Page 46 of Colliding with Ten

He smirked, leaning back. “For the right teacher? Probably better than you’d expect, at least for a white boy.”

I chuckled. “What about you?” I wanted to shift the focus from me. “What brings you to Colorado?”

“A fundraiser. My foundation hosted an event in Denver today. We raised money for kids dealing with food insecurity, trying to build better programs in underfunded communities.”

That caught me off guard. “You have a foundation?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Been running it since my second year in the league.” His tone stayed light, but it carried pride. “The Lennox Monroe Foundation. The title isn’t very inventive, but the name helps to do a lot of good work. I grew up seeing too many kids go hungry. Figured I could at least try to help.”

My chest flipped. The man was becoming more than just an athlete with thousands of highlight reels online, and I had to admit, I was starting to like him. Sitting next to him in this storm-stalled airport, surrounded by strangers, the space was beginning to feel intimate.

“Sounds like good work.”

He shrugged with a smile on his lips. “Trying.” He turned to look at me again. “Guess this storm has decent timing.”

“Why’s that?”

“It gave me a reason to stop.” His eyes lingered, making my heart trip. “And a better reason to stay.”

I smiled, and with that, he was winning me over.

He held my gaze. “So, how long have you been dancing?”

The question was simple, but it wasn’t for me. I hesitated as my fingers moved over the brace, feeling the fabric beneath my fingertips. “Since I was five. My mom signed me up for classes when we were kids. She said I couldn’t sit still, so she found a way to make that a skill.”

I tried to smile. Instead, I took a big breath and held it, stifling the overwhelming feelings of loss. Even now, after twelve years, the recollection of my mother could still take my breath away.

He sensed the shift and leaned in. “What made you stop?”

I looked down. “Life.” My voice cracked. “My mom got sick when I was little. Huntington’s. Dance made sense when everything else started falling apart. She used to watch me practice, even when she couldn’t move anymore. I’d spin around her bed until she laughed, and for a while, it felt like I could make her forget she was dying.”

Lennox didn’t say anything, but his body tensed, like he was holding his breath for me.

“When she passed, it was just me and AJ,” I went on, eyes fixed on the window where snow still swept across the runway. “Dance and him, that’s what I had. Then AJ went off to college, and it was just dance. And even that stopped feeling like enough. My dad . . .” I exhaled. “He wasn’t easy to be around. I tried for a time to fit the mold of the daughter he wanted, but then it just became too much. So I left. I went to New York to be with AJ. Then I joined the cheering team, and it felt good.”

I didn’t know why I was sharing this with Lennox, except that he made me feel safe.

My throat tensed. “And now, after the injury . . .” I shook my head with a humorless laugh. “It’s like someone cut the music. I keep waiting for it to start again, but it hasn’t.”

Lennox ran a hand over his jaw, eyes fixed far away. “You know . . . I’ve been replaying that game in my head more than I want to admit.”

I flicked my eyes to him. “What?! Why?”

Lennox couldn’t control where he landed when he got hit. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“I shouldn’t have taken off on that play. It wasn’t the right call. The pocket was collapsing, sure, but I could’ve thrown it into coverage. There was an opportunity.”

Throwing it into coverage would have been risky. “The ball might’ve been intercepted.”

“I’ve done it plenty of times. I have the number one receiver in the league. Jace can get any ball.”

He shrugged. There was no ego or attempt to rationalize it, just honesty. This was his quarterback sensibilities at play, picking apart his game.

“Do you regret it?”

He looked at me, and in that look was everything he couldn’t put into words. Worry clouded his eyes as he flicked a glance at my brace. He was known for his cool presence in the pocket, even when defensive linemen twice his size threatened him, and he never doubted he could get the job done. But now his expression was far from confident.

His mouth opened, then closed again. “I . . .” He searched for the right words. “I regret that it happened the way it did and that you got hurt because of me.” His voice sank. “But if I say I regret that night completely . . .”