Page 92 of Love at Second Down

I swallow, feeling the truth of her words sink inside me like an anchor, holding me steady. “We were, weren’t we?”

She nods, and I fill my lungs, her sugared-almond scent winding around me like a vine as I lift my fist, waiting for her to do the same. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

I bring my fingers down over hers—my scissors cutting her paper. “Have you been with anyone since me?” I ask, and then I shake my head and close my eyes. “I mean, I’m sure you have. Two and a half years is a long time, but—”

“No.” Her voice is firm, a salve to my open wounds as I glance up at her, sinking into the depths of her eyes. “I’m not going to lie, the first year apart, I went on a couple dates, trying to convince myself I could move on. That what I did was for the best. That I set you free, and that you were probably happy and had moved on, so I needed to do the same. But every date was a disaster. All I did was compare each guy to you, and it became clear very quickly no one would ever measure up, so I just stopped.”

She shrugs, like it’s nothing, when it meanseverything.

My heart pounds in my chest as I absorb her words like a sponge and I’m thirsty for more. She’s been waiting for me all this time, just as I’ve been waiting for her. The revelation makes me dizzy with possibility, with want.

“And you?” she asks, her voice a whisper in the dim room. “Have you been with anyone since me?”

How do I tell her that the thought of being with anyone else like that made me sick? That any time I even came close to being with a girl, it was her touch I yearned for, her kiss I craved? How do I tell her that two and a half years apart wasn’t enough to satiate this burning hunger inside? That I belong to her and she belongs to me?

How do I tell her that no matter how hard I pushed myself on the football field, no matter how hard I tried to forget, shewas always there, in the back of my mind? Her laugh echoing in my head. Her eyes haunting my dreams. Her name sitting like a prayer on the tip of my tongue, unspoken but never forgotten. Alwaysthere.

How do I tell her that the only thing more terrifying than losing her once is daring to hope I might get her back? That this could work? That forever with her is still a possibility and not a fool’s dream?

She lowers her eyes, mistaking my silence for my answer. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you.”

I shake my head, not bothering with the formality of Rock, Paper, Scissors to answer her question. Because this is too fucking important for games.

“No,” I say, my voice firm in the quiet.

“What?” She blinks up at me, her gaze uncertain.

“The answer is no,” I repeat, watching the revelation sink in. “I haven’t been with anyone else, Avery.”

Her eyes widen as she sucks in a breath. “But . . . I broke your heart, and you’re . . . well,you. Damon Huhn. Star quarterback for Ann Arbor. Future NFL star, and arguably, the hottest guy on campus. You could have anyone.”

“Arguably,” I tease.

“I’m serious,” she says, shoving at my chest when I capture her hands.

Tugging her closer, I stare into her eyes, my expression serious as I say, “I didn’t want anyone. I wanted you. It’salwaysbeen you.”

Chapter 27

AVERY

The air between us shifts, growing charged, the years of longing and loneliness and lost time stretching between us like a bowstring.

Damon reaches out and brushes his thumb across my cheek, and I lean into his touch like a puppy seeking pets. “We should play again,” I murmur, because I’m not yet done asking questions. There’s so much more to know. To discover.

He nods, swallowing as I hold out my fist, letting him call it out only to win. “Can you ever forgive me?” I ask, before I can overthink it. Because I need to know, unsure of whether there’s a way forward if he can’t.

“The fact that I’m here means I already have,” he says, his voice soft as his gaze drops to my mouth.

“Enough to truly give me another chance?” I whisper.

His throat bobs and with it, his gaze shifts back up to mine, the green brightening like emeralds. “I can’t say I’m not scared, that I don’t . . . have reservations or that I’m not worried I might get hurt again. If I did, I’d be lying. But the one thing that’s become crystal clear to me since you’ve returned is how much I want you, Avery. I’ve always wanted you, and some things are worth the risk. You’re one of them.” He cups my face in his hands, brushing my cheekbones with his thumbs, steadying me with his gaze.

With a jagged sigh, I lean forward and press my forehead to his, breathing in the masculine scent of him as something akin to relief paints the walls of my heart. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that. I don’t want to just go back to the way things were,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “We were kids then. We’re different now. We’ve grown. And, yeah, I still want the magic of us, but I want something better, something even stronger.”

“What if we mess it up again?” he says, his voice breaking over the words.

My chest aches with the emotion crackling in his voice. “And what if we don’t?”

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