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Waiting for Her Page 3
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They become insignificant.
Until they aren’t.
Within ten minutes of Dawson walking away, I realize just how significant the prick really is.
“Grady! Get your ass over here now!” At the frantic yells of one of my friends, I take off at a dead sprint through the empty field.
I have no idea why my heart is pumping so hard or why I feel like lava is running through my veins, but ever since we got to this damn party, I’ve felt on edge. I round the corner and see my friend Conner pulling Bri up to standing, her hair a mess and the jersey—my jersey—she is wearing covered in dirt.
Dawson is on the ground, shoving Blake off him. Blake stands, kicking the side of Dawson’s brand new red pickup his daddy bought him. Dawson jumps up and takes one step toward Blake but then stops. “What the fuck, Blake?” His gray t-shirt is covered in dirt and a few blood splatters and his hair is a mess. From the looks of it, he’s just had his ass beat and it only makes me even more nervous.
“What the hell happened?” Bri’s friend Grace shouts, running up behind me but immediately moves to Bri’s side, hugging her. Even though I want Bri in my arms right now, I have this ugly feeling wrapping itself around my heart that’s telling me I need to keep close to Dawson. Grace starts brushing off the dirt from Bri’s jeans and picks dried leaves out of Bri’s hair, turning glaring eyes at Dawson.
“Fuck you, D. I know what I saw,” Blake snarls.
“You don’t know shit,” he says, before he spits blood onto the ground.
“Someone want to enlighten me as to what the fuck is happening right now?” I growl as I move closer to Bri. My eyes cut to hers and what I see breaks my heart. Seeing the tears streak down her gorgeous face and her cheek already red, there’s not a doubt in my mind I know exactly why I was so on edge earlier.
I’ve always had a sixth sense when it came to Bri.
She’s my other half.
The missing part to my soul.
And the thought of some asshole touching her…
“D here thought he’d take matters into his own hands when Bri brushed him off a-fucking-gain. Like he can’t get it through to his thick skull that Bri doesn’t want him.”
“Fuck you and fuck her. She’s nothing but a tease.”
I don’t give myself time to think.
Or ask questions.
I react.
“You asshole!” I scream as I lunge at Dawson, my right fist connecting with his left cheek. He fights back, landing a few punches of his own, but my adrenaline has kicked in and I have a hell of a lot of anger building up.
I don’t let up. I rain punches down on his face like it’s a punching bag, something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. And even when he crumples to the ground after a hard punch to his gut, I don’t back down.
“You don’t touch her! You hear me?”
“Grady! Stop!” I hear Bri cry out, but I can’t. Not when he possibly did what would be my worst nightmare. I can only hope he didn’t take it as far as... the thought makes me hit harder.
Hearing her trembling voice should put me on pause but it only amps me up again. I fall to the ground over top him, using my fists to show him exactly what I think of him. “You son of a bitch! She’s not yours ever, you got it yet? She’s mine!” I shout and grunt when I feel arms wrap around me.
I spit at Dawson’s busted up face as three of my friends start pulling me off. I kick him in the balls, because the fucker deserves it, and relax my stance. My friends slowly release their hold, but the anger is still coiled tight around me.
“Grady,” I hear Bri plead one more time and it’s quiet enough around us it causes me to look over at her. She’s still a mess from whatever that asshole did to her, but it doesn’t take away from how beautiful she is.
I walk over and wrap her in my arms, my breathing still heavy as my chest heaves up and down. But holding her does something to me. Having her in my arms fills me with a sense of peace I can’t get anywhere else. She’s my perfect fit, my other half. I can’t imagine a life without her by my side. She’s so tiny I have to lift her in order for her arms to be able to go around my neck. Her fingers go to the back of my head and thread through my hair, and it’s like a thousand-pound weight has been lifted off me.
I want to tell her I’ve been in love with her for longer than I can remember. That when I think of a future, I see her face. She’s everything to me.
“Are you…” I croak, not being able to finish speaking.
I set her down on her feet but don’t release my hold. She leans back from me so I can get a better look at her. “Grady. I’m okay.” Her voice is soft and still scared, but her bright green eyes are shining with unshed tears. It makes me want to punch the living shit out of him all over again. The muscles in my arms strain against my shirt and my neck is coiled tight. My nostrils flare as my eyes track over her reddening cheek. I hear Dawson moan and I look in his direction, feeling like he still didn’t receive enough from me for what he tried to do to her. She raises up on her tiptoes and lifts her small hands to turn my head so I’m facing her once again. “Listen to me. That’s done. Blake… he got here. And I did what you and your brother have always taught me.”
“That why his nose looked busted up before I started in on him?” I ask her, smirking a little bit, despite the fury still coiling in my gut.
She nods and I lean my forehead on hers, running my hands up and down her arms. She’s shivering and I don’t know if it’s from what happened or the chill in the air.
“B, I can’t think of what could have happened.”
“I know. I know, Grady. But I’m okay.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
I keep repeating sorrys until my throat is scratchy. I tuck my head against her neck and actually feel tears prick my damn eyes.
