First Down (Beyond the Play, #1)(82)

“I love you too.” I breathe in the smell of her perfume. A million memories rush through my mind; a movie of my childhood, the good parts. I’m not naive, I know if she’s serious about this, she has a lot of work ahead of her, but the fact she’s doing it at all is enough to rock my world. “Thank you.”





The gallery hours have just begun when I see James walk through the door… along with his entire family, Izzy included. Sandra I was expecting, but Richard? With a bouquet of flowers in his arms? He gives me a nod, and I nod back.

Oh boy.

I refocus on Donald Marks, the head of the visual arts department, who came over right away to congratulate me in person, but the urge to run over and tell James the news is almost overwhelming. I want to tackle him and kiss him right against the wall, but I’m sure that wouldn’t be considered appropriate fancy art gallery behavior.

“He’s an excellent contact to have,” he continues, gesturing across the room. “I’ll introduce you two later so you can talk more in depth about this. Are you considering a future in sports photography specifically?”

“Maybe,” I say, and the best part is, I’m not lying at all. I could do that—or I could do anything in the world. For the first time since I was a little kid, the whole world is open to me; I don’t have promises to worry about breaking. I’m free. “I really love the atmosphere of sporting events.”

“That’s important.” He smiles, breaking eye contact to look over my photography again. “Truly excellent work. I’m sorry that we didn’t have you in our department.”

“I’m starting to realize what I really want.”

He nods. “I’m glad, Ms. Wood. Do stay in touch.”

The moment he wanders away, Izzy darts over to me, James on her heels. She has a cup of wine in her hand, which James deftly takes away before she can gulp it down.

“Hey,” she protests, crossing her arms over her lilac velvet dress. “No fair.”

He hands the wine to me instead. “After the stunt you pulled at that party last weekend? You’re lucky Mom and Dad let you out of the house.”

I take a sip, but I don’t taste it. I’m practically vibrating with excitement. “Hey.”

He kisses me quickly. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s actually kind of amazing.” I reach out and take his hand. “I have to talk to you.”

Izzy looks between us, raising one dark eyebrow. “That sounds ominous.”

“Why don’t you go bother Coop,” James says dryly. “It looks like he’s trying to chat up that poor girl over there.”

Izzy looks over her shoulder. Cooper is leaning right next to a beautiful watercolor, gesturing with his wine cup as he talks to a young woman. She doesn’t seem that interested anyway, but I have a feeling Cooper is about to strike out thanks to Hurricane Izzy.

“I’ll bet I can make her think he has an STD,” she declares.

“Wait,” says James, but she’s already striding across the room. He sighs, turning to me. “You look beautiful, by the way. Who are the flowers from?”

“My mother.”

“That’s sweet. My parents have a bouquet for you too.”

“She’s over there… talking to your mom,” I say as I realize what I’m seeing. “Oh God. She works fast.”

James glances over. “I think that was my mom, actually,” he says. “She’s been dying to meet her. But what’s up?”

“My mom talked to me before the show started. She’s selling the diner.”

He pulls me into a hug so quickly I nearly spill the wine on the floor. “No fucking way!”

“Yes!” I hug him back, unable to keep myself from laughing. We probably look ridiculous, but right now, I don’t care. The whole gallery could stare, and I wouldn’t give a shit. All that matters right now is him. “Yes. She’s selling it.”

His grip on me tightens. “Princess. Please tell me that means what I think it means.”

I pull back far enough to kiss him. Even in heels, I’m up on my toes, cupping his neck with my hand. I look into his ocean eyes, and I see a million possibilities. A future we can share. I see love and desire and everything I thought I couldn’t have, in between shades of blue.

“Yes,” I murmur against his mouth. I grin, feeling him smile in turn. “Wherever you go, I’m following.”





48





JAMES





EPILOGUE





April, Two Months Later


Bex kisses me again, panting softly against my mouth. “Wait, baby. Wait. When does the show start again?”

I keep fingering her, scissoring the two fingers inside her as I slip my thumb against her clit. She gasps, her next protests lost. She’s right, we need to get back to the waiting area—the producer who came by before we slipped away warned us that it was almost time for the televised portion of the draft—but I can’t help myself. I want her to come, I want us to be the only ones in the whole crowd who know what we just did. My family is probably wondering where we are, but whatever. They can wait.

What matters right now is making my girlfriend feel good.