Page 151 of Broken Ties (Rixon High 4)

She was here and she wasn’t telling me to get the fuck away from her. Which was so much more than I deserved.

“Come on.” I tugged her toward the football field, stopping dead in the center. It wasn’t as momentous as standing in the Dawson Stadium, but there was still something special about the gridiron.

“I don’t think I’ll ever not want it,” I said, releasing her hand and staring out at the bleachers.

“I feel the same about gymnastics. But no one knows what the future holds, Aaron. I’ve seen you work with the coaches. Maybe you’re not supposed to play on the field, maybe you’re supposed to coach others to.”

“You watched me?” My head twisted slightly to look at her.

“I’m always watching,” she whispered. “I saw you help Coach Macintosh. I see the way you learn your teammates’ strengths and weaknesses, how you memorize the plays.”

“That’s my job.” Emotion rippled through me.

“And you’re damn good at it.”

“It isn’t enough. I’m not enough.” The words settled deep inside me. The truth a bitter pill to swallow. But I had no choice now. I knew in my gut Iowa wasn’t going to make me an offer. Which meant I had some hard decisions to make.

“Says who?” Poppy challenged. “Some recruiter at Iowa? At Pittsburgh? Connecticut? They don’t know you like I know you, Aaron. Like your team knows you. They’re three schools. Three out of what? One hundred and thirty? More if you count Division II.”

“You make it sound like I have a line of schools all trying to recruit me.”

I didn’t.

“It’s competitive, Aaron.” She sighed, the soft sound rolling through me like a warm current thawing some of the ice frozen around my heart. “You know that. One percent. One percent of all high school football players get a scholarship.”

“I know the odds, Poppy.”

Her eyes narrowed as she let out a weary sigh. “You’re good, Aaron. Maybe not Pittsburgh good or Iowa good. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t something out there for you.”

“Come here,” I said, crooking my finger at her.

“W-what?”

“You heard me, come here.” Slowly, I closed the distance between us. Maybe it was the vodka swimming in my veins. Maybe it was the familiar scent of damp grass in the air. Or maybe it was all her… But I needed to hold her. I needed to wrap my arms around Poppy and know that this was real.

“Aaron,” she said as I reached for her. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” Her hands went to my chest, searing me to the bone.

Fuck, how did I ever think I could live without this?

Without her.

I locked my hands around her waist and started swaying us.

“Aaron, what are you doing?”

“Dancing, Poppy Star.” I lowered my mouth to her ear, relishing the shiver that ran through her. “Dancing with you at Homecoming.”

“Technically, we’re not—”

“Shh.” I pressed a finger to her lips, smirking at the irritated frown crinkling her eyes. “Dance with me, Poppy. Just… dance with me.”

A beat passed and I braced myself. But her rant never came. Poppy laid her cheek on my chest and hugged me tighter as we danced under the stars on the football field.

My best friend.

The only girl to ever get under my skin.

The girl who knew me better than anyone else.

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