Going Long (Waiting on the Sidelines #2)(82)

“Yeah. I get to be a bridesmaid. It’s my first wedding. At least, first that I can remember,” I smiled faintly, looking down to my locked fingers in my lap.

“And Reed…he gets drafted this week, right?” she asked, as if Reed’s draft hadn’t been the center of every conversation we’d had for the last month. I just nodded softly in return, holding my breath for a few seconds before letting it out heavily, with a shrug. “What have we learned, Nolan?”

I sighed again. I know she meant well, but sometimes therapy felt a lot like nagging. “That I don’t need to waste my positive energy worrying about what ifs,” I said, internalizing my worry and masking it from her, afraid I’d be caught in my little act.

She just reached forward before she stood and patted my folded hands. “I know you still worry. It’s human, and it would be weird if you didn’t. But…you need to try to rationalize with yourself before you let it take over everything. When you recognize your anxiety, remind yourself that nothing has happened to cause it,” she said, smiling and standing to her feet in her tall black pumps, towering over me by a good six inches.

I stood and shook her hand, grabbing my bag from the floor and slinging it sideways across my body. I was reaching for her door when she gave me one more piece of advice.

“Oh, and Nolan?” she said. “Try to have a good time. You’ve earned it.”

I nodded and left, wondering if I deserved the good times she says I earned.



Buck and Rosie’s wedding was going to be late Sunday night out at Winter’s Barn. Rosie had made the food herself, prepped it, and hired a few servers to set it up on the wedding day. Everything was country-themed, with a local honky-tonk band and fiddlers for the ceremony, and open fire pits for marshmallow roasting. Sarah, Sienna and I spent the afternoon stringing lights across the barn, and throughout the porch and outdoor dancing area. I couldn’t wait to see it at night.

Buck and Reed were in Tucson for several interviews after Friday’s draft selection. Reed didn’t win the Heisman. But he was selected fourth overall by San Diego, just like Dylan had predicted months ago. I had grown to respect Dylan, though she would never be someone I’d feel comfortable calling a friend. She was smart, and a real advocate for Reed. Her father, however, was unbelievable. I was in awe watching him at Buck’s house the days before the draft, fielding call after call, and hanging up on offers he didn’t think were worthy of even listening to, only to get call-backs immediately with better terms. A lot of the selection came down to the team’s needs and how the players fell in the order. But there still was negotiating to do, especially off the books—about understood resigning agreements, certain playing time guarantees and performance bonuses. It was all kind of shady, but part of the business, I supposed.

I kept reminding myself of Dr. Ashford’s warning. Nothing to worry about until there is something to worry about. That was the gist. And I recognized my anxiety. I wore it proudly, carried it around with me. I guess knowing it was there made it more manageable, but I still felt that familiar sickness in my tummy, like trouble was looming.

Reed texted me a few times during the draft, and I recorded everything for him and Buck to see when they finally made it home. He looked so right holding up the blue and gold jersey to his chest. When I closed my eyes, it was like I’d seen him there all along. He was where he was supposed to be; he’d done it. Number 13. My number 13, at least…for now.

I was getting ready with Sienna at Sarah’s house, when I finally got his text that they’d made it home.



Hey, we just got in. Dad’s getting ready. He’s nervous. It’s funny.



The thought of Buck feeling nervous made me smile. He’d been married to a strong woman before—Millie. But Rosie was different. I felt like he had finally found his equal.



Well make sure you get him there on time!



I joked, thinking about how pissed Rosie would be if the boys showed up late.



Oh we’ll be there, Princess. Can’t wait to see you!



His words warmed my insides, and I pushed myself to soak in the now. Tonight, he couldn’t wait to see me. That was my reality, and by God I was going to enjoy it.

Sarah braided Sienna and my hair into twists and loops, wrapping it atop our heads. Sienna tackled Sarah’s since I was useless when it came to things like this. We all had these cute white shirtdresses with cowboy boots. Rosie had picked them out, saying she hated the traditional bridesmaid look that got relegated to the back of the closet as soon as the ceremony was over.

Her daughter-in-law was also joining us in the ceremony, and we spent the first hour, long before the boys arrived, taking pictures. It was a little warm outside, which made me even happier to have a light cotton dress on. I was fanning myself with one of the wedding programs when I heard the familiar rumble of Reed’s Jeep.

I stood up and shielded my eyes from the setting sun when I heard his whistle.

“Whoa,” he said, walking up to me in dark jeans with his boots and a dark gray jacket over his dress shirt. If I didn’t know he was a football player, I would have mistaken him for a bull rider. I’d never seen him dressed in his country finest, and I had to admit, it was hot as hell.

“Whoa, yourself. You look hot, Wildcat,” I teased, also reaching around him and stuffing my hands in his back pockets to cop a feel of his awesome ass. He jumped a little when I did, which made me giggle. He reached around me and dipped me backwards in his arms, dangling me dangerously close to the ground before he kissed me and pulled me back up to his body, swinging me around.