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For some stupid reason, I envision her in her butterfly costume and my pulse spikes. Not because it’s some messed-up fantasy of mine, but because I can’t remember a time I ever felt that comfortable around anyone, and it has me intrigued.
More than it should.
“If you could keep your screaming to a minimum, I’d greatly appreciate it.” I change the subject, hoping Henley doesn’t pick up on the fact that my thoughts drifted. “I’m a professional first, brother second.”
“Are you sure about that? I think you have it backward.”
“Not when I’m on the field, I don’t.”
“You, dear brother, make me laugh. And because of that comment, I’m going to scream my little heart out. For the Phantoms.”
“Works for me. I’m more than happy for you to attach yourself to the wrong team. Bye, Henley.”
“Bye, Beck. Love you.”
I hang up to her soft laughter and toss my phone onto the bed. A knot of tension tries to ruin my happiness, but I bury it and focus on what little I can that’s positive. I love the thought of Mom being there tomorrow. She’s the reason I’m so focused. The reason I work hard to keep everyone happy. She sacrificed so much for me to play football, and while I frequently send her money—that she constantly tries to refuse—and do everything I can to keep her name out of the media, it will never be enough.
It’s been years since she attended one of my games. It was easier that way. Being attached to me comes at a cost. I moved away to ensure I never put her or anyone else through any unnecessary pain, and until now it’s been working.
One game shouldn’t change that, right?
With a deep breath, I clench and release my fists a few times, letting go of the stress coursing through me before I allow myself to smile.
I have someone to play for tomorrow.
And I’m sure as hell not going to fuck that up. Because who knows if it will ever happen again.
Chapter Seven
LILY
The afternoon sun reflects off the crisp white table as I shift a couple of the books on our Thanksgiving display. This year, we’re thankful for book boyfriends. At least, Henley is. She’s the avid romance reader of the two of us. I’m more of a thriller lover. Give me something that will keep me up all night, heart racing, and I’m obsessed. At least, I was. More recently, I’ve been reading books about crayons going on adventures, or pugs that try to steal attention.
It’s different, sure, but I’m not complaining.
I’m usually exhausted by the time Ava’s asleep each night anyway, so instead of reading, you’ll find me lazing around on the couch, bingeing a mindless TV series. Rather than seeking out books that challenge me to think, I’m desperate for something that allows me to switch off completely. A show I could literally walk away from for twenty minutes and still have a fairly good idea of what’s going on.
That’s my jam.
Though I do miss a good twist.
Speaking of which, I slip one of my old favorites into the book boyfriend mix and check the time, wondering how long it will take for Henley to notice. She’ll undoubtedly think I’m misleading our readers, but I’m ready to assure her she's wrong. The chemistry in this book is beyond sizzling, and while Henley would gasp over the fact that they never share more than a kiss on the page, Mr. Wilde definitely had me fanning myself while I was reading. The way he’d walk through fire to protect the leading lady—despite the fact that she’s his number one suspect, information he keeps to himself for a good portion of the book—is my idea of romance.
My body flushes just thinking about their secret glances and high stakes moments.
“What is that?” Henley shouts from behind me, her eagle eyes taking less than two minutes to find the odd one out.
“That, my dear friend, is a book.”
“Obviously, but why is it on our book boyfriend stand?”
“Because I’ll have you know that Mr. Wilde is dreamy.”
“Dreamy?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, bless your adorable heart. These guys here…” She points to the other nine books we have featured on display—the half-naked bodies, the suggestive artwork lined up beside them—and curls her lips into a smirk. “These guys are not dreamy. They’re possessive and rich and so obsessed with their woman they’d burn down the world for them.”
