Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Briar is smiling at me, her eyes filled with some combination of happiness and respect. “You said we, not them. You, my friend, are a fixer.” She bestows the label upon me like she’s figured out my deepest, darkest secret, as though I hide that I’m a mostly decent guy and not a shitstain on society.
I shrug, my passionate speech feeling a bit overzealous now. “Not everyone has what I’ve had—good family, good team, good teammates. It’s hard to want something you don’t know exists. But if they see how it could be, maybe they’ll want it for themselves too.”
“You need a team-building exercise for your team,” she suggests, clapping her hands and nearly stabbing herself with her fork in the process. “Oops!” She sets the fork down in favor of the much safer glass of soda, which she grips with two hands in giddy excitement.
Inspired by her enthusiasm, I point a finger at her. “Exactly!”
“I might have an idea. But my dad isn’t going to like it.” She dances in her seat like she can’t contain the happy wiggles. Like she doesn’t even try, which is downright adorable.
“Honestly, whatever it is, that makes me like it more. Your dad really is kind of an asshole.” I know she agrees with that sentiment, but I still watch for any flinch. I can say all sorts of things about my own family, but if someone else said one sideways word about my parents or sister, I’d annihilate them before they could finish the last syllable. I protect what’s mine, and knowing if Briar feels the same way about her father, despite their messy history, is important given what I’m planning.
She doesn’t react in the slightest. Unless you count a sparkle in her eyes. “Neither are the guys,” she says, glossing right over the paternal insult.
The warning makes me chuckle. “Even better.”
Our eyes lock, both of us grinning like idiots. Not that Briar is an idiot, but the grin on her face is huge and joy filled, and I feel like we’re conspiring to steal the Declaration of Independence or some other wild adventure.
A coup of sorts. The idea sounds fun.
I like this. Like her. There’s this pure lightness filling up my chest, even in this dark time. It’s her . . . she’s the light.
“Will you come to the season opener?” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. I don’t regret them at all, but I probably should’ve built up to them a bit smoother. Clearing my throat, I clarify, “You and Harley, I mean. I got tickets for you.”
“You want us to come to the game?” Her expression softens, like she’s surprised I thought of them for something so important.
I shake my head. “I want you to come watch me play.” The difference is slight but significant. I don’t want them there as Coach Boothe’s family. I want them to come as my guests, for me.
Briar swallows thickly, her voice taking on a shaky uncertainty as she says, “Harley would love that.”
“And you?” I’m pushing, being clear about my intentions. It can still be as friends if that’s what she needs, but I don’t want to pretend that I’m not affected by her, when I am. She deserves honesty, complete and raw.
And the truth is . . . I want to be a lot more than Briar’s friend.
The same way I want to help my new teammates realize that this isn’t how it has to be, I want to show Briar that not all men are like her dad and Tyler. That some men, me especially, recognize the value in having a partnership built on communication, support, and attraction. That I’m willing to sit with her, for however long it takes for her to feel comfortable, outside the walls she’s been forced to put up for her own safety and sanity. And maybe, as I learn how to seep through the cracks in her walls, I can seal them over, like that fancy Japanese stuff Penny showed me once, where they fill the breaks with gold, not to hide them but to celebrate that the trauma she’s been through made her into the strong, beautiful woman across from me. Tyler’s manipulations didn’t steal away her light, they made her shine that much more brightly in the dark he tried to surround her with.
Slowly, I reach across the table until the tips of my fingers are touching the tips of hers. It’s the barest of connections, but I feel it through my entire body like a small electrical current, from my tingling fingertips to my growing cock.
I watch closely as her eyes jerk to our hands, staring at them in surprise as though they’re not ours. She moves her fingers slightly, not away, but rather touching me in return. I stop breathing, afraid to break whatever spell is being woven around us.