"Oh," I chuckle but hold it in, sensing the sudden change in her tone. "Um, yeah? What's that?"
She looks out at the dark water beyond the balcony, her mouth set in that determined line.
"I think… I think I'm going to invite my mother to town," she says quietly. "For the Portland game. I want her here when I sell out that arena. I want her to see it with her own eyes."
I go very, very still, sensing how big this might be for her.
Maybe as big as me finally answering my father's calls and telling him just what I think of him.
"Josie—"
"I'm going to show her exactly how wrong she was, and honor Dad's belief in me at the same time." She leans in closer, looking up at me through those long lashes. "But Declan? I'm done keeping secrets. And that includes… you. I want you to be by my side."
My chest locks up.
She wants to tell everyone? About me? About us?
Are we ready for that? AmIready for that?
Fuck.
I shift nervously on the spot, trying my damn hardest to look her in the eyes.
"Okay. I'll… um.Shit.I'll think about it."
She nods slowly, and from where I'm standing, all I can see is…
The countdown just started.
Chapter 17
Josie
I'll have a think about it.
I've replayed Declan's reply so many times over the past week it's basically tattooed on the inside of my skull at this point. Right next toBeachside vs. Portland Thunder, three weeks to go,andsell every seat.
At least one of those things has an actual deadline attached to it.
Shame the real answer I want is apparently still marinating in Declan Morrison's brain like a steak he refuses to take off the grill.
"You know," I say now, watching Declan wrestle a two-foot stack of posters along the boardwalk, "for a professional athlete, you're really struggling with the physical demands of paper."
"It's not the paper I'm struggling with." Declan glares at me over the top of the stack. A gull swoops down and nearly clips him on the back of his head. "It's the wind. And the staple gun you keep waving around like a weapon."
"Itwillbe a weapon if you drop those! Watch what you're doing!"
I grab him by the shoulders, trying to steady a giant man before the stack tumbles on the boardwalk. Which, of course, is like trying to steady a boulder with enormous biceps.
Oh, the biceps.
"Fuck," Declan grunts, managing to collect himself as the bird flies away and he regains his balance. He looks down the boardwalk and sighs with a huff. "Are we nearly done? We've been at this for hours."
I shoot him a look, firing another staple into the nearby lamppost, pinning the corner of the poster flat.
He's right. Thisistaking a long time.
But the boardwalk is slowly coming to life with Bears colors, and when I look back to see the sun rising higher in the sky, I see the trail of advertising propaganda we've set out on every lamppost in Beachside.
