Page 92 of The Trade

I graze my fingertips along his thick forearm, gently wrapping my hand around him. “Hold on a sec.”

He gives me a puzzled look. “What’s up?”

“I just ... I missed you this week.”

“I missed you, too. I’ve been thinking about you nonstop.”

My heart flutters. “You have?”

“Of course I have.” He laughs softly, a hand moving to my waist. “You’re always on my mind, Jade.”

“And you’re always on mine.”

His grip tightens around my waist as he pulls me closer, his other hand cradling my jaw. He leans in, capturing my lips in a sweet yet passionate kiss. I lose myself in him, his taste, his touch, everything about this moment feels so right.

Finally, he pulls away, a devilish grin playing on his lips. “Okay, now that’s settled, we can go inside.”

* * *

During the next ninety minutes,the banquet is a rush of tasty hors d’oeuvres, cocktails, and conversation. In between, I scribble a few quick notes, hoping it’ll be enough to flesh out my article. Still, I’m not stressing too much over it—I trust in my ability to impress Garrett, and the interviews are sure to be the heart of the story anyway.

As we move on to dinner, West and I are nestled at a round table with three other couples. Shannon and Cam, of course, are part of our little congregation, along with Danny, another housemate of theirs, and his girlfriend, Sofia. The last couple consists of Shannon’s friend Emmy and a third football player, whose name I can’t quite recall.

We’re all served a three-course dinner, which is absolutely delicious. In fact, everything about this night has been perfect so far. The entire time, I find myself showering Cam with compliments. The decor, the food, the seamless flow of events—he’s really outdone himself.

As we scrape up the last morsels from our plates, Coach Rodriguez takes the stage. “Hi, everyone,” he announces into the mic, his voice washing over the room. “Thank you all for coming out to celebrate the team. I thought we’d take advantage of everyone still being seated.”

His words stir a wave of anticipation, conversations fade into a lull as all heads turn toward the stage. After expressing gratitude to our banquet planners, Cam and Vance, he delves into a series of awards, ranging from Outstanding Leadership to Best GPA to Most Improved Player.

And as he rattles off the names, I manage to recognize about half, thanks to the handful of games I’ve attended.

And then, the “Solid Rock” awards are announced. “This award goes out to the most solid, consistent, and dependable players of each position,” Coach elaborates. The familiar names roll off his tongue—Noah Elliot, Theodore Westman-Cooke, Treyvon Johnson, Robert Graham, and Morgan Hughes.

West’s fingers tighten around mine under the table, a silent signal before he strides up to the stage to collect his award. I join the applause, my heart thumping like a proud drum in my chest.

When he returns, I lean into his side, my words whispered for his ears only. “Congrats, baby. You deserve it.”

He offers a soft “Thank you,” his hand settling comfortably on my thigh.

Once the coach concludes, the banquet comes back to life with chatter, music, and the bar’s renewed popularity. Most of our table companions scatter to grab drinks or join other groups.

“So, do you think you could introduce me to some of the other award winners?” I ask him, noting down the last few names. “I’d love to get an interview.”

“Sure,” he says, a touch of tension in his voice. “No problem.”

Concern prickles at the back of my mind. “Is everything okay?” I ask, placing my journal back in my bag. “If I’m bothering you with my work, I can put it aside for a while.”

He gently squeezes my knee. “Nothing you do bothers me, Jade.”

While that may be true, something is clearly off with him. I can see it in the way he looks at the table, shoulders drooped. “Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m just trying to get through this night.”

“Get through it?” I wrinkle my nose. “You just won an award. I figured you’d be excited.”

“No, it’s not—” He’s quiet for a moment, then, “I just—I need some air.”

I offer him an understanding smile, rubbing his bicep gently. “We could go out to the gardens?”

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