Page 35 of By His Rule

“Send me the link. I don’t care how expensive they are. I’ll order them right now and get the fastest shipping possible. I’ll also email Coach and explain.”

“No, you don’t?—”

“Wilder,” I warn. “Let me handle this. You need to go back to class.”

“But—”

“Do not ‘but’ me, young man,” I chastise, pulling out my best parental voice. “I might want you to kick ass on the field, but I also want you to graduate.”

“Fine,” he says, as the sound of him moving around echoes down the line.

“I’ll let you know when they’re arriving.”

“Thank you, Lor. You’re the best sister in the world, you know that, right?”

I smile, my heart swelling.

“I love you, Wild Child.”

He groans, hating that nickname just as much as he did as a kid.

“Love you too. Speak soon,” he says before cutting the line to hopefully send me a link and then turn up to class. Late is always better than never.

It takes all of twenty seconds for my cell to ping with a link.

I’m pretty sure it takes longer for the site to open than it did to receive it, making me think Wilder was sitting there staring at the webpage as hopelessly as I was at the job ads.

“What a fucking—” My gasp of shock cuts off my muttering and my eyes widen at the price of what he’s just sent through. “How much? Jesus, it really is a good thing I love you.”

I find his size and then add them to the basket, all the while wondering how I’m going to swallow this cost.

I have savings, sure. But not enough to keep me afloat without an income for any substantial amount of time.

After putting the cleats and the stupidly expensive next-day delivery onto my credit card, I pull up Wilder’s coach’s email and send him something that I hope will pacify him. I like Coach Hardin. He’s a ballbuster, but he’s also fair. Wilder, and all the other boys, respect the hell out of him. They always have. He’s the exact male role model that Wilder needs in his life if he stands any chance of keeping his head screwed on and making something of his skills on the field.

Without second-guessing this time, I return to that waitress job and apply.

It’ll just be a stopgap while I wait for the perfect position to make itself known.

Something is better than nothing.

Abandoning my cell on the couch, I pull a blanket over me and grab the TV remote. I aimlessly scroll through the rom-com section of Netflix before I find a movie I’ve never seen before and snuggle deeper into the cushions.

It’s a dubbed movie, and it takes all of three minutes for it to irritate me, but I don’t turn it off. The guy is cute, and I figure that’s good enough to put up with the non-existent lip sync.

As the movie continues, I sink lower and lower, and eventually, my eyes drift close.

I’ve no idea how long I drift off for, because when I’m startled awake, the sun is still streaming through the windows, the movie is still playing, yet my head is fuzzy, as if I’d fallen into a deep sleep.

I stare at the TV for a beat as my heart races. It takes a second to register that my watch is vibrating with an incoming call.

Rebecca.

Rebecca?

I’m about to ignore the call when reality hits.

Rebecca from Callahan Enterprises.

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