Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
But at least I was trying.
I ran every morning. Then, I hit the weight room. Film came next, and by that time, we were going into practice. I focused on the team, on my players, ensuring each and every one of them was keeping a clear mind as we barreled toward the playoffs. I spent extra time after practice working with those who needed it, stuck around longer to make sure they all were passing their finals, and by the time classes ended, I was purely focused on the bowl.
We stayed on campus even after classes ended, practicing up until the day before Christmas Eve. It was only then that Coach released us for the holiday. We’d meet back here on the twenty-sixth.
And four days later, we’d fly as a team to Texas.
In a way, I was thankful for Christmas break, for getting away from the Pit for a few days and spending time with my uncles. It killed me being so close to Julep, right across the street, and yet feeling like she was on the other side of the world. I didn’t know which tortured me most — the late nights of not sleeping and wanting to sneak in through her window, or the long days at the stadium where I had to physically fight from looking at her.
The only silver lining was that her dad had stayed true to his word.
He had no intention of benching me and playing Russo, not when he was satisfied that I’d left Julep alone like he’d asked. It was almost like he finally found an ounce of respect for me. He started letting me take control, started leaving it in my hands to call the plays as I saw fit. He let me step up with each player before and after practice, finally allowing me to act as the captain I’d been trying to be all season.
It killed me that I had to give up Julep for him to see me in this way.
“You look like you could use a little rum in that eggnog,” my uncle Kevin said, nodding to the cup in my hands as he flopped down on the other end of the couch. The fire crackled under the mantel, stockings hung, and Nathan hummed along to “Merry Christmas Darling” by the Carpenters as he wrapped Joanne’s gifts and put them under the tree.
“I probably could, but no alcohol until after we win the championship.”
“Coach’s orders?”
“My orders.”
He smiled. “Sounds like the QB1 I know and love.”
I tried to smile in return, but it was impossible. I pulled out my phone and stared at the text I’d sent Julep.
Merry Christmas, gorgeous. I miss you.
I’d written it out and deleted it at least eight times before finally sending it, deciding I didn’t care if it was vulnerable. But now that it’d gone five hours without being answered, my stomach soured every time I glanced at the words.
I had no idea where her head was at or how she was feeling.
But something told me she was letting go.
“Staring at the text won’t make her answer.”
I sighed heavily, tossing my phone face down on the cushion between us. “I know.”
“I’m sure she’s thinking about you, too.”
“Glad one of us is.”
He nudged my knee with his fist. “Come on. That girl is just as crazy about you as you are her and you know it.”
“I thought so, but… I don’t know. She hasn’t talked to me, not once, not even a single text since that night.”
“She asked for space.”
“And I’m giving it to her.”
Uncle Kevin arched a brow.
“Mostly.” I bristled. “All things considered, I think my willpower has been remarkable.”
He chuckled then, sipping his hot cocoa and licking the leftover marshmallow it left on his top lip. “Just focus on the game, okay? On your team. That’s what she would want.”
“I am.”
“And let her focus on her family.”
I sighed, nodding. “I’m trying.”
Uncle Kevin patted my leg, then moved down to the floor with Nathan to fix a bow he’d tied. Apparently, it wasn’t good enough, and he eyeballed Kevin as he fixed it — though not like he was annoyed. More like he thought it was adorable, like he knew his spouse well enough to know he’d be going behind his back fixing bows for the rest of their lives.
My chest ached because I could picture something similar with Julep.
Was I insane? It felt that way. It felt as if I was a madman. How was it possible that this time last year, the only thing on my mind, in my heart, was football? The only thing I could dream about was winning the championship and getting drafted into the NFL?
Now, every waking thought and every sleepless night was wrapped up in her.
The day after Christmas, I showed up bright and early for practice, and I wasn’t the only one. Half the team was already there, and all of us felt the approaching bowl game like an earthquake rumbling in our bones.