Page 227 of Out of Bounds

I had no idea.

For the first time in my life, that bothered me.

It did more than bother me. It wore away at me, breaking through skin and muscle, digging down to where I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I would start playing professional ball and Kassie had another year and a half of being away from me.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. All I was looking for was hard numbers, some kind of percentage I could hold to.

How often do long term relationships last?

I swore under my breath and had to stop myself the moment I saw the percentages. They were across the board but none of them were good. I tossed my phone back and tightened my hold on Kassie, staring up at the ceiling again.

That was the mother of my future children and I would have to say goodbye again and again. The thought of that ripped away at me.

What if she misses the interview?

Slowly, I turned away from the ceiling and gazed down at the perfect woman, wrapped up in me. Her dark hair draped over my arm and she had her cheek pressed to my chest, wearing nothing more than one of my shirts. Exactly where she belonged.

I can’t do that to her.

What kind of sick fuck would do that? The interview was Kassie’s next step to settling down in Florida. If I really, really loved her—and there was nothing else the feeling could be—I’d be happy for her. I needed to be happy for her. Instead of hollow on the inside.

Kassie murmured something unintelligible and sighed softly.

My heart thudded in my chest.

What if I lose her?

Against every good idea, my eyes flickered back to that shitty piece of thousand-dollar plastic, sitting on my nightstand, with the most ominous percentages known to man.

Kassie didn’t have to forget the appointment. I just didn’t have to be the one to remind her.

If she remembered it, good. She would remember and have the phone call and I’d help her pack and take her there myself and fly her out every weekend and fuck her in her new bed.

But if she didn’t remember…

Gently, I pulled away from her and tucked her in, bringing the blankets up to her chin. I didn’t have to do it. I could get back into bed with her and forget all about it and spike up my blood pressure with long term relationships statistics until she graduated.

Instead, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and closed the bedroom door, hiding the call in the living room.

The phone rang three times before a bleary voice answered.

"What? Hello?"

"Hey, Cleo," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Don’t do this.

"Who is it?" Miles demanded through the phone. "Tell them to fuck off."

"Cleo, I need a favor."

There was a pause before Miles spoke. "Ryan?I swear to fucking god, you better be dead—"

"What is it, Ryan?" Cleo mumbled. "Do you know whattimeit is?"

"I need the surprise today."

More silence over the line.

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