First Down (Beyond the Play, #1)(79)

“What contest?”

“I entered a photography contest, and I won.” My voice wobbles; I’m on the verge of tears, but at least they’re happy ones. “They said they loved my range and skillset.”

Mom pulls me into a hug. “Oh, sweetie. That’s wonderful.”

“I won a prize, and I might win a bigger one.” I pull back, adjusting my apron. “I was thinking we can use it to buy more furniture for the apartment.”

Mom shakes her head. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Nicole and Brian are going to help us. They have some stuff they wanted to get rid of anyway, and Nicole knows someone who refurbishes furniture who would be willing to give us a few pieces at a discount. Keep the money and use it for tuition.”

“You’re sure?”

She cups my cheek, rubbing her thumb over my skin. “It’s the least I can do. I know it’s not much, to make up for what happened, but…”

“No, that’s perfect.”

“Bex?” Christina pokes her head into the pantry. “There’s another boy here to see you. Not the same as last time.” She winks. “I think this one is the football player.”

My heart drops down to my belly. I have no idea if I’m ready for this conversation, but it’s not like I can ignore him, either. He knows where to find me. I push past my mother and walk back out into the dining area, stepping around the counter. James is waiting near the door, taking off a cap; his ears and cheeks are bright red from the cold. He looks around the room, and when he spots me, his whole face transforms, his smile a mixture of relief and happiness.

“Bex,” he says, “can we talk?”





46





JAMES





I hadn’t imagined having this conversation out in the cold, but Bex bundles herself in her coat and leads the way out back, and I don’t argue. At least she hasn’t kicked me to the curb. I was afraid that would happen, since I got in touch with her even though she’s the one who said she wanted space.

She crosses her arms over her chest, shivering slightly. I take my cap and stick it on her head. It’s flurrying lightly, adding to the snow that’s been on the ground since last month.

“James,” she says. “Your ears look frozen.”

“I’ll live.” I pat my chest before sticking my hands into my jacket pockets. The photograph is still tucked against my chest. Good. “How have you been?”

“Shitty,” she admits.

“Same.”

She gives me a half-smile. “I won that photography contest, though. My work is going to be in a gallery in the West Village.”

My mouth drops open. “That’s incredible!”

She bites her lip, probably to keep her smile from getting any bigger. “Yeah. It’s really awesome. I just found out before you got here, actually.”

I desperately want to pull her into a hug and kiss her silly, but I hold back. As much as I’d rather avoid it, we do need to talk. I can’t make her change her mind about thinking she’s not right for me, but I want to do my best to try and nudge her in the right direction.

“I’m so happy for you.” I can’t help reaching out to clap my hand over the cap on her head, relieved when that makes her laugh a little.

“James.”

“I forgot how short you are.”

“Fun-size,” she says.

I try to swallow. “Yeah. That’s you, baby.”

The amusement bleeds away from her expression. “I’m going to report Darryl.”

“Good.”

She takes in a deep breath, hugging her arms around herself. “Did you hear anything yet? Are you getting suspended?”

“I don’t know. Coach vouched for me. Told them I didn’t start the fight.”

It’s her turn to say, “Good.”

We stand there for a moment, looking at each other. It’s never been awkward between us; even when we didn’t know each other very well, the conversation flowed, so I’m taken aback by the tension in the air.

“I love you,” I can’t help but say.

“I love you too,” she whispers.

“I’m so sorry my dad made you feel like you couldn’t tell me what happened.” I take in a deep breath. Since the talk with my mom, I’ve been a little calmer about the whole thing, but I haven’t tried talking to my dad again yet, and I’m not sure when that will happen. Getting Bex back comes first. “I want you to know that I’m always going to choose you.”

Her expression shutters. “James.”

“I know it’s going to be hard,” I continue. “I know I need to prioritize things better. I know that when I’m on the field, I need to focus on it completely—but when I’m off the field? When I’m with you? I’m choosing you, no matter what.”

She looks up at me, her cheeks ruddy, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I love you, Bex. I love the way you scrunch up your nose when you’re concentrating. I love your laughter. Your talent with a camera. I love your passion and your loyalty and how fucking smart you are. You’re everything to me. If you asked me to stop playing football, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”