Page 143 of The Rookie

I slide into my seat, trying to ignore the way my chest tightens when Avery glances at me, her eyes catching mine for just a second too long.

"Perfect timing, little brother," Cassie says, holding up three shot glasses as the server sets down a bottle of top-shelf tequila. "We’re doing a toast."

I raise an eyebrow, leaning back in my chair. "A toast to what?"

Cassie rolls her eyes. "To Avery’s future, obviously. You know, because she’s amazing and going to crush her Fulbright interview."

Avery groans, covering her face. "Cass, stop."

"What? It’s true." Cassie shoves a shot glass toward me, her eyes sparkling. "Right, Griffin?"

I glance at Avery, watching as she fiddles with the edge of her napkin, her cheeks faintly pink.

"Right," I say quietly, picking up the glass. "To Avery."

Avery’s head snaps up, her eyes meeting mine, something unspoken passing between us.

Cassie lifts her glass, oblivious to the tension. "To Avery’s future!"

We clink glasses, the sound sharp against the buzz of the rooftop bar.

Avery throws back her shot like a pro, her throat working as she swallows, and I can’t help but stare.

I follow suit, the tequila burning its way down, warm and sharp.

Avery exhales, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "Thanks, guys."

"Don’t thank us yet," Cassie says, grinning. "We’re just getting started. Right, Griffin?"

I smirk, leaning back in my chair, the heat from the tequila mingling with the heat of her gaze still lingering on mine.

"Oh, we’re just getting started," I murmur, my eyes never leaving Avery’s.

When I get back to my room, buzzed as hell, the emptiness hits me like a punch to the gut.

The bed is untouched, the air is still, and for the first time all week, there’s no trace of Avery.

No quiet hum of her voice, no scent of her perfume, no stolen glances or soft touches or teasing smirks.

Just silence.

I drop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, the fan spinning lazily above me.

And I can’t sleep.

No matter how much I try to shut it all off—her laugh, her smile, the way she made me feel like I could be more than just the cocky asshole everyone expects me to be—it’s all I can think about.

Talented as I am at football, and as cocky as I can be, I know one thing for damn sure:

I might not be the smartest fucking guy in the world, but I know what I want out of this life.

And that is Avery fucking Sinclair.

Even if I have to play the long game.

Even if it means waiting.

Even if it means watching her live her dreams from afar, cheering her on from the sidelines.

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