Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
He shakes his head. “No, I like having you on me.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. He walks out of the door, and a few seconds later, the front door opens and closes again.
A mere minute after he leaves, I start to second-guess myself. But I know I have to go. I promised him I would, and I can’t backtrack now.
The day flies by, and before I know it, I’m at the stadium trying to find my way. I stop at the will call window. “Hi. Josh Chambers left me a ticket.”
The woman behind the window smiles at me. “Sure. What’s your name?”
“Violet... uh Violet Chambers.” I can feel my face heat at the way the woman stares at me, no doubt trying to figure out who I am.
“Yes, I have it right here.” She pulls a ticket out of a box with a lanyard also. She hands them both over to me. “The ticket will get you to your seat. The lanyard will get you anywhere else you want to go.”
I thank her and put the lanyard around my neck as I walk through the tunnel. An usher spots me and takes me to my seat. I find out that I’m in a section with a lot of the players’ wives. We’re close, and somehow I ended up with a seat on the front row. As far as I know, these tickets have been sold out forever. My brother is going to freak out when he finds out I’m here.
I’ve never watched a lot of football. Any time I have watched it, it’s been more for the commercials. But since I met Josh two months ago, he hasn’t played one game without me glued to the television screen. I’m searching for him on the field, when he spots me and jogs over. I stand up and lean over the wall in front of me. “Hey you.”
He steps up and kisses me. “Hey you.” He’s smiling and obviously happy that I’m here. “I’m glad you’re here. You going home with me after this?”
My smile falters for just a second, but it’s enough for his smile to drop. “What?”
I reach out and grab his forearm because that’s all I can reach. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
His jaw clenches. “Tell me now.”
I shake my head and look around. “I can’t tell you now, not like this. I promise I’ll tell you after the game.”
He turns his arm and moves his hand to mine. His hold is possessive. “After you tell me what you want to tell me, are you coming home with me?”
I think about it. I know that’s what I want. I have no doubt about how I feel. “If you still want me to, I will.”
That seems to appease him because he leans in for another kiss. His kiss goes on until the people around us are hooting and hollering, and I can see the blinding camera lights as people take our picture. “There’s no doubt in my mind. Nothing you can say will change how I feel about you. I want you with me tonight... and always. Now I’m going to go win a ball game. I’ll see you soon.”
And I find as the night goes on, he wasn’t lying. He has a record game. Everyone, even the announcers are talking about him being on fire tonight. And by the end of the night there’s a burn in my belly because every time there’s a whistle called in time out, he looks up in the stands at me and smiles. Every. Damn. Time.
The anxiety of what I need to tell him is overwhelming but only because I don’t know how he’s going to react. And when the last buzzer rings, indicating the game is over, I can feel the queasiness of what’s about to happen rise in my throat.
I can’t make it to the bathroom. The crowd is crazy, and no one will let me by. I get as far up the steps as I can, and I know I won’t make it. I find the nearest trash can and heave over top of it. People are laughing and having a good time around me. I hear someone say, “Drink another one.” Obviously, everyone thinks I’ve drunk too much when in fact I haven’t touched a drop. When I think I’m finished, I stand up and put my hands on the side of the railing. I dig a water and a mint out of my purse and rinse my mouth out before chewing the minty breath freshener. I pop in another one, already feeling it settle my stomach.
I’m still concentrating on my breathing when I look back to the field. Josh is surrounded by people. There are scantily clad women all around him, vying for his attention. I watch him closely. He’s not smiling. He’s looking at my empty seat before his eyes frantically start to search for me. He’s pushing his way through the crowd, and when he spots me a few feet up, hands on the railing, next to the trash can, he surprises me and everyone else as he jumps up to the stadium seats and climbs up to where I’m standing. He stops in front of me before pulling me to the side away from the traffic of people pushing their way through. A lot of them have stopped to stare at us, but Josh doesn’t seem to care.