Page 24 of Last Slice of Pie

I look back down at my phone. I saved the photos of us together that popped up in the media after the event. She hasn’t said anything, so I’m not sure if she’s seen them, but they are out there and we look great together. There are a couple from our PR team, and I was tagged in several on social media. Sports bloggers have dubbed her the mystery girl, but it won’t take them long. Vultures—they’re all fucking vultures.

Two days after the event, I woke up to an email from James: That’s some mystery girl you’ve got there. I could hear his tone through the words, curiosity mixed with warning, but I’m not afraid. I’m finally going to be good enough for her. She’s what I want, so I manned up, owned it, and replied, You got a problem with this?

His response was quick. Nope. Just don’t make me have to break that golden arm of yours.

Relief I hadn’t known I needed swept through me.

A day after that, I received another email that said, Took you long enough.

I don’t know why I’ve been worried all these years about what he would say. I should have known he’s always known me better than I know my own self.

“You know, for being the most fiercely determined person I know, you’re kind of a pansy when it comes to this girl. It’s as simple as this: do you want her or not? Because if you do, go get her.” Jack pounds the seat next to me with his hand.

“Go get her,” I mumble, echoing his words back to him as I look back and forth between him and Reid.

He’s right; I do need to go get her. Texting with her has been great, but that only gets me so far. Also, I know her—she isn’t going to make the next move. It has to be me, and as I realize this, I feel like maybe she’s always been waiting for me to make my move.

Adrenaline stirs in my veins.

Jack sees it, the change in me, and pounds the top of the seat again. “That’s right. Go. Get. Her.”

I feel the attention of others turn our way, but I don’t care. A smile slowly splits my face, and my gaze moves to lock onto Reid’s. He smiles back; he knows.

Go get her.

I needed this pep talk from them. I know that’s stupid, but I did. I get stuck in my head, and I can’t help it. So much of the way I think is black and white. I follow the rules, I always do what’s right, and I’m unyielding in social situations. But, when it comes to Lexi, everything is uncharted waters, and there’s no playbook to help me navigate the best route.

Hmm, maybe that’s what I need—an offensive plan, a strategy. I need a plan that tears down the defense, one play at a time. As much as I’d like to throw a Hail Mary pass and get straight to the part where we’re together, I’m not desperate. Time isn’t running out, and I can do this right.

Yeah, I can definitely do this.

Going into this season, I knew it was going to be my year. I felt it deep down in my bones, and to date, our team is undefeated. We’re a shoo-in for the playoffs, and we will win the Super Bowl.

I’m going to be the best.

I’ve got the blessing from her brother, and I’m finally going to get the girl.

Pumpkin Pie

WITHOUT PAYING ATTENTION, it just barely registers to me that beyond the beveled glass window of the front door, there is the shadow of a large body as I throw it open and push through the screen door. No one was supposed to be there, and with the smoke billowing out from behind me, I trip into them, gasping for clean air. Strong hands wrap around my biceps to steady me, and they pull me out of the doorway.

“What the hell is burning?” a deep voice yells. The dots all connect, and I find myself being examined for injuries by Bryan as he walks around me and runs his hands up and down my body.

I repeat: he runs his hands up and down my body.

Oh my.

“Nothing is burning.” I cough. “Well, except for the fireplace, but I don’t know what’s wrong with it.” I fan out my shirt to try to erase the smell clinging to me.

“What do you mean you don’t know what’s wrong with it?” His body is tense, and when I glance up at his face, it’s locked tight with concern. Eyes framed in long honey lashes, ones I know like I know my own, bear down on me with alarm, and my heart stutters.

He’s here, standing on my porch.

“I mean I don’t know. It’s cold outside, so I thought it would be nice to build a cozy fire, and then this happened.” I wave my hand toward the inside of the house. Most of the smoke has escaped, but both of us can see it as it still hangs faintly in the air.

Stepping away from me, Bryan rubs his hand over his face and then the back of his head. I should be more frustrated—after all, I’m certain this is just going to be another repair added to the long list of them—but Bryan’s presence has me pinching my lips together to keep from smiling.

I’m so happy he’s here. The unexpected joy that has filled me outshines the part of me that should be angry.