Austin squeezes my hand, and I glance over at him, his strong profile backlit by the blazing lights around us. This is one moment I wouldn’t trade for anything. Because it’s not just about falling in love with him—which I no doubt am beginning to—but it’s about waking up, about finally feeling alive in a way I didn’t know I was missing. The stakes are higher, just like he said, and even though that should scare me, it doesn’t. Instead, it makes me want to dive in headfirst, consequences be damned.
I smile to myself, leaning into him as we continue to walk. If falling in love with Austinisa disease, then he’s the only cure I want.
SEVENTEEN
Austin
The kitchen smells like fresh coffee and a hint of cinnamon, and the morning light filters through the curtains, giving everything a warm golden glow. I’m sitting at the old wooden table that’s been in our family for as long as I can remember. It’s covered in nicks and scratches, each one a reminder of the years we’ve spent around it—eating, laughing, arguing. Levi leans against a counter while our mother sits across from me, her reading glasses perched on her nose as she flips through the local newspaper.
“So, Tampa wants you back,” Levi says, leaning forward with a skeptical look.
“It would appear that is the case,” I reply, placing my mug gently back on the table. The warm coffee still lingers in my throat, a small comfort in this swirling mess of emotions.
Mom peeks over the top of her newspaper, her eyebrows arching in mild disbelief. “I’d think you’d be happier than you seem to be.”
“I am happy,” I say with a chuckle, leaning back in my chair. “I’m also conflicted.”
Levi shakes his head, the incredulity clear on his face. “I’m home for a weekend, you ask me to come out to Mom’s so we can talk, and you’re going to tell me that after all the hard work you’ve put in to get back up to par—”
“And after putting us through so much at the same time,” Mom interjects, her voice sharp with the reminder of my melodramatic and immature actions over the past eighteen months.
Levi wags a finger, the kind that’s seen one too many family debates, at her. “Yes, to that, too. After all you’ve put us through, you’re going to sit here and tell me that not only can you go back to the team you loved, but now you’re conflicted about it?”
Does it sound crazy and absolutely absurd when he puts it like that? It does, and I’ll be the first to admit it. It sounds like I don’t appreciate what I have, like I’m somehow “better than” what’s on my plate. But it’s not about that.
I let my gaze sweep across the room, finally meeting Levi’s with a resigned sigh. “Yes.”
He looks at me as if I’ve just asked to borrow his last piece of pizza. “Yes?”
“To what you asked. Yes. I realize how insane it all sounds. My whole life has been off the rails since the day I signed with the Thunderbolts, really. It’s like I’ve been on a roller coaster that won’t slow down, and now, with this decision, it’s like I’m trying to decide whether to stay on the ride or jump off and hope for a softer landing.”
Mom sets the newspaper aside, her gaze softening. “Austin, sometimes life throws us curveballs and we have to figure out how to hit them. But just because something is difficult doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it.”
Levi leans back, shaking his head with a mix of frustration and understanding. “Well, whatever you decide, just make sure it’s what you really want. Because in the end, that’s what matters most. Let’s break it down. What’s holding you back?”
I take a deep breath, searching for the right words. “It’s not just about the football. It’s about everything that comes with it—the pressure, the expectations, the constant grind.”
As the words come out of my mouth, my mother grunts, shifting in her seat. I notice her pause, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Well, I think I know what the real reason could be,” she says as she leans forward and tosses the open newspaper onto the table for our viewing pleasure.
She smooths out the paper on the table, right between us, and I see it—a photo of me at the game last night. But it’s not just me. Bex is there, too, tucked against my side, her head resting on my shoulder. The way we’re leaning into each other, it’s obvious there’s more going on than just watching a game.
Mom looks up at me, and I catch the glimmer in her eyes. She’s got that look—part curiosity, part amusement, and a whole lot of knowing. “Well, would you look at that,” she says, tapping the picture with a finger as she exchanges a look with Levi. “You and Bex made quite the impression last night.”
I can feel my ears burn a little as I glance back at the photo. It’s just a moment captured in time, but it feels like it’s saying a lot more than I’d planned on. I lean back in my chair, trying to play it cool, but I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah,” I say, my voice a little rough. “We did, didn’t we?”
Levi pumps a fist in the air. “I knew hiring her to work for us would be the best idea ever.”
“Shush,” Mom yells, grabbing a stray piece of the real estate section, balling it up and tossing it Levi’s way. “She’s not a mail-order bride.”
“True, but so you guys know, if it didn’t work out I’d totally blame it on Georgie.” He snickers.
“I’ll let her know you said that,” Mom grumbles as she looks my way. “Ignore him. This is all making more sense now. What do you need from us, Austin?”
Goosebumps ripple across my skin as my mother’s hand closes on top of mine. This family. Levi and I won the lottery when it came to moms; we got lucky. The fact she would ask how she can help me, yet again, after all the ick I’ve put them through is a testament to how amazing and strong this woman is.
Levi kicks a chair out and throws himself in it, sidling up to the table next to me. “I feel like I need a shot of whiskey for this conversation.”
