Page 77 of The Longshot

Her hands are soft, and instantly, I melt into her.

“You know, Wilks isn’t half-bad,” she admits, pulling back with a smile. “At least what I saw out there today proved that to be true.”

Today’s game was a remarkable feeling—and now, knowing that she was there, I can understand why. There was something special in the crowd. It’s like instinctively, I knew she was here, bringing luck to me in every possible way.

I bite down on my lip. “Tell me,” I’m curious to see where this question leads us. “What did you come here today to say to me? I thought you needed some time to think?”

I watch as she toys with an answer until finally, she seems to settle on one with a breath. “I did, but all that thinking brought me back to the same conclusion…”

I raise a brow.

“I like you, Gary. I like you a lot. The other night, when things escalated. I just got scared. All of this…” She gestures between the two of us as my heart inflates. “I don’t know. I’ve just never had something feel so… so…”

“Right?” I finish her sentence for her, watching as her face softens, and she faintly nods.

“But scary at the same time,” she continues. “I don’t know what to expect from you, Gary.” She tilts her head in thought. “You’re this big Crawfield star who the ladies love, and I’m… I’m…”

“You.” We continue to finish each other's sentences.

There’s a look of disappointment in her eyes as they drop towards the ground. “Yeah, I’m just… me.”

Now I’m the one tilting her chin upwards, looking right into those beautiful blue eyes, wishing I’ll never have to look away.

“And tell me, what the hell is wrong with that, huh? Because frankly,” I admit. “When I look at you, all I can see is this magnificent girl who, time and time again, I seem to blow my chances with. I’m no star, love. I’m far from it. Hell, I don’t even like the word, but when I’m with you… you make me feel like I’m one. You make me feel special because whatever this is between the two of us, it is special. It’s real.”

She rests her head in my hand as I caress along the soft of her cheek until, eventually, she interlaces our hands as one. “I’m sorry for how I left things the other night. For running off,” her voice is quiet but loud enough so that I can hear her. “It's a bad habit of mine, one that I need to break out of.”

“Love.” I squeeze her hand softly, tenderly bringing it up to my lips to plant a kiss. “The only place I need you to stop running… is through my mind.”

She laughs. She smiles. She rolls her eyes playfully as she blushes. “Gosh, Gary.” She can hardly look at me, but I love it. “That was embarrassingly cheesy.”

“I know, but I couldn’t help it,” I admit. “I just missed that smile…” My innermost thoughts come outwards as I hold back on my desire to brush my thumb along her lower lip. “I’ve missed it more than you know.”

“Oh, I think I know,” she responds. “‘Cause your sense of humor?" She says sheepishly. “I’ve missed that too.”

As the sun sets on the horizon, we’re left staring at one another just like we were when this all began, a beckon of new beginning looming.

“Do you think we can give this another go?” I can’t help but ask, brushing my hand through her golden hair. “On your terms, with your lead?” I propose. “I want to make this work, Chelsie,” I tell her. “I do.”

She tugs on her lower lip before, all at once, she’s back to staring into my eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

I start to smile—I start to smile so wide that it hurts my cheeks when I do, Christ, and when Chelsie does the same, it almost pains me not to pull her in and crash my lips against hers.

“What are you thinking about?” She catches onto the fact that I’m no longer looking into her eyes but left fixated on her rosy lips.

I swallow as I meet her stare. “Just that if I wasn't letting you take the lead, that I’d kiss you right now.”

Her breath hitches in the back of her throat as she stares up at my lips. “Well then…” she breathes, clutching onto the collar of my shirt before she pulls me in for a kiss. “It’s a good thing that I am.”

TWENTY

C H E L S I E

“What about Wednesday?” Ruby asks as she leans against the doorframe, watching me scramble to apply a final layer of mascara.

“I can’t,” I respond. “Gary and I are going to see a film. An action movie or something like that.” I switch to work on the other eye, opening my mouth in an attempt to help sturdy the applicator.

Ruby furrows her brows and folds her arms across her chest. “I thought you hated action films?”

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