“I’m sorry I’ve been an idiot so much lately. I can’t lose you. I can’t. You mean everything to me. I can’t lose you,” I kiss her cheek, hoping she understands. Because I finally truly understand what’s been bothering her.
We both want more, but I’m the one terrified to take the next step. I can’t lose her. What would happen to our friendship if it didn’t work out between us as more?
She sniffles and it’s all I can do not to spin around and start pounding on Dawson again.
Dawson, who’s currently lying on the ground, hopefully in a lot of pain, with our friends standing around him like prison guards.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I tell her.
“You could never scare me.”
“Fuck, Bri. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
They’re words we’ve shared before, but she’s not getting it. I’ve waited far too long to tell her my true feelings.
“No, I’m in…” but what I’m about to say is cut off by the sounds of sirens along with dozens of our high school classmates scattering, not wanting to get caught drinking because of the fight.
But I don’t move.
For one, I wasn’t drinking.
And two, I’m not going to hide from what just happened.
But the next thing I know, I’m placed somewhere I never expected to be in my life. The back of a police car.
Under arrest.
For assault.
I gasp awake, a dream I’m all too familiar with taking over my night once again.
Though, it’s been a few years since this particular dream plagued my sleep.
When I accepted the job, the board told me I needed to prepare myself for a firestorm of media wanting to get the story. I expected that. Their answer to the inevitable was to offer an exclusive to Sports Illuminated. Not a bad idea.
I knew Bri was working for them, obviously. I may not be in her life anymore, but our families are close, and, admittedly, I’ve paid attention.
Never did I imagine she would be assigned my story.
Or that she’d be the one following me around for six weeks.
I left the me
eting and immediately came home. Changed my clothes and spent the next four hours working out my pissed-off energy.
How dare she accept this story?
Why?
Did she think she’d use what we once had to fluff up her feature?
I could have told them no.
To find someone else.
But I’m a masochist.
Part of me wants to see how she’ll handle it.
And, honestly, I want to show her what I’ve made of my life.
I only hope I can ignore the fact that despite myself, I still find her the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Despite myself…
I still love her.
Grady
“I know it hurts! Push through it, you pansies!”
I hear snickers at my use of the word, but it doesn’t deter me.
Our training program is intense, to say the least.
It’s Friday of our first week of practice. The boys are breathing heavy but the difference I see in our team already is promising.
“Five more minutes, guys! Don’t piss it away or make us stay late.”
Groans and gagging are heard from across the field, but my assistant coach smirks and checks his stop watch as the team continues doing burpees.
He blows the whistle, and I watch as 250-pound college athletes crumble to the ground.
“Don’t think you’re getting out of cool downs!”
They climb to their feet and follow the program we taught them on the first day.
My assistant coach, Drew, walks my way and nods his head to the field. “How does it feel?”
“Incredible.”
“You made it through your first week,” he says with a smile. When I got the job, I wondered if Drew would harbor bad feelings toward me for not getting the head coach position. But he’s never once shown it. In fact, he’s been my biggest supporter, aside from my family.
I don’t know why he felt the way he did, and I never pushed it or asked again. I was simply grateful he felt as confident in me and my abilities.
He was Coach Bales’s assistant for years, and by default, my coach before my injury. He also played an instrumental part in changing my decision to change career paths following graduation. He saw my leadership abilities on the field, encouraged me to think about coaching and well… here I am.
“Plans for the weekend?” Drew asks.
“Not really. Working on a few plays. One of my oldest friend’s band is playing at a bar in town so I’m planning to go watch him.”
My parents are high school sweethearts whose best friends Josh and Lauren are also high school sweethearts. They had twins, Mia and Brandon, just a few months after my parents had my older brother Cole. Now my brother’s married to Mia and our moms basically think they won at life because their babies are married and they’re connected forever, their words.
He cocks his head in my direction. “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”
“Brandon? I’ve known him since I was a baby. Our families are close. He’s Mia’s twin brother.”
“Your brother Cole’s wife, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s he doing?”
I smile, knowing he’s in way over his head at the moment.
“Good. Finishing up his residency. Mia’s about to have the baby any day now.”
“No way. Cole’s a daddy, huh?” He grins widely. “Uncle Grady.”
I chuckle. “Uncle Grady’s gonna spoil the shit out of the little bean.”
“I have no doubt,” Drew says, chuckling.
“What about you? Any plans? Wanna come watch the band with me?”
“I might do that.”
“Yeah? Cool. I’ll text you the spot, sound good?”
“Yup. See you soon.”
I walk into the bar, a set of pool tables along the far side wall with a stage at the back of the building, and breathe in deeply. The heady scent of typical fried bar food fills the air, and the sound of chatter and clinking glasses filters into my ears. A few heads turn as I walk toward the bar to where my brother is standing, but other than the brief acknowledgement, this establishment is used to my presence.
It’s one of the reasons I love it so much. I can be Grady here. Not Head Coach of the Warriors.
“Hey man! Glad you could make it!” Cole smiles wide.
He orders a Coke and a water then looks at me and points. I shrug and he orders me my regular beer on tap. “Not drinking tonight, huh?” I ask when he takes a drink of the Coke the bartender places in front of him.
