Page 115 of Comeback
Laughing, I kiss him again. The rush of scoring a touchdown has me jumping back up to my feet. “Can we do it again?”
Amusement plays over his face, but he gets up looking as eager as I feel.
He throws the ball to me a few more times. I show him my victory dance, a ballet jump where I do the splits in the air, that Archer says is both impressive and sexy as fuck. Then I mimicBrogan’s cocky dance and Archer’s more humble, quiet, one arm fist pump of victory.
“I don’t think I look like that,” he says.
“Oh no, you look way sexier when you do it,” I assure him. He does, in fact, lookverygood when he does it.
“Been awhile since I got to do a victory dance.” He tosses the ball and catches it in one hand. “Next time I get there I might be so glad that I do one of your little leaps to celebrate.”
“Promise?”
He huffs a laugh in response. His expression is clouded suddenly, and I scrunch up my face as I replay our conversation for what has him looking far less happy than he did just a few seconds ago.
“Are you worried about the game this weekend?”
“No, not really,” he says, but not all that convincingly.
I wait him out to see if he’ll add more. His jaw works back and forth before he finally does. “If I don’t step up and start contributing, I don’t think I’ll be a Maverick for much longer.”
“They could trade you?” My heart lurches at the thought. I hadn’t even considered that. Yes, I know players get traded all the time, but not Archer.
“I don’t have a no-trade clause, so yeah.”
“But you’re a great player. Brogan must have told me how talented you are a dozen times. And I saw an article that mentioned you as one of the top receivers to watch.”
He gives me a wobbly smile. “Reading up on me?”
“I seem to be drawn to mentions of you lately.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“Yes, I’ve been reading up on you.” I roll my eyes playfully. “So I know what I’m talking about.”
“I appreciate it, but talent isn’t enough. The team needs someone who can get in the end zone.”
“You can. I know it.” I grab his shirt with both hands and shake him lightly. “You need to believe it.”
His gaze roams over my face, smiling ever so slightly.
“My boyfriend can’t get traded. I need you here.” I lean in and kiss him.
He hums against my lips. “In that case, I better get my shit together.”
I rest my arms over his shoulders. “I meant it. I believe in you. You’ll figure out how to get back in the end zone. And when you do, I’ll be in the stands cheering louder than anyone else.”
He presses his mouth to mine and lingers there almost as if he’s breathing me in instead of kissing me.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He rests his forehead against mine. “But I’m not letting you go now that I’ve got you.”
As if I’d try to go anywhere.
After we leave the stadium, Archer drives me to the studio. I peer in through the front windows, heart squeezing with pride and excitement at the transformed space.
There’s a note on the front door from Eleanor. I peel it off, reading her beautiful cursive penmanship.
Studio looks lovely.
