Page 101 of Our Secret Moments

“The tightening in my chest. The weight. The pressure. I need it to go away.”

“Just breathe, Connie. Let me take some of that weight. Let me help you. Just… Just let me in,” I whisper.

The second the words leave my mouth the dam breaks. His face crumbles and he starts to cry. I immediately pull his head into me, resting him on my chest, holding him close to me as I wrap my arms around him tightly. His cries are soft and weak and I just want to take them away from him. He settles into me and I let him take the time he needs to stop crying.

“It’s okay, baby,” I murmur, “I’ve got you.”

I smooth my hand through his hair, holding him as tightly as I can, knowing that will help. When his breathing starts to slow again, I try to get him to face me. I grip both my hands on the side of his cheeks, urging him to look up at me, but he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes on the space between us.

“I’m so proud of you, Connor. Do you know that?” I whisper, tears of my own threatening to fall. “You genuinely amaze me every single day. On and off the pitch. You’re kind and compassionate and you always put everyone else before yourself. Your overthinking isn’t a weakness, it just means that you care.” I swipe my thumbs under his eyes and he finally meets my gaze. “You have this thing where you make everyone else around you feel loved and that is a gift not many people have. You’re so talented and you’ve done so much for other people and younever do anything just for you. You need something just for yourself.”

“You,” he whispers.

My eyes narrow. “What?”

“Me and you. That’s just mine. The way I feel about you, Cat, is just for us. You’re the only person I want to talk to sometimes. The only person I want to know how deeply I feel about you is just you. As much as I want to tell everyone you’re mine, there’s so many moments that I want to keep just for us. Our secret.”

“Our secret,” I repeat.

I like the sound of that.

CONNOR

For the rest of the day, I stay as close to her as possible. She holds me and understands me and doesn’t try to fix my problems. She doesn’t try to lecture me, or tell me what to do. She just lets me feel my feelings and I appreciate her for it.

When Cat leaves after her dad calls her, I feel like I can breathe again.

She’s managed to calm the storm of my life so easily and I love her more than I did a few days ago, if that’s even possible. I want to tell her that I’m in love with her so badly. I want to tell her that she’s all I ever want and that the love I have for her is infinite, but it’s not right just yet. We still don’t know when we’re going to tell Nora, but after the finals seems like a perfect time.

We’ll get our happily ever after, Cat and I. We have to.

The quiet doesn’t last long because it’s well into the night when I hear the dorm door open followed by a very drunk Wes singing at the top of his lungs. I’m not surprised. Whenever he gets shit-faced, he turns into a full musical major and sings every song off theHamiltonsoundtrack at full volume. But whatis unusual is the fact that the guys vowed not to have a party tonight if they won the game.

Coach has been watching us like a hawk and he’s finally put enough fear into them that I’ve been trying to do for years and they actually listened. Well, everyone except his son.

I get up from the couch and turn on the light in the living room. “Wes?” I ask and he comes into view. He’s wearing the same training uniform he left in this morning, a beer in his hand and his hair is a sweaty mess. “Dude, what are you doing?”

He lets out a drunken laugh and when I step closer to him, his eyes are bloodshot, tears staining his cheeks. What the fuck is going on? My heartbeat grows erratic, the sound roaring in my ears.

“Wes, what is going on?” I ask again as he sways towards the kitchen.

“She’s gone, Con,” he slurs, dropping his gaze to the ground.

“Who? Who’s gone?”

He shakes his head, finally looking up at me. I’ve seen every version of Wes in my lifetime, but this one? This one is different. Broken.

“My mom… She left… She left my dad,” he says, sniffling. Jesus, how drunk is he?

“What are you talking about?”

He groans, throwing his head back. “He cheated, Con. He said he loved my mom and he’s been cheating on her for years. With Olivia.”

Anger boils in my stomach. “Olivia? Who the fuck is Olivia?”

His eyes lock with mine, and everything comes back to me. I don’t know many people called Olivia, but when he looks at me, I know exactly who he’s talking about.

Olivia Hardon. Our Assistant Coach.

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