Page 13 of Replay

I tuck my phone in my pocket and head downstairs. I can feel the vibration from the bass of the hip-hop song playing in the living room under my grip on the staircase banister. Takinga steadying breath, I try to let go of my bad mood and be the easygoing QB my team needs me to be. I spot two of my roommates in the kitchen and head their way. This party isn’t the small get-together they described it as, but I kind of figured it would end up being that way. My dad has always reminded me not to let fame and glory get to my head, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy my teammate’s praises as I greet a few of the guys from our offensive line on my way to the kitchen.

“Superstar, what you drinking?” Maverick asks, opening the fridge like he’s Vanna White showing me my prize.

Graham reaches in before I can answer, grabbing me a Blue Moon that I’m sure he bought with me in mind. It was always our beer of choice in high school. I don’t drink much during the season, but tonight, I could use the taste of nostalgia.

“Thanks.” I nod at Graham, taking the bottle from him.

“Sorry, we don’t have orange slices, your highness,” Maverick taunts.

Laughing, I flip him my middle finger. “Fuck off.”

His attention goes over my shoulder, and a big smile takes over… “Amy!” he shouts and starts in that direction.

“Oh my god… Rick, don’t fucking call me that.” I hear a sultry southern voice reprimand, and I turn around to see a gorgeous redhead being swept up in Maverick’s arms.

“I feel like it's been forever, Sis.” Okay, so Amy must be short for Bellamy.

“Don’t call me that either.” She playfully swats him. “And I just saw you, like, a week ago.”

I don’t hear what’s said back because Bellamy didn’t come alone.

There she is. The piece of my heart that lives outside of my body.

My pulse quickens, and my toes tingle to move toward her. Beautiful long blonde hair, maybe even a little longer than the last time I saw a picture of her. Pouty lips covered in gloss, making me bite my own lip at the memories that flood in. My body aches for her to turn that beautiful face in my direction like she would have two years ago, seeking me out and then gracing me with her perfect smile. “She has a smile that can light up a room” was never a phrase I understood until the day I saw Berkley.

Her eyes finally land on me, but it feels nothing like how I remember. I think the biggest lineman in the league could hit me, and it would hurt less. No reaction, no emotion. Nada. Zilch. The only thing I get is her holding my gaze for a few beats longer than a glance before she turns her attention behind her.To him.

I take two steps toward them, but Graham grabs my arm. “You need to think before you do something stupid and push her even further away,” he whispers, and I stare at them, considering his words.

My attention moves from them to where Graham’s hand is wrapped around my arm, then to his face, and he continues, “Come on, let's go out back for a few. Get yourself together, and if she wants to talk to you, she will later.”

I look back, and the sight of Carter Graves’s arm slung over her makes me feel murderous, especially when he whispers something in her ear, and she smiles. The only thing that has me following Graham is that smile on her face. It's nothingcompared to the smiles she used to give me. In this moment, I don’t care how fucked up that is.

As we walk out back, I think my heart may beat right out of my chest. I try box breathing, but I’m having a hard time catching my breath. Dropping my beer, I bend over with my hands on my knees, feeling like I just had the air knocked out of me.

Nothing could have prepared me to see her in person, even more so on his arm, and with absolutely no regard for me. I don’t know what’s worse.

My anger turns inward…and the others who affected the choices I made back then. I’ve questioned myself every day since I made that life-altering decision, but today, I’m not just lying in the bed I’ve made; I’m suffocating in it.

I pick the beer up and chug what doesn’t spill out.

“Slow down,” Graham mutters from beside me.

“Put yourself in my shoes and tell me how you’d feel,” I growl.

“Yeah, well, you made your bed, Nate.” Get out of my fucking head, Graham.

“You think I don’t fucking know that.”

“I think you have to face it now, being here, seeing her. If you won’t tell me why you did it, maybe you should tell her the truth. She deserves that, and maybe it would make this shit less awkward.”

“It’s not that easy.” Even though Graham’s always suspected there was more to the story, I haven’t shared the truth with anyone but my dad. It felt wrong to talk to people about it when Berkley didn’t even know.

“Just think on it. Whether you can ever get past it all and be together or not, she deserves to know the real reason you broke up with her. She hasn’t been the same, Nate… I think she’s settling with Carter.”

My eyes narrow on him. “Of fucking course, she is.”

“Just chill. Your team is all here and riding the high from how well practice went this week. Don’t ruin that.”

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