Page 90 of Most Valuable Player
Ugh. I can’t wait for this night to be over so I can kiss him to my heart’s content.
We move as a group of four, wandering the banquet hall. I stand in the back, holding fast to Mason while fancy people greet his family, eyes raking the room in search of the demon hosting this banquet. I swear people are staring at us.
The longer we venture through the hall, the more Mason unfurls. His trembling becomes more pronounced, and when Liam’s father speaks through a microphone to the room, he nearly shoots out of my grip.
“Thank you for attending this special event for my beloved son,” the man says with a cool, aloof smile that readsI’m above you all. “The spread of appetizers is now available. We’ll inform you when to be seated for the main course.”
“You’re fine,” I whisper, massaging the side of Mason’s wrist.
“I don’t see him,” he mumbles.
“Me neither.”
We make our way to the buffet-style table, which is stocked full of warm treats and handhelds. Unfortunately, the smell of food causes Mason’s cheeks to tint green. He staggers away and says, “I need a second. Um.”
His eyes flit to the bathroom.
“I’ll go with you.” I start stepping out of line, but Mason shakes his head, fanning a palm over his stomach.
“No.” He steps farther away, the pale tone worsening in his skin. “Would you get me some bruschetta? I just need a moment. Alone.”
He beelines for the restroom. I have the urge to follow him—who knows when Liam might try to ambush him? But I don’t want to make things harder if all he truly needs is a minute to himself. So I pile bruschetta onto a fancy plate and bring it to our designated table. His parents are seated, and I don’t know that I want to be alone with them, so I return to the appetizer table to find something for myself.
That’s when I see him.
Not Liam.
There’s a bulky, looming man chatting in a group with warm bronze skin, jet-black eyes, and tight cornrows crawling toward theback of his neck. He’s wearing a formal suit and a striped tie. The sight of him freezes my heart against my ribs and ices my breath in my throat.
“Beau Rainey?” I croak.
My football idol twists his head at the sound of his name and latches eyes with me. I think I’m about to dissolve from the sheer surrealness of seeing him standing there, directly in front of me. This man I’ve framed my entire future after. The man who overcame so much adversity and clawed his way to success…
I realize the small cluster of people around him have fallen silent, and they’re watching me, waiting. My mouth is hanging open, so I quickly collect myself, clearing my throat. “Sorry,” I whisper, and I whirl away, because oh my God, oh myGod—
“You want to talk?”
His voice pours over me from directly behind. I peek back to find that he’s stepped outside of his group and is looking down at me with a polite, friendly smile.
“Oh my God,” I wheeze out.
He laughs, the sound deep and cavernous. “Fan?” he asks.
“Huge,” I breathe. “I’m…I just…I’m a quarterback, too.”
“Yeah? Whereabouts?”
“Elwood High.” I can’t even hear my own voice. I feel like I’m choking on my own air. “I’m going to play at Alpine. Or I might. If I’m recruited. I have one more game to impress one of their scouts, so…”
“No shit?” Beau Rainey—fuckingBeau Rainey—grins at me, giving my shoulder a congratulatory pat. “That’s great, kid. You excited?”
I stare at him, trying to thrust the word “yes” between my lips.
It doesn’t come.
“I don’t know,” I say instead.
His thick, fuzzy brows pop with curiosity.
