Page 49 of The Wrong Quarterback

“What happened?” I asked quietly, thinking of her hand trembling during our tutoring session. Was that what she’d been talking about?

Her eyes flicked to mine, searching for something. But then, slowly, she turned back to the piano, her fingers hovering above the keys. She pressed down gently, and her left hand movedeffortlessly. But her right hand…it shook, the notes coming out stilted, off-rhythm. She flinched, her fingers locking up as the shaking got worse.

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I sat down and reached out, placing my hand gently on top of hers. “Let me help you,” I told her. She stiffened for a second, her breath catching in her throat, but she didn’t pull away. She moved her fingers, and every time the trembling started, I would press her fingers down against the keys, steadying her, until the tension in her hand slipped away.

“Keep going,” I whispered, my voice low.

She let me help her, her body relaxing long enough that we were moving as one. The music was slow, soft, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. It was just us.

After a minute, she stopped, her breath coming out shaky, her eyes meeting mine.

Fuck. She was unreal.

Her starry eyes.

Her perfect pink lips.

I needed her.

There was something in her gaze, like I’d unlocked something inside of her, and she didn’t know what to do with herself now.

Leave it all to me,I wanted to tell her.

I’ll take care of everything.

I slowly moved my hand to her cheek, trying not to make any sudden movements that made her skitter and run.

Her skin was so fucking soft.

I softly stroked her cheek, savoring the gasp that slipped from her mouth.

Before she could move away, I leaned in…and kissed her cheek as she quickly turned her head.

Sighing against her skin, I couldn’t help myself. “I know you feel this. Like something has happened to my fucking soul. LikeI can’t breathe without you anymore. Tell me it’s not just me that’s gone crazy. Tell me you’re right there with me,” I begged roughly.

Tangling my hands in her hair, I gently turned her head so she had to face me.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” she whispered, pulling from my touch and practically sprinting from the room.

I stared at the book bag she’d left on the floor feeling strangely…invigorated. The idea of us had become a concrete thing in my mind. I could already see it, what our future would be like, how we were going to be so incredibly happy.

I’d be there for her, in whatever way she needed me.

I could tell she thought she was broken.

But I’d help change her mind about that.

Get ready, baby. I’m coming for you.

CHAPTER 12

CASEY

The sky was gray and heavy, like it was about to downpour. I walked up the small hill, my boots crunching against the dead leaves and dried grass. Mama had picked this place because it overlooked a lake, and Ben had always spent most of his summers out in the water.

At first I’d come here every day after we’d buried him. I’d sit by his grave and talk. About nothing. About everything. The words would just come out.

After a while, though, the visits turned weekly…and then monthly. And then finally, I hadn’t come here at all.

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