Page 70 of Love at Second Down

My pulse quickens as I recall Damon’s words.

When he asked me this afternoon, I told him I’d be there if he wanted me there, not really thinking it through, but simply speaking from the heart.

Still, it’s the perfect way to prove to him that I’m reliable. I’ll fly halfway across the country for him, show up to the championship game. Even if my parents try to stop me, I’ll be there.

A jolt of determination straightens my spine as I reach for my laptop, flipping it open with newfound purpose.

The girls already booked their flights a week ago, knowing they’d make the trip, but that was before the double date. Before the kiss. Before everything changed and he wanted me there.

I’ll find a flight to Houston on Sunday night, maybe meet the girls at the airport and crash in one of their rooms.

My fingers fly across the keyboard, searching for available flights. There’s one seat left on a flight late Sunday night. The price makes me wince; it’s nearly all the money I’ve saved from Jave the Hutt, money I earned and need since I’m trying not to rely on my parents.

But Damon is worth it. Worth every penny and then some.

I fill in my payment information and click Purchase before I can second-guess myself, and when the confirmation email arrives seconds later, a strange mix of panic and exhilaration floods my system.

I’m really doing this.

I glance at my phone again, hoping to see Damon’s name flash across the screen, but it remains frustratingly silent. The urge to call him again and tell him I’ve booked a flight is overwhelming. But maybe this is better. With my parents in Ann Arbor, I need to stay put. I can talk to him in the morning, but for now, I need to finalize my plans.

Taking a deep breath, I grab my phone and text Charlotte.

ME:

Just booked a flight for Sunday night. Any chance I can crash with you guys?

Chapter 21

DAMON

Aplume of steam from the shower follows me into my bedroom, a towel wrapped around my waist. Coach wants us at the airport by one o’clock, which means I’ve got four hours to get my head straight before departing for the biggest game of my life. The National fucking Championship.

The words still feel foreign in my mouth, like someone else’s dream I accidentally stepped into.

I shake my head as I open my dresser, trying not to think about Avery and how she never showed up last night. I should’ve known better than to hinge my hopes on her, yet I waited for her to get off work like a kid waits for Christmas, only to be disappointed. Maybe she really did get caught up at work. Maybe she had a perfectly legitimate reason to leave me hanging, but I can’t help but feel like it’s the warning I need to stay away. If Iget too close to the flame, I’m bound to get burned, and when it comes to Avery Astor, I’m completely hopeless.

My phone buzzes on top of the dresser, interrupting my melancholic thoughts. Swiping it off the dresser, I check the screen, unsure of whether I should answer if it’s her. I’m all nerves?pins and needles and excruciating anticipation?but when I see Chris’s name, instead of hers, I hit ignore.

I’ll be seeing my teammates soon enough. Right now, I need to find a way to calm my racing thoughts and lock in. If I don’t, they’ll only get worse as we head to the airport.

I toss the phone back onto my dresser and slide open the top drawer, reaching for a clean pair of boxer briefs when the damn thing buzzes again. Same name. Same ringtone. Chris. Again.

I groan, raking a hand through my damp hair.

If he’s calling twice, it’s either something important, or he’s being a pain in the ass. Either way, I jab the green button and lift the phone to my ear.

“This better be good,” I mutter.

“Have you turned on the news?” Chris asks, his tone frantic.

I straighten, my muscles pulling tight. “No. Why?”

“Do it.”

I only hesitate a moment before I make my way into the living room where I find West, already dressed and lounging on our couch with a book in hand.

He barely spares me a glance as I swipe the remote from the coffee table and point it at the TV. “Chris said to turn the news on,” I tell him, then hit speaker on my phone, so we both can hear Chris once I power on the television.

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