Page 104 of Beautifully Conflicted

“I don’t need holding,” I protest even as I shift.

“Screw you, I’m doing this for me. That was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve been shaking for hours.” He nestles against my side, head in the crook of my shoulder and one arm draped over my waist.

“You were terrified? I’m the injured one.”

“Lucy, don’t you know by now that I feel what you feel? Everywhat-ifthat ran through your mind ran through mine, and it fuckingbrokeme. I’d give anything to be the one with my leg wrapped up instead of you.”

One of the tears I’ve been trying so hard to hold back trickles down my cheek, eventually making its way to his forehead.

Damien pops up to inspect my face. “Why are you crying?”

“Don’t look at me. And don’t youdaremake this a thing. I just know you mean that.” I tug him back down so his head is resting against my shoulder, too emotional to make eye contact as I admit, “It’s over. I’ll never get drafted now.”

“Don’t say that.” Damien tries to pop up, but I hold tight, not letting him go. He stays put as he argues, “What’d you tear? ACL? MCL? That might set you back a year, but it won’t prevent you from playing again.”

“College ball, no. I could get ACL surgery, take the next year off and retain a year of eligibility for the following year, but even before this injury I’d have been lucky to get drafted. Now, I’ll have a major injury on my medical record. Teams will be afraid that’s just the start. You know I’m right, so don’t try to pretend otherwise.”

“You are right.” He does me the courtesy of admitting the truth. “But that doesn’t make it impossible.”

“Improbable, then.”

“And you’re going to let that stop you? The Lucy I know has too much fight for that.”

His faith in me nearly has me cracking a smile. Instead, I let out a heavy breath. “Remember what we were talking about the other day? How if either of us should give up the dream to make this work it should be me?”

I feel Damien tense beside me as he hesitantly says, “Yeah.”

“Well, maybe this is the universe’s way of saying that’s what I need to do.”

This time, I can’t stop him from bolting up to look at my tear-stained face. “No. I won’t let you use me to justify leaving the game.”

“It’d be okay for you to do it and not me?”

“I was willing to do that without anything forcing my hand. You’d be doing that as a secondary choice. And before you get defensive, you should know I’m not upset about that. You’ve always put football first and I’ve never had an issue with it. If anything, I understand better than most why you’d make that choice.”

“I know, but now, I get that I was wrong. It might’ve taken this injury to make me realize it, but that doesn’t change the fact it’s true.”

“There’s nothing wrong with chasing your dreams.” He thumbs away a stray tear.

“That’s not what I’m saying. Look… I’m heartbroken about this. Going pro was all I wanted for so long, and it kills me to know that’s slipping away. But at the same time, now that going pro isn’t part of the equation, it’s like I can finally see all the things I didn’t have the capacity to think about before. And the thing I keep coming back to is how happy I’ve been these past few months. Not because of football, but because of you. I’m gonna miss the game like crazy, but I’m pretty sure I’d miss having you in my life more.”

Damien stares at me blankly for a second before shaking his head like he’s coming out of a trance. “If the past few months are the happy version of you, I’d hate to see the alternative.”

“Out of everything I just saidthat’syour takeaway?”

“I’m still processing the rest. Are you saying you want to be boyfriends instead of secret boyfriends?”

I bob my head slowly up and down. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Okay.” Damien says with a devious smile. “On one condition.”

“You have a condition?” My brows pull together.

“You don’t give up on the football dream.” Damien rests his chin on my chest and looks up at me. “Not unless it’s a medical decision instead of an emotional one.”

Hours after tearing my ACL and the guy is still my biggest supporter. Damn, I got lucky with him.

My fingers find their way to Damien’s hair so I can brush one of the stray locks away from his eyes. “I’m not making next year’s draft, and I’m not staying an extra year in college.”

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