Page 137 of Lucky Shot
Olivia walks in and her eyes widen. “Wow. It’s worse than I thought.”
I sit up and look around me. My sister is glowing with her cute baby bump, even through the distressed expression currently on her face as she takes in the state of my room. Then, she looks to the TV.
“Are you watching SportsCenter?!”
I search around for the remote, which is likely buried somewhere under my clothes. “I turned on the TV and that’s what was on.”
She cocks one brow, silently calling me on my bullshit.
“Shut up.” I toss the first thing I grab, a bra.
She catches it, then holds the lacy red material up in front of her. “Pretty. Sadly, this won’t fit me.”
She tosses it back on the bed and then looks at the mess again. Her cheeks puff and she lets out a slow breath. “Are you planning to take every piece of clothing you own?”
“No.” I laugh lightly. “I did laundry when I got back, and I haven’t put it away yet.”
She reaches for Nick’s jersey. That article of clothing hasn’t been washed. I may or may not have been sleeping in it nonstop. I know it’s not possible after days of being home, but I swear I can still smell him on it.
“I think you should wear this. Pair it with some cute sneakers and then you’re good to go. You’re the new sporty Ruby Madison.”
I swipe it back from her and hold it protectively to my chest.
“Have you heard from him?” she asks, clearing a spot on the bed and sitting.
“Can I go help Grandma and Grandpa in the garden?” Greer asks before I can answer Olivia.
“Yeah. Go ahead,” Liv tells her. “But no more brownies.”
Her little face is crestfallen for only a moment before she shrugs and rushes off.
When she’s gone, Olivia starts to fold and organize the clothes around her.
I move the suitcase over and sit on the other side. My sister looks up, as I say, “Yeah. We’ve been texting.”
Her mouth quirks up at the corners. “And?”
“And…that’s it.” It’s hard to look her in the eyes. I resist squirming as discomfort vibrates through my body. I have felt every emotion possible this week. Sad. Grateful. Happy. Nervous. Excited. Scared.
So many things are happening. Molly has emailed no less than a dozen times with more meeting invites and schedule updates for the convention. The pitch I wrote for my new book hasn’t even gone out on submission officially and we have two publishers interested in making an offer. It’s all the things I was so eager for just months ago and now…it feels hollow. Like maybe for the first time, I’m realizing that it’s not enough. The job, the career, all of it. I want it, but it’s no longer the only thing I want.
“December is so far away.” It’s only been a few days. How am I going to make it that long without seeing him?
“Any chance you can see him before then?”
“Maybe. Once the tour dates are confirmed, we’re going to compare schedules.”
She looks hopeful and I want to feel that too, but I get the feeling he’s purposely holding back. Maybe he’s just being realistic about the possibility of a future between us. As in, it isn’t much of one if we only see each other twice a year.
It sucks. I miss him so much.
“Can I tell you something and you won’t think I’m dumb or naïve?” I ask her, finally glancing up.
“I would never,” she says, sounding personally affronted at the insinuation.
My heart squeezes. She’s right. Not once has she been unsupportive of even my wildest dreams. Even as kids, she would act so excited every time I let her read something I’d written. I don’t know if it was genuine or not, but it didn’t matter—it inspired me to keep going.
“I thought he might ask me to stay. I know it’s new and logistically it’s messy. We live in different states, and he’s got a lot with his job and his kid, plus caring for his dad…He can’t change the fabric of his life for me.”
