The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football, #1)(98)

“Waiting is over,” I say breathlessly as I kiss him. “But I need a place to stay. And some clothes. And a job. Is there a bar here where I can wait tables?” A laugh comes from me. “Holy shit, I left my car. Lila has an extra set of keys at least…”

He pulls my chin to him. “We’ll get it when we can. Lila will send your stuff, and Rae has some things. You’ll stay with us. Mom will put you in a guest room that I can sneak into. She knows we had sex, by the way, so there are no qualms about that if you’re worried. She’s pretty easygoing about that stuff.”

Color floods my face.

River chuckles. “Mom wants you here, and she’s going to love you. You’ll go to the combine with me, to Baltimore, the draft, and when I move, we move together. We’ll try to talk Mom into going with us. You can get a job if you want, but just being here with my mom and me would be great. I have money. Pretty soon, a lot of it. We’ll settle and you can go to school. I can help you pay for law—”

“I can get another scholarship.”

“My smart girl.” His lips hover over mine, his eyes burning with emotion. “Fate put us together. I love you. Please. Just. Never leave me.”

My heart fills with joy, for him, for us, with hope for his mom, for our future together. I slide my hands into his hair. “I love you.”

We kiss, long and slow.

Life with him is going to be wonderful.

And it was…





Epilogue





Four years later





“Dude, you bought a Christmas sweater for Spike?” I ask Benji on a laugh. He’s sitting across from me at The Truth Is Out There with the lizard in his arms like a baby. The sweater—more of a cape—is lime green with a candy cane and a stocking on the back. How do you even find something like that?

Lila leans in over the table. “No, the real question is…why did he buy himself a matching one? Custom order from Etsy. My boyfriend is deranged.”

“Aw, you’re jealous I didn’t buy you one.” Benji gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“Like I would wear it,” she grouses, then smiles.

Benji’s eyes twinkle as he glances down at his own sweater. “Green is my color. Makes my eyes pop.”

“Question,” I say. “Does the lizard sleep with you two?”

Lila glares at me. “No.”

I burst out laughing. I bet he’s in the room though.

Benji, Lila, and Colette live together in Los Angeles. Lila waits tables and writes screenplays, Colette works at an art gallery, and Benji is in graduate school. We see them once or twice a year. This weekend is special. They’ve flown in for Anastasia’s twenty-fifth birthday surprise.

“She’s here!” Carl says as he jumps up from our table in the back and peers out the window into the parking lot. He claps his hands at us as he turns around. “Places, people, places! Get behind that corner so she can’t see us. Lila, fix that balloon—it looks wonky. Also, it needs to be said, do not pull out your weed. We’re in public. Colette, open the cupcakes so she’ll see them. June, where did you put my gift? It’s a framed picture of us.”

“I have it, don’t worry,” June says as she stands up and follows us as we move to a doorway in the back that hides us from the entrance.

June still lives in Carl’s RV and keeps an eye out for spaceships for him. She isn’t big on crowds, but her counseling has helped. Anastasia arranged that for her, found someone who’d come to her RV. When Carl asked June if she wanted to come to the bar for the surprise, she said, I’d do anything for Anastasia.

During the offseason, we fly down and hang out at Carl’s house for a couple of weeks. Then, we head out to whatever beach destination Crew and Hollis have cooked up for our annual vacay with them. Crew is still a mother hen; Hollis still says his abs are prettier than mine. They aren’t.

I glance around at the bar. I miss this place, the Sundays when I’d hang out with my brothers and watch Anastasia. We arrived yesterday, and I went to the Kappa house. I mean, I didn’t know any of the new guys, but my photos are still on the wall. They knew who I was. A good president. A footballer. Not a king or a god, but a regular guy who cared about his brothers.

After I left Braxton, I was drafted by the New York Pythons. Houston went with the wide receiver from Alabama, leaving the door open for New York, and they scooped me up in the second round. It’s a familiar franchise, and several of the staff knew my father. It feels like home, and my jersey number is number three. For Dad.

I didn’t get a big payday like a first-round pick does, but in the past few years, I’ve worked my way up to first string and adjusted my contract.

Wearing a red mini dress and tall boots, Anastasia walks into the bar, my mom next to her. Their heads are tilted close to each other as they laugh about something.

My heart stutters as I take them in. Damn. I’m a lucky man.

Mom’s clinical trial and new treatment put a pause on her cancer. She’s in remission, takes smaller doses of her medication, and gets regular checkups. Her last scans were clear. She’s still here, with us, experiencing my life with Anastasia.

Anastasia smiles, one of her soft ones, and I smile back even though she doesn’t see us yet.