Page 41 of Sneaking Around with the Player
“Absolutely.”
He sprinkles some into each of our mugs, then pops a few extra into his mouth. We sit shoulder to shoulder, sipping our drinks and staring out into the dark horizon dotted with lights.
“This is nice.” I lean into him and let my head rest on his shoulder.
“Yeah.” He sets his mug down and then shifts, so he’s sitting behind me. My back rests against his front and my head is tucked under his chin.
I’m not sure I’ve ever been more content in my life. Sitting here with Beau feels like enough in a way I can’t describe.
When we finish the hot chocolate, he turns on music and we talk about school, our friends, and college. We talk about everything until the only topic left is the one we’ve been avoiding.
“I saw Felix on my way out of the house tonight.” I drop my gaze, not quite able to look him in the eye. I really thought he’d come around by now and each day he doesn’t, it gets harder.
He gives me a small, apologetic smile. “I hate that I’m making things tense between you and him. I know how close you are.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit. “I thought all he needed was time to get used to us being together. What if he never does?” The thought makes me nauseous.
“Maybe I should talk to him?” Beau offers.
“And say what?”
His chuckle is quiet and rough. “Yeah, good point. I don’t know. I’ve been thinking, though, about what you said last night and about Felix, Garrison, that game, all of it.”
I turn to face him.
“My playing football is everything to my family. It’s three generations of hopes and dreams all looking to me to do the thing they couldn’t or didn’t get a chance to do. I know I’m not responsible for living up to that, but some part of me wants to,you know? It drives me, and maybe on occasion, it’s made me sloppy and reckless, but I wasn’t trying to take out Garrison.”
“I know.” I cup his cheek. “You’re a good guy.”
“Thanks,” he says softly.
“I haven’t met your family, but I doubt they know how their actions are impacting you.”
His jaw works back and forth. He’s told me his family isn’t big on talking, and I can see that now in the way he seems set to bury this and continue to let it eat at him.
“Are you planning on playing in the NFL?”
“I don’t know,” he says.
“I’m sure your family will want that, so you should probably just plan on it. Oh, and maybe you could be a broadcaster when you retire or even coach.”
His brows tug together.
“My point is if you keep making decisions based on other people’s happiness, you’re going to end up with a life you don’t want. And that’s dumb. I hear we only get one of these.”
A little of the tension eases in his features. “Okay, wiseass.”
“I am very wise,” I chirp. “You have to talk to them. Soon.”
He nods his agreement. “What are you going to do after college?”
“I haven’t planned that far ahead. Right now, I have my eye on a gold medal.”
“Yeah?” One side of his mouth quirks up. “I knew it.”
I get butterflies in my stomach just thinking about the possibility.
“My girlfriend is a total badass.”
