Page 38 of The Girl He Loves

I take his hand. “I get that. But not once during that time did we talk about all the options and where that left us. I find out you’re going across the country by watching it on TV like the rest of the football world.”

“And you think that’ll happen again? Now?”

“It kinda feels like it’s already happening. And we aren’t even dating. And if we’re friends, wouldn’t you want to talk it out with me, as your friend? I get a job offer, and my friends are here immediately, helping me figure out the logistics. You’re here helping, too. But that flow doesn’t seem to be going both ways.”

He sighs. “I’m just so used to keeping everything so tight that sharing is hard.”

“I get that, But not sharing leaves people guessing. I had no idea what the plan was back then. It left me wondering what you thought of me, of us.”

He looks me in the eye. “So you dumped me.”

“I got a jump on the inevitable. Your dad was right. You had big plans, and a girlfriend wasn’t in them. I was scared, hurt, and angry, and I was determined to dump you before you dumped me.”

“My dad told you that? When?”

I look up, trying to recall the timeline. “The day after the draft. I was working at the gym. We hadn’t had a chance to talk yet. You were swamped with press things. Your dad came to the gym, and we had a conversation.”

“And that night you ended it.”

I lean into him and put my head on his shoulder. “Tell me I did the right thing?” Because it felt awful for years after.

Dax kisses my forehead. “We’ll never know. What I do know is that I wasn’t planning on ending things. But, yeah, it would have been hard for us to be long-distance. My first year was a ballbuster.”

We sit in silence for a beat.

“Having you around has been nice,” I say.

“There’s that ‘nice’ word again.” He chuckles.

“But where’s the meaning of it if we aren’t really being friends? If I weren’t a single mom and my life looked different, I’d be game for no-strings sex. You’ve got skill.”

His chest puffs out.

“But if you were to leave today, I would question the sincerity of this… whatever we’re calling it. Does that make sense? If we left it at the one night, if we really kept it no strings, then the expectations wouldn’t be there. But this feels like it’s more. You talk about friendship, and that creates a different expectation, at least for me.”

“I get it,” Dax says. Then, “Last time, a communication problem put us both on unexpected paths.”

“Me more than you,” I say.

“Funny, though. I look around at what you have and think you got the better end of the deal.”

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