Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I blurted out. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, obviously I do—”
He was kissing me again before I could finish my sentence. All of the feelings I’d kept locked in a box for so long were now right here. It felt like I’d been using training wheels my whole life and now, finally, for the first time, they were gone.
It was freeing. Terrifying. Like being in free-fall, but this time knowing I had a parachute.
But more than anything, I knew that it was so, so worth it. And even if there might be times when I’d get hurt, it would be okay. Because Brody wanted me. He actually wanted me, against all odds. And I knew more than anything that I could trust him.
He sighed against me, kissing the top of my hair.
"If you're not gonna go all the way, why go at all?" Brody said, a dreamy lilt to his voice.
I hummed.
“That’s one of the only quotes I know,” he said. “Joe Namath, quarterback from the New York Jets. I know it isn’t exactly Socrates, but…”
“But I love it,” I said. “I want to go all the way, Brody.”
He pulled back and looked down at me, something alight behind his eyes. “Then we will.”
16
Brody
Want to know when you’re really, really lucky?
When you decide to take a chance on something, and it pays off in a way you could never have expected. When you decide to do things differently, and you realize that you’re not going to regret it—not even for a second.
I felt like I was floating on air the moment I admitted it to Logan, and admitted it to myself, that I wanted to try for something real with him.
Every moment with him still felt like magic. How was that possible?
I had been sure of it when we were there, standing at the edge of the quad in the snow, that morning that I finally admitted the truth. But for a moment, I didn’t know if it could last. Would I wake up the next morning sure that I’d made a mistake? Or, a week later, would I regret it all, after Logan was thrust into the public eye in a way he’d never bargained for?
Thanksgiving break passed by quickly. Roman and I went to go see our mom while Logan spent time with his own family. I missed him like hell, but I sent plenty of pictures while we were apart for a few days that probably made Logan blush.
And then it was December.
A month I’d been dreading for so long, because for a long time, it had only meant one thing for me: it was going to be the last month I played organized football, maybe for the rest of my life.
The college football season always ended in December. We only had two games left, and I wanted to make them matter. Everything felt like it mattered more. My classes, studying, football, and figuring out how to not fuck things up with Logan. And when the day finally came—the last football game I’d ever play with the KMU Wolves—I woke up with my heart already feeling heavy.
I turned over in bed and saw that Logan wasn’t there. I grumbled, kicking off the covers. Logan and I had been sharing my bed every night, and so far, there wasn’t an ounce of me that regretted it. I got to hold him close like a little space heater, every single night. His smooth skin pressed up against mine, and his little happy moans when I gave him a squeeze.
I ambled out into the kitchen, smelling bacon and hearing its sizzle before I even stepped foot in there.
“You’re up,” Logan said, looking over at me from behind the stove.
He was already wearing one of my jerseys. I loved seeing him in that green, white, and gold. I walked over to him, gently putting my arms around him from behind, and I pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
I still loved that I could do this. Couldn’t believe that I could do this. That Logan accepted me, and accepted all of the bullshit that came with dating Brody Bryant.
He was fucking incredible.
“You’re making breakfast,” I said. Usually, on the weekends, I was the one who was up first, cooking up simple meals for me and Logan.
“Yeah, and it’s a good one, so I hope you’re hungry.”
“My mouth is already watering,” I said. “Oh my God, are you making French toast?”
“I sure am,” he said. “Told you it’s a good one.”
“Have I told you lately that you’re amazing?”
“Oh yeah, fresh coffee in the pot, too.”
“Scratch that. You’re not amazing. You’re incredible.”
He smiled as he flipped the bacon over, another tantalizing sizzle emanating from the pan. I poured myself a cup of coffee and went to sit at the table, watching his cute ass as he flitted around the kitchen for me.