Page 74 of Play Maker

“Lot of guys thought so.”

I mull that over a second because, not only did she say she was a virgin, I had the evidence of it on my dick. And I’ve known her, watched her for long enough, to know I’d never doubt a word she said.

“She didn’t give any but a minute of time to figure it out. She’s given you years. Took your time, Grimes.”

“Wanted things to be right.” I look out the window. “Wanted to be divorced, wanted to know where I’d be.”

“You think she’s right for you?”

“Think I’m lucky she even saw me.”

“You know where you wanna be now?” he asks.

“I do.”

“Meatloaf said it best: two out of three ain’t bad.”

Less than five minutes later, we turn down a winding gravel road that cuts through a stretch of forest I didn’t even notice the first time I came out this way. The trees are older than the ones by the road, tall enough to block out half the sky. The sun filters through in strips, lighting up frost on the tall grass.

We slow near a wooden post fence that stretches and rolls with the hills, and when the trees open up, I see it.

The house. No, not a house. A home.

I know from the room assignments when they relocated players that it’s a five-bedroom. I think they called it a modern farmhouse. It’s tucked neatly into the base of the ridge, a long front porch wrapping around it. Steel roof, big windows, warm wood beams, the kind of place that looks like it was made for Sunday dinners and barefoot kids chasing each other through the yard.

Jackson nods toward it. “We built it during the shutdown years ago, all of us.”

“It’s a lot of land?”

“Twenty acres. Right between my mom and dad’s property and my dad’s parents. That hill back there?” He points through the windshield. “That was the boundary line of their two childhood homes. Mom grew up right there on the east side. Dad grew up just over that ridge.”

He says it like it’s nothing, but I’m quiet. Because it’s everything. It’s roots, something I’ve never had and didn’t dare dream of.

Jackson pulls around the looped driveway, past a detached garage with a basketball hoop mounted above it, and parks near the back where a mudroom entrance sits lit with soft porch lights.

“Let’s go,” he says, grabbing his bag. “Dinner’s always ready.”

As we walk into the house, the scent hits me—smoke, something roasting, garlic and herbs warming the air. Laughter spills from the other room, bright and unfiltered.

When we walk into the kitchen, Jade and Ryan are dancing to some old song with the line, “I’m gonna keep on loving you, ’cause it’s the only thing I wanna do …”

Chapter14

Girl Bosses

Lo

The girls all decided we need to get together. They’re all staying over to “keep me company,” which is code for they want details. This would annoy me if I didn’t know for a fact I’d do the same damn thing. Plus … I get to talk up my guy!

Riley, Sydney, and Lily staying over, as Boone went to Hart’s, needing to be part of the play with the boys. We made a snowman with Evie and Lily, who are now best friends, and we’re getting ready to watch a movie that we’ve still not decided on.

My place smells like buttery popcorn and the cupcakes Sydney and Lily brought, and we’re almost unthawed. Riley’s curled up on the corner of the couch in one of Hart’s hoodies, her socked feet propped on the coffee table like she owns the place. Which, technically, she sort of does. Half, anyway.

Izzy and Mags are bickering in the kitchen over who made the better Spotify playlist for tonight’s “Girls Only: The Guys are Being Children” night. Spoiler: they’re both terrible. It’s a mix of angsty breakup ballads and the Barbie soundtrack.

Greer’s sitting on the floor with her legs tucked under her, folding construction paper with five-year-old precision while Evie and Lily sit at the coffee table covered in glitter glue and googly eyes. They’re making something I’ve decided not to ask too many questions about.

“Do we think Giraffe is a good name for a boyfriend?” Lily asks, holding up her drawing of what I assume is … a dinosaur?

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