Then I’ll be home.”He kissed me again.“Sometimes, depending on the circumstances, we can be together at each other’s events, support each other in person.”A grin stretched his lips.“If we’re dreaming really big, maybe somewhere in the next few years you’re filming the artist at the halftime show of the Super Bowl I’m playing in.Wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass?”
“Cash.”
He pressed a finger to my lips.“As you said, we don’t have to make decisions right this minute.But I’m going on record that I don’t want us to be over—ever.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cash
For the firsttime in my life, I’d had to work at compartmentalizing school, football, and my personal life.Okay, mostly my personal life.
After I’d spent the night convincing Saylor she wanted to give us more than one more semester, I hadn’t seen her.She’d had some night-into-morning final shoots and edits on her senior project.While I understood filming could be like that, I had a bad feeling she was using school to avoid me—avoid us.
It didn’t sit well.
Especially when thoughts of her sneaked past my defenses and caused an uncharacteristic errant throw in practice.
“Hey, my dude, you got some playoff jitters?”Mick Patterson asked as he hobbled over to me on the sidelines in practice.
He’d graduated from crutches to a walking boot, which he navigated rather well considering the snow that had fallen on the sidelines since the start of today’s practice.Tomorrow was the first playoff game, and as Taco had predicted, our opponents from the southeast were in for a snowy surprise.
“Nah.A momentary loss of concentration.Trust me, I’ll have it fixed by tomorrow morning.”
“Don’t listen to your roommate.Last year the Chanticleers gave us a hell of a game.This stuff”—he kicked at the snow with his good foot—“doesn’t intimidate them at all.You’re going to need to show up the way you showed up against the Golden Bears.Laser those long balls and surprise them with some new moves.”
Funny how, in a few short months, I’d gone from mentor to mentee, but I appreciated Patty’s insights.He studied defenses as though winning football games could lead to world peace.His warnings in the conference championship game had saved my ass in more ways than one.
“After losing to us last year, I imagine they’re going to be out for blood.Plus, they know you’re not behind the controls.No doubt they’ll attack what they consider a weak point—me.You got any insights on their players?”
“Their D-line is going to double-team the hell out of Dally to get to you.Their edge rushers are wicked fast.Your head’s gonna have to be on a swivel the whole game.I don’t think they’re going to let you have too many five-step drops, so I hope that cannon you have for an arm is on a short three-step fuse.”Patty grinned.
I grinned back.“Count on it.Thanks for the help.”
For the rest of practice, I managed to keep my head in the game.Afterward, I had to finish writing a final paper for my kinesiology class—something I wanted to do at Saylor’s place, but she wasn’t responding to my texts.Instead of driving straight home after practice, I drove through the parking lot outside the Film building, but it was mostly empty.I drove by her place, but her sweet little SUV was nowhere in the neighborhood.As a last resort, I drove by the SCR house and came up empty again.
Where the fuck could she be?
Once I’d arrived home, I shot off another text then trudged into my house.Dally was in the kitchen cooking something that smelled heavenly, so I wandered in to see if he’d made enough for a friend.Fortunately, he’d pulled out the industrial-size pots to make spaghetti, and as I ate half my weight in delectable pasta, we talked playoffs, the Chanticleers, and strategy, which kept my mind on the business at hand rather than wandering off into the weeds of where in the hell my girlfriend was.
By the time, I’d finished my homework, it was well past ten.Pulling out my phone—which I’d deliberately stuffed into my backpack when I sat down to write my paper—I found a text from Saylor.
Saylor: Sorry, big guy.Didn’t mean to alarm you.We were in meetings with the dean.Turns out the faculty committee didn’t want to wait until finals week to deal with my complaints.
Me: You okay?
She answered with an eyeroll emoji.
Saylor: Since it’s the end of the semester, he gets to finish.Plus, kicking him out now would jeopardize the team whose film he’s producing this semester.They’re revisiting punishments next week.
Me: You need some company?
