Page 12 of A Game Plan for Love

No matter how badly I messed up—and I have fucked up a lot—the love he offered me never faded. Not when he found out I sold my plasma to send money to my half-sister, even after she abused my generosity. Not when he discovered I was an ass to Sawyer. Not when I had a bad game, or wasted my first paycheck on clothes.

He was the best man I’ve ever met, and not a day passes that his absence doesn’t create an ache in my chest.

“What do you think?” Deon asks.

“Huh?”

He gives me an assessing look. “About having weekly barbecues at my house? We just built a new patio, and I bought a new grill.”

“Oh, sure. Sounds fun.”

I know what they’re doing. They’ve done it since Alan died. Checking in and hosting events so they can make sure I’m eating and surviving.

For a time, I appreciated it. Needed it. They each hosted me at their houses after Alan died so I wouldn’t have to grieve alone, but after a while, it felt like I was holding them back from living their lives, so I moved into a new place and tried to learn how to get through the day.

The grief is still there—will be forever—but I can stand on my own now.

Conversation moves on, but Henry leans over and whispers, “You good?”

“All good.”

He nods, then focuses on the field where the rookie wide receiver is dropping passes like a hot potato. Not a great look for the newbie, but Henry jogs over to talk him down from the ledge.

Now is the perfect time for a snack and to find the pretty woman who hands them out.

I’m halfway down the sideline when she intercepts me first.

Energy crackles in my chest.

“I was looking for you,” she says, voice whisper quiet.

“You were?”

Knowing that is not good for me.

“Yes.”

“Why are we whispering?” I lean in close enough to see the specks of deep brown in her hazel eyes. She blinks up at me, momentarily stunned by the proximity, and my hand brushes the back of her hand.

“I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

My heart thuds in my chest. It could be her proximity or the vague statement. Likely the former. Her hazel eyes, full of golden and brown flecks, flare when my eyes dip to her lips.

Does she feel the energy in the air? Like a fuse ready to blow.

Thank fuck she can’t hear the way my heartbeat quickens and skips under her focus.

“What is it?”

“Meet me at the tall plant by the elevator after dinner,” she demands, like we’re on a secret mission or planning a tryst. “The one with the floppy leaves.”

Pleasure rolls down my spine at the thought of a tryst with Addie.

She’s gone again before I can respond, but the peace she leaves me with lingers through the day.

It’s inexplicable.

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