Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Our arms close around him, and we hold him silently, letting him know with our bodies that we’re not going anywhere.
“The last thing we want to do is hurt you,” I murmur.
“Sometimes that can’t be helped though,” Brady says. “Having thousands of miles between us isn’t our choice, but there’s no way around it. Unless I transfer my last year of law school to somewhere else, or—”
“You’re not doing that,” Prescott says. “You only have a year left. I have a year and a bit on my contract—”
“I can’t do the distance anymore,” Brady whines.
“We’ve done it before, and we can do it again.” Prescott kisses the top of Brady’s head. “It’s only twelve months.”
Brady buries his head on my shoulder. “I don’t want to go to that airport in a week and have to say goodbye again. It hurts too much. I can’t say goodbye.”
I hold him tighter. “It won’t be goodbye. It will be see you later.”
“It’ll be see you in a year.” His tone is so petulant I have the urge to call him a brat, but this isn’t a game. This is him pouring his heart out.
“What if after Prescott goes back to California and I give my notice, I come and stay in New York with you while I work out a business plan?”
Brady’s head snaps up. “You’d do that?”
“Of course I would.”
“What about Pres?”
“We can visit him on weekends,” I say. “Or I can split my time—”
Prescott smiles. “Kit planning to fly back and forth between coasts to keep us in line sounds like such a Kit thing to do.”
Brady laughs. “It really does.”
“It’s only twelve months,” I point out again.
“It’s going to be twelve months of suckage.”
Yeah, Brady’s right about that.
But we’re going to make it work because I’m not going to let my guys slip away that easily.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
brady
One week flies by too fast, and even though a year is only fifty-two of them, my stupid brain likes to focus on the difference between the next twelve months and this past week: I won’t have Kit and Prescott with me.
Prescott’s got a few more weeks before he’ll get sent back to California. Kit is trying to plan his exit from the Pentagon. And I’m on my way to New York.
Alone.
“This isn’t goodbye,” Kit reminds me on the drive to the airport, and for the past seven days, I’ve tried not to think about it. Distraction is really easy when you have two men to preoccupy your thoughts, but now what will I have?
Catching up on work and studying for my final year of law school.
I never thought I’d regret getting my law degree. I knew from the beginning it wasn’t technically needed to become a sports agent, but Uncle Damon is so knowledgeable, and he’s created this huge empire, that I wanted to go the same route he did. If I hadn’t gone to law school, I’d already be a junior associate at King Sports instead of a lowly intern who still needs to pay his dues.
I’d have my pick of location, a decent roster of clients, and I’d have my dream job, my dream guys, and I wouldn’t be here, saying goodbye. Again.
Because no matter how many times they say that’s not what this is, the truth is this isn’t see you tonight at dinner. It’s not let’s plan something for the weekend or go see this concert next month.
It’s see you when I see you, and as much as I appreciate them encouraging me to finish what I started, part of me wishes they’d tell me to quit and that they need me. Want me in their lives permanently instead of sporadically.
Instead, they have to be all supportive and shit.
How dare they, honestly.
“You done sulking yet?” Prescott asks from the back seat.
“You done being an assface?” My retort only makes Prescott laugh.
“He forgets we find him adorable when he’s petulant,” he says.
Kit’s in serious mode though. “In twelve months—”
I hold up my hand. “I don’t need another it’s only twelve months speech.”
“When you think about it, it won’t even be that long,” Kit says. “I’ll be coming to New York as soon as I can. You graduate in May. That’s nine months. How soon can you move out to California?”
I stare out the window because that’s another issue. Uncle Damon was amazing when I asked for this summer off. He’s my mentor, my favorite honorary uncle, and he’s the best boss. I’m in New York to learn from him specifically, and if I’m not even doing that, why shouldn’t I switch schools to move to Cali sooner? I could go back to my alma mater and finish at Franklin U.
“He’s thinking about quitting again,” Prescott says.
“You a mind reader now?”
“It’s the injured leg. It heightens all my other senses.”
“At least you didn’t lose your horrible sense of humor while your brain was bleeding.”