A smirk pulls at my mouth.There she is, all sharp-tongued and always two steps ahead.
I shove my phone in my pocket, chest still tight but a little lighter now.She’s coming over.She’s giving me that shot too, even if she’s pretending it’s about homework.
I’ve got one chance to fix everything.Football, get it back on track.Earn that Mayfair offer.
Sam, I’m fucking done with dark corners and half-truths when all I wanna do is grab her hand in front of everyone and make sure they know.She’s mine.My fucking girl.My Red.
Chapter 22
Reece
Icheckthetime,thencheck it again.
Twenty-eight minutes.Not that I’m counting.Or that I’ve been planted at the kitchen bench this entire time with the same can of Pepsi slowly going flat in my hand.Not that I’ve opened the fridge, stared into it, shut it, then opened it again just to pass the time.
She’s late.
Not Sam getting distracted late with the sorry-I-got-caught-up-grabbing-a-pen late.This is different.
It’s the kind of late that makes my mind chatter.
Every worst-case scenario lines up, one after another, loud as hell.
Did she change her mind because it’s not worth it, or did someone say something to her?
Or did something happen on the way here?
Did the fear finally win?
I hate how quickly my thoughts turn to shit when she’s not where I expect her to be.
I run a hand through my hair and tell myself to calm the fuck down.She’s fine.She’ll walk through the door any second.
I check the time again.
Yeah, she’ll be here.She always shows up.
We haven’t put much effort into the assessment at all.Grades are important to her.Her future matters.She doesn’t half-ass anything.
She’ll bring her books, her highlighters, that determined little frown—but it’s always her mouth I keep tasting.Her moan in my ear and her thighs around my waist.Her nails dragging down my back while I fuck her across every surface in this place.
I exhale sharply and try to push the nerves away.
I wonder what she’ll say when I tell her there’s a scout coming.That Mayfair might actually see me.Might actually want me.
I wonder if she’ll want me there with her.If she sees me in her future, just like I’m starting to see her in mine.
Shit, listen to me.Acting like I already have the offer, as if the scout already has my name on the damn scholarship.
The doorbell rings.
I don’t walk.I launch forward like I’m running a drill.My heart fucking jumps, nearly knocking the can out of my hand.
My hand hits the doorknob too fast.I yank the door open.
There she is.
Damn, she is beautiful.
