Page 86 of Fumbling for Perfection

I’ll settle for now, knowing it’s one step in the right direction. All I have to do is woo her with my charm and personality, remind her what she’s missing, and she’ll want more.

Unless I’m on the turf and have a ball trapped between my arm and my ribs, taking it slow is how I roll.

But slow is not what I feel when I’m with Riley.

Even though I’ve been to her apartment before, she gives me directions. I’m sure it has more to do with the need for mindless conversation than anything. When I pull into her back lot, I turn off the engine and release my seatbelt.

“You don’t have to get out. It’s late. I’m sure you’re exhausted after your game.”

“It’s not even nine, but I’d walk you to your door even if it was late and I was exhausted.” I jump out of my SUV before she can protest and help her out of her seat.

I don’t press my luck by trying to reach for her hand but I do follow her around the side of the building and wait until she unlocks the security door.

She doesn’t say anything when I follow her up the stairs to another short hallway. There are two doors on the right and two on the left. She stops in front of the second door on the right, and I stand behind her with my hands in my pockets as she unlocks it.

Riley opens the door and turns to me in the entryway. I can see the turmoil in her eyes. She wants to invite me in but she doesn’t want to give me the wrong impression. She’s scared. Not of me, but of what’s happened between us and what will inevitably happen again.

In my mind, it’s all good, but I can see she’s worried the inevitable isn’t a happy ending.

I slide my hand out of my pocket and slowly reach toward her, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. She tenses at first, then relaxes her shoulders when I don’t do anything else.

“Thank you for coming out to the game this afternoon. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to see my brother and you in the stands.” I drop my hand and let it hang by my side.

Her eyes crinkle and she smiles tenderly. “We had a lot of fun. Jackson is proud of you.”

I’d rather hear howshefeels about me, but I’ll take what I can get.

“Thank you for bringing him back into my life. He told me how you’ve encouraged him to reach out. He wouldn’t be in my life if it wasn’t for your influence.”

“You two would have found your way back to each other.”

“Maybe eventually, but not today. Anyway, thank you. Sleep well, Riley.” I take a step back and my heart flutters when her smile drops.

Progress.

I resist the urge to look over my shoulder as I walk away. And when I don’t hear her door close until I’m at the bottom of the stairwell, I grin.

Slow playing I can do, as long as Riley is willing to play with me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

RILEY

Two weeks. Other than on TV, it’s been two long weeks since I’ve seen Walker. It doesn’t help that he had an away game last week and another tonight. Like last Sunday, I’m at Jackson and Taylor’s penthouse with pizza, wings, chips, and wine, as we yell at the refs and the screen.

It’s hilarious to hear Jackson get so worked up. He doesn’t have a clue what any of the calls mean and has just learned about downs. It took nearly the entire third quarter to explain to him why the Revolutions would kick it away on a fourth and twelve. With three minutes left in the game, the first of the regular season, and in Miami with the score tied, the tension is thick.

Not only in humid Miami, but in the air-conditioned penthouse.

“Give the fucking ball to Bankes,” Taylor yells when Anderson and the offense gets in formation. “Stop trying to throw touchdowns, you rook.”

Jackson squeezes Taylor’s thigh. “Isn’t he sexy when he talks neanderthal?”

I’d laugh if I wasn’t so worked up over the game. I return my attention to the screen and focus on number thirty-three.

The center hikes the ball to Anderson, and he doesn’t throw it, but he doesn’t pass it off to Walker either. He sweeps the ball to Drake Cannon, who is stopped at the line of scrimmage.

“Son of a bitch.” I pound my fist on the arm of the couch. “Is Hayestryingto lose the game?”

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