“Not with Mia so close to giving birth. Don’t want to have any alcohol in my system when she goes into labor.”
“Smart man.”
“How was practice?”
“Awesome. Got two of ‘em to puke,” I chuckle.
He barks out a laugh and claps me on the shoulder. “I bet you did. It’s like your dream job. Still torturing people, only this time you’re getting paid to do it rather than doing it in our backyard.”
“Watch out. You’re sounding like Dad.”
He grins shamelessly.
The bartender places our drinks on the bar top and I throw a ten down on the counter. “Come on. Mia’s over here. Miserable as ever. Cheer her up.”
We make our way through the crowd where Mia’s sitting with Brandon’s wife, Savannah.
Savannah stands, lifts on her toes and gives me a hug.
“I’d stand, but I’m the size of a manatee and just as slow,” Mia says, hand resting on her swollen stomach.
“You still look beautiful,” I murmur as I lean down to kiss her cheek.
“Lay off my woman, brother,” Cole teases, knowing Mia is like an older sister to me.
Mia rolls her eyes. “How was your first week, Coach?”
“Excellent. How was cooking a baby?”
“Excellent,” she grins, rubbing her baby bump.
“I see that.” I lean over and place my hand next to hers, and like clockwork, after a few moments, little bean kicks the hell out of my hand.
She rolls her eyes but the smile on her face proves she’s not at all annoyed like she’s trying to pretend to be. “Seriously. Every time.”
I shrug. “Uncle Grady’s got the special touch.” I wink and lean back in my chair. “Brandon ready for tonight?” I ask Savannah.
“Always is.”
I take a drink of the cold beer. “Forgot to tell you. Drew’s on his way.”
“Oh yeah? How’s it going? Is it awkward?” Savannah asks, her mouth stretching out in an ‘eek’ face.
“Not at all.”
“That’s good.”
“Why do you keep thinking it would be awkward?” I hear Drew’s booming voice from over my shoulder.
I gesture to Savannah. “She’s the one who asked! I said it wasn’t.”
“Throwing me under the bus, I see?” Savannah jokes.
He chuckles and reaches over, shaking hands with Cole. I introduce him to everyone before he sits down in the seat beside me.
“Did you tell them yet?”
“Tell us what?”
Drew waggles his eyebrows a bit before taking a tug off his beer he carried over with him. “Grady has a tag along for the next six weeks. Sports Illuminated is doing an exclusive story on him.”
He says it with pride, not realizing the minute I tell everyone who was assigned to the story, our lighthearted evening of fun will come to a screeching halt.
“No way! You didn’t tell us this!” Mia shouts excitedly, slapping the tabletop.
“Calm down, Mama.”
“Cole! Did you know this? This is huge!”
My brother turns accusing eyes to me. “No. I knew nothing of this. Mia’s right, Grady. This is huge. Why didn’t we know?”
I shift in my seat and clear my throat, grab the attention of a waitress walking past and tell her we need a round of shots, even though it’s just me, Savannah, and Drew drinking.
“Shit. What’s wrong?” Cole
asks immediately.
I look to Drew who looks confused, rightfully so.
It is a big deal that SI is doing this article on me.
What’s an even bigger deal is who is doing the article.
“It’s Bri,” I murmur, hoping our waitress is quick with my order of shots.
“Come again?” Cole asks, choking on his coke, no doubt wishing he’d be able to drink something a bit stronger right about now.
“What are the odds? Have you seen her yet? Talked to her?”
“Not yet,” I say shifting in my seat.
“How’s that going to work?” he asks but luckily I’m saved by the waitress bringing back the shots. I gesture to Drew and Savannah to take theirs as I tip back one followed immediately by another, not even waiting for everyone to join me. I barely feel the burn from the alcohol.
Bri was a fixture in our home so when she broke up with me, I wasn’t the only one who felt her absence. Cole considered her a little sister and my sisters, Maggie and Harper, thought of her as one as well. And Mia, well, she thought of her as one of her best friends. Our break up felt more like abandonment and we were all devastated.
“It’s Bri.” Mia says, both shock and confusion in her voice.
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“No, Grady. It’s. Bri.” Savannah says, nodding her head with wide eyes.
Mia’s eyes are narrowed, and Cole looks like he’s seen a ghost.
Actually, he’s not even looking at me. None of them are.
They’re looking behind me.
I turn in my seat to see what they’re all gawking at, and wouldn’t you know it, the object of conversation is right there.
Standing behind me.
Bright green eyes glistening.
Top teeth biting down on her plush bright red bottom lip.
Dark hair down, curling over her shoulders.
Beautiful.
To anyone else, she would look like she’s going to a St. Patrick’s Day party, but I know Bri. She has more green and white in her closet than anyone I know.
If I bleed the colors, she may as well paint them on her body. I’m sure it’s at least part of the reason she was chosen to do the story on me. She knows Warrior football better than anyone I know.
My eyes can’t decide which part of her to catalogue first. When I was younger, I was positive there was nothing sexier than Bri Jameson. It’s shockingly apparent nothing’s changed, at least in my reaction to her appearance. I take in the rest of her, wanting so badly to reach out and pull her into my arms. She’s grown into a beautiful woman.