The Relationship Pact(80)



“And you have me. And if you decide you don’t want me, I’ll come and show you that I’m not going anywhere. I choose you, baby.”

I grin. “I choose you, too. Every time, beautiful girl. Eevery time. No matter what.”

She spins around in my arms and faces me. “What do we do about you going back to school?”

I groan, wondering why the world has to constantly throw speed bumps in my way.

“I have an idea,” she says.

“Shoot, Shooter.”

“I have a semester left too. And Braxton is not that far from here. What? Three hours?”

“Yeah. About that.”

She plays with the buttons on my shirt. “So we both finish our degrees because that’s important. And we make a deal that we see each other at least every two weeks. Whoever can travel the easiest, that’s the person who goes. But it’s non-negotiable.”

“Can I come every weekend if I can? I don’t think I have classes on Monday or Friday. I could probably swing a lot of long weekends either way.”

Her face brightens. “Perfect.”

A grin toys against my lips. “Let’s see how this goes. Let’s be open to change. But whatever happens, we stick together. We’re teammates.”

“How about family? Teammates make me think of sweaty socks and stinky shoes.”

I laugh, pressing my lips against her forehead.

We’ll be family someday. For real. I promise you.

“Now,” she says, looking up at me warily, “I have something to tell you, and you can’t get mad.”

“What? What did you do?”

My brows pull together as I wonder what in the world she could’ve done in twenty-four hours to make me that mad.

She bites her lip. “Promise you won’t be mad first.”

“Do you want me to lie to you? Because if you say the name Sebastian or some dumb shit like that, I promise nothing.”

She giggles. “It’s nothing like that. I promise.”

I consider this. “I promise, but I include an addendum that if I do get mad that it will be in response to whatever you’ve done. Same scale.”

“I accept.”

“Now, what is it?”

She makes a face. “I found a poem you wrote the night you stayed and then left before I woke up. It might be a poem or lyrics or just thoughts that seem to kind of flow …”

I remember writing that. It was about watching her sleep and how it felt like the purest, sweetest moment I’d ever felt. It was just a bunch of thoughts that kind of rambled and I couldn’t sleep.

I just forgot to take it.

“It was under my chair,” she says. “And I gave it to Coy. Well, I didn’t give it to him. I took a screenshot and sent it to him.”

She bites her teeth together and waits for my reaction.

I feel a bit violated that my thoughts were shared outside of me, but I’m the one who forgot to take it with me. And I know, without a doubt, that she meant well.

“Okay,” I say. “I’m not mad. I’m not thrilled, but I’m not mad.”

She squeals. “Good, because Coy wants you to call him. He wants to buy it from you, but there are contracts and stuff that you’ll have to sign because he wants to record it—”

“What?”

My eyes about fall out of my head.

“I know, right?” She beams. “You are so talented. Coy thinks so too. He will be home in a few days again—something happened, I don’t know—and he wants to sit down with you and talk to you about maybe actually writing some stuff for him.”

I don’t know what to say. I just stand there like an idiot and wonder if it’s a dream. Because it feels like it.

“See what happens when you don’t block your blessings?” she asks. “Good things happen.”

I pull her to me and kiss her again.

Good things happen, indeed.





Epilogue #2





Three months later …



Hollis



Me: My abs are a little worse for the wear, but they still look better than yours.



It takes a minute before my texts blow up.



River: For the love of God.

Crew: Do you just sit around and think about your abs?

Me: Sometimes. Don’t you?

Crew: Never.

River: Honestly? Yeah. Sometimes. But I don’t think about texting you about it.

Me: How are the audiobooks coming?

River: Oh, I have more genius to share. Call me later. This time, it’s about fish.

Crew: Why do I feel like I missed something?

Me: Consider yourself lucky, Hollywood.

Crew: Done.



Larissa lies asleep next to me. She brought new sheets and blankets to the house, and I think she used Lysol on everything before she touched it. But, hey—whatever it takes to get her to visit me on the weekends that I can’t get to Savannah.



Me: Having dinner with Coach next week. He wants to know my plans post-graduation. I think he’s going to offer me a job this summer working with the receivers.

Crew: Why? You can’t catch.

River: Burn!

Crew: Kidding. That’s awesome, Hollis.

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