Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Still, I asked, “You okay?”
“Huh? Yeah.” He waved off my concern. “Just…postgame edginess. I always get like this, but I’m also beat.”
I was surprised when he sat on the bed instead of the couch. “You could have stayed in. I would have gone to you, or we didn’t have to hang out.” I joined him, leaving some space between us so we weren’t touching.
“Nah, it’s cool. I don’t like to stay in either. I’m full of contradictions. Plus, you did fly all the way out here just to watch me play.” He massaged his right knee.
“Because I like football. We went over this.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. Let me see that.”
I handed him the menu, but Darren held it out so we could both look. His nails were blunt but perfectly cut, short and clean, like he took care of them. I wasn’t sure what made me notice that, but yeah, I did.
“I think I’m gonna get the grilled chicken, vegetables, and a baked potato. Oh, double the veggies. I can order; you really don’t have to buy me dinner.” He handed me back the menu.
“I don’t mind. You did all right tonight. I guess you deserve it.”
“You always this hard to impress?”
Are you trying? Which didn’t make sense at all.
“Yes.”
“I can dig it.” He nodded. “Food, please.”
Chuckling, I put the order in, getting a burger and fries for myself. While I was calling, Darren took his cap off and leaned back on the bed. One of his arms covered his eyes, his tee riding up to show a sliver of skin, tight against muscle. I averted my gaze.
When I hung up, he peeked at me. “Hi.”
I frowned, a little confused. “Hi.”
“Did you enjoy the game?”
“I did. When you almost got sacked in the third, my heart dropped. You were on fire today, though. I don’t know how you made that throw in the fourth to Jensen. They were all over your ass.”
“No shit—about them being up on me and not my throw. They can’t stop this.” Darren rolled onto his side and propped himself on his elbow, picking at the blanket with his fingers.
“Did you always love football?” I turned sideways to face him, one foot on the floor, the other bent on the mattress.
“Yes and no. I wanted to play basketball when I was young, either that or be a teacher, but I was better with a football than a basketball, even though I’m badass with both.”
Because of course he had to throw some cockiness in there. I wondered how true it was. “You wanted to be a teacher?”
“Yeah, does that surprise you? I’m only good for sports or what?”
My stomach tumbled. I hadn’t meant that at all. The last thing I wanted was to offend him. “No, no. I wasn’t trying to imply—”
He flicked my knee. “I’m giving you shit.”
“Seriously, I don’t want you to think that. It’s just…my mom was a teacher. Both my parents came from money—old money. She didn’t have to work, and she sure as shit didn’t have to teach, but she did, and she loved it. She always said it was one of the most important jobs there was and she was honored to get to do it. So…I don’t know, I just think it’s neat that’s something you considered too.” My gaze darted away. I felt insecure all of a sudden, which made no sense. Why was I getting all weird because Darren wanted to teach and I told him what my mom used to say?
“That’s cool. Your mom sounds like she was good people. My mom’s a teacher too. She went to school when Mia and I were young. It was hard as fuck for her. My dad wasn’t around, and it was before she met Deon—he’s my stepdad, but he’s my father to me.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “She was a good person. Both my parents were.”
We were both quiet for a moment before Darren flicked my knee again. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. Your mom sounds great as well.”
“She is. She’s badass. Doesn’t let shit hold her down. She raised two kids on her own, put herself through school to follow her dreams. Mia and I are who we are because of her.”
“Your dad?”
He rolled onto his back and sighed. “Asshole. He worked as a truck driver—mad respect for people who do that job, but for him, he used it as an opportunity to have two families. We were the extra.”
My heart broke for him. I couldn’t imagine. I opened my mouth, unsure what to say, but Darren continued, “You don’t have to tell me you’re sorry for anything. I don’t have time for people like him in my life. He took care of his other family and wanted nothing to do with us until I got into the NFL. But we got Deon out of the deal. Like I said, he’s my father. He treats my mom great and loves Mia and me more than our own dad does.”