Page 52 of The Comeback

“Something going on in your personal life that I should know about? Something that might keep you in Houston?”

Subtle, Kristen. She’s obviously seen the pictures of me and Jett, and since they’re still floating around social media, my Atlanta colleagues were bound to see something I was tagged in. There’s so much that I’m tagged in.

I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch, but yeah. I’m counting on something in Houston—on someone in Houston—wanting me around forever.

“It’s just a lot,” I hedge.

“Ava…” Kristen sighs out my name, a hint of desperation in her tone. “Don’t answer right now. Take some time to consider. Let me at least run a couple of ideas past you to whet your appetite.”

Jett’s name on the sports program pulls my attention from the conversation, and the screen flips to the postgame interviews. The way Jett holds his fist to his heart as he starts answering a question pulls a startled gasp from me. That can’t be a coincidence.

“Ava?”

I move closer to the TV and turn up the volume, murmuring, “Mmm-hmmm” to something Kristen says about The Four Seasons Atlanta.

I hold my breath while I listen to Jett’s answer to the reporter about coming back from last week’s mistakes. The reporters in the room are looking at each other in confusion when he clearly veers away from football to his personal life.

My heart has stopped.

I don’t know how long ago these interviews took place. The game’s been over for a couple of hours. I’m surprised I haven’t heard from Gabriella. Colby would have told her what Jett said since it’s unlikely Gabriella watched the interviews in real time.

“Ava?”

I watch as Jett pushes away from the table amid the clamor of the reporters, everyone shouting over each other. Colby grins widely, and after everything, that pulls a laugh from me.

“Jett McCombs is going to steal you away from me, isn’t he?”

Maybe it’s hearing his name that drags my attention back to my conversation with Kristen.

“Um, what?”

She sighs. “You need time to think. Call me in a couple of days.”

“Yeah. Sounds good,” I respond, still distracted. I hang up on her before she even says goodbye.

My phone buzzes, startling me again. My hands shake as I look at the screen, lit up with a text from Jett.

Jett: Where are you?

Ava: Home. Where are you?

Jett: On my way to you.

I’m waiting on the deck, staring at the road, bouncing up and down with anticipation when Jett pulls up. He rushes up the steps, and as soon as he reaches me, I throw my arms around him. He pulls me so close to him I almost can’t breathe. I bury my face in his neck.

“Did you mean it?” I ask.

“Every word.” He sets me down to look at me. “I didn’t realize it until last week, but I’ve been planning for a life with you. All these years. I came to all that stuff you planned for Gabriella just for you, Ave. My heart is as much yours as it was seven years ago, when I let you go.”

I put my hands on his face, lifting myself up on tiptoe. “I’m sorry. I’m so desperately sorry that I left. I was dumb, Jett. I didn’t even stop to think about all the other options we had. You said you might quit football, and I just panicked.”

He leans his head against mine. “I shouldn’t have let you go that easily. I let hurt blind me to the idea that it could work out for us, to seeing that you thought my happiness depended on football. I’m desperately sorry too.” His voice is soft, breaking with emotion.

I answer by kissing him. He wraps his arms back around my waist, pulling me up and to him. I feel it instantly, how different this kiss is than last week’s. It’s not desperation moving his lips over mine—it’s lost time. It’s hope instead of longing.

It’s forever.

It takes us a long time to make up for seven years of missed kisses like this. I pull him into my house. I have to lean against the wall just inside the door to hold myself up. I’m weak and useless, boneless in his arms and in the face of his renewed love.

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