Page 59 of The Longshot

I’m left running my tongue along the inside of my cheek to suppress a smirk. He always has a way to break me free from my mind.

“Go on then.” I willingly shake his hand. “Let’s hear it.”

“Well, where do I begin?” He looks up. “Oh, I was born in Crawley on September thirteenth. It’s part of the reason why I chose that as my jersey number. And as for being born in September, well, if I’m not mistaken, I think that means that I’m a vegan.”

I immediately burst into a fit of laughter. “Gary!” I squeal. “You did not just say that…”

A doubtful look washes over his innocent face. “What? What did I say?”

“A vegan?” I repeat back to him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah?” he scoffs, so unaware. “That’s what I am, right? That’s my zodiac sign.”

I shake my head. “No, Gary, no,” I manage to choke out. “That’s so not right.” I laugh. “So not right at all. You’re a Virgo, Gary. Not a vegan. Those are two completely different things. ”

Creases form around his eyes as he breaks into a smile. “Sorry, love, my mistake. But what do you want me to say? I’m a footballer, not a meteorologist…”

“Gary!” I shout once more, only this time I’m brought to my feet, clutching onto my stomach to suppress the laughter—it hurts so badly—truly, it’s the only kind of pain I’d love to endure for the rest of my life. “Oh my.” I wipe away the tears in an attempt to settle myself. “You’re one of a kind, Gary Wilkinson. You know that? One of a kind.”

With a shameless smile on his lips, Gary joins me in rising to his feet. “Chelsie Windsor.” He takes a subtle step forward. “Was that a compliment I just heard?” He raises a suspicious brow before reaching for my hand and pulling me in close.

I gulp.

“Hm?” His free hand carefully brushes along the apple of my cheek. “Was it?”

My heartbeat intensifies and suddenly, with his careful touch, I lose the ability to speak.

“‘Cause if it was…” he speaks for me, twirling me around before pulling me back in tightly, yet gracefully into his chest. “Then that…” He dips me back, his face now hovering just centimeters above mine. “Is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

With starstruck eyes, I’m left wondering how in the world we’ve just started to dance, but now that we are, I refuse to question it. No one is around. No one can see us, but hell, even if they could, for some reason a part of me wouldn’t care…

He makes me feel this way.

Reckless.

Careless.

Fearless.

WILKS

There’s a saying that in times of uncertainty, one may carry the weight of the world on one's shoulders.

I’d beg to differ.

Who’s to say that the weight of the world is necessarily a bad thing? For what if the weight of the world simply felt like a girl beneath your grasp, staring up at the sky with a sparkle in her eyes and the ability to make you question everything you ever possibly knew?

What if the weight was actually love?

What if the world was actually Chelsie?

The racing thoughts consume my mind as I dip her back, doting on the magnificence she is.

She’s got a body that’ll haunt me for a lifetime.

A voice that will sing me to sleep.

A laugh that will echo throughout my soul and a face that will blissfully torture me for the rest of my days.

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