Chapter 37
Emma stares at me apprehensively, her eyelids slightly narrowed as if she doesn’t quite believe me that her making videos isn’t a big deal. I don’t know why it’d shock her. What she posts on the internet—especially when she never once mentions my name—has nothing to do with me. If part of finding herself this summer is doing it with millions of people witnessing it, then that’s her journey and not really my business.
“Will you stop worrying about this? I don’t care. Peyton doesn’t care. Continue on with what makes you feel good the way you have been.” I reach out and pull Emma’s bottom lip from between her teeth. Even after I do it, she goes right back to chewing it anxiously.
I roll my eyes, deciding to pull her body against mine. I’ve never been one that gets the best sleep. I’ve had many trainers over the years lecture me on how essential sleep is to recovery and that I need to do more to rest better at night, but nothing ever really worked. I just got used to functioning on little rest. But I’m scared to admit how great I slept last night with her in my arms. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so at peace, and I definitely can’t think of the last time I woke up feeling so well rested. And it’s all because of the woman I’ve pulled to my chest, who watches me with a careful expression.
“Peyton’s probably wondering why you’re with someone who is such a mess.”
I sigh. “Stop calling yourself a mess.”
“But I am a mess.”
“You’re young. You aren’t supposed to have your life together yet. At least you aren’t pushing forty, about to go into your last year of the only job you’ve ever known and have no idea if it’ll be the worst or best decision you’ve ever made.”
She folds her hands over my chest and places her chin on top of them. My arm snakes around her waist, my hand pressing to her back as I wait for her response. If she can feel my heart rate increase with my honesty, she doesn’t say anything about it.
“Which one do you think it’ll be?”
“Like I said. Although I haven’t formally let the team or my agent know that I won’t be signing another contract, this next season will be my last one.”
Emma nods. “I know that. I meant, do you think leaving football will be the worst decision or the best one?”
Her question surprises me a bit. I figured she’d ask me why I wanted to be done with football or if I was actually sure in my decision. What I didn’t expect was for her to ask me something that seems to have an obvious answer. “If I thought it’d be bad for me, do you really think I’d be choosing to quit?”
Emma shifts her body until she lies fully on top of me. Her feet kick in the air as she gets comfortable lying across my torso. “First, don’t use the word quit. It takes away from the years—well, actually, I guess at your age, decades—you spent dedicated to the sport.” She winks at me, probably trying to soften the blow of the age comment.
“Did you just call me old, rebel?”
She raises her eyebrows and purses her lips. “Never once did I use the word old. And don’t try changing the subject. There’s a difference between quitting and knowing when it’s time to move on. And if you feel like it’s time to move on, then you already know the decision could never be the worst thing for you.”
I stare at her for a moment as I wonder how the universe works. What had to happen for her to scale that fence at the exact time I’d stepped out to take a break? Were we meant to meet no matter what? If I’d been five minutes later going outside, would our paths still have crossed somehow?
I’d like to think so. I can’t imagine a universe where Emma Turner wasn’t meant to crash into my life. I refuse to accept that even if she hadn’t decided to sneak into Peyton’s party or I hadn’t needed some air, that we wouldn’t have met some other way.
What I’m confident in is that she’s doing things to me no one else has done before. She’s making me feel things I’ve never felt. And it’s terrifying because she made it very clear she wasn’t looking for anything outside of this week. I didn’t think I’d want anything after either, but now I feel empty at the thought of never seeing her again after this weekend.
Emma scrunches her nose, lifting her head slightly so she can better look at me. “Was that last part too much? Did it sound a little too much like a life coach?”
I laugh, the deep rumble of my chest bouncing her up and down from where she lies on me. “No. What you said was perfect. I haven’t told many people about wanting to retire, so your response to it just wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“And what were you expecting?”
“For you to tell me I should give it a couple more years. That I’m just disappointed after losing the Super Bowl last year and I just need to get some more wins under my belt again.”
“Is this the right time to tell you I know nothing about football? I had no idea you made it to the Super Bowl or that you lost. Super Bowls for me have always been about the halftime show and amazing food.”
I shake my head. I don’t know how I’ve ended up developing feelings for a woman who not only doesn’t give a shit that I play football but also has no idea about anything to do with the sport. “I’m shocked you didn’t bring up the commercials.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh my god, I forgot about the commercials. Those are for sure a main reason to watch.”
“And not the actual game going on?”
She playfully bites her lip. “I’ve already confessed to you I don’t care about the game.”
“You will next year when I’m playing in it.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I wonder if I should’ve said them or not. It isn’t the first time I’ve alluded to the fact I want her past this week. I’m waiting for her to call me out on it, for us to broach the subject of our arrangement again so I can tell her I don’t think what we previously decided on will work for me anymore.
I can’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment when she seems to gloss right over my comment. “I think you need to make the official call that this will be your last year. Stop waffling on your decision and make it. Let anyone who tries to change your mind know that it’s useless. Be confident in your choice and stick to it.”
“You make that sound so simple.”
Her hands find either side of my face. I love the feeling of her fingers brushing through the overgrown locks of my hair. She looks at me with her bright blue eyes and her beaming smile, and it’s almost painful how happy I feel in this very moment. “It is simple. You’re just making it complicated because you don’t want to disappoint people.”
I raise my eyebrows because damn…she’s spot-on. For someone who loves to mention how much of a mess she is, she really does have a grasp on others. “I think I’m done with the analyzing for the morning. Maybe we should talk more about what you want to do with your life after this summer and what makes you happy?”
I grab the back of her neck and pull her face to me, trailing my lips down her neck. She laughs against my chest, and I love the feel of it. I love the feel of her. I continue to dust kisses along her neck until I pull away to meet her eyes.
She looks between my lips and eyes. Her lips rub together before she gives me a shy smile. “Right now, what makes me happy is you. And that’s all I want to think about at the moment.”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.
When she leans in to kiss me, I let her, even though it’s at the tip of my tongue to ask her to make me part of her plans for the summer and even after that.