Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
A sob breaks free from her chest, and she buries her face in mine. “I-I love you.”
My hand traces up and down her back, soothing her. “I love you too,” I assure her, over and over again.
Eventually, her cries quiet, and when her breathing evens out, I know she’s fallen asleep. Only then do I close my eyes, holding her a little tighter than needed. She’s back in my arms where she’s meant to be, and I’ll do anything, give up anything to see that she stays there.
Josephine Henderson is my happy ending.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Joey
“Tell me a story, Sunshine,” he whispers.
I’m curled up on his side in my bed, and even though I know he’s supposed to be sleeping, he’s not. He’s just lying here, holding me close and absently stroking my arm.
“Once upon a time, there was a woman madly in love with a football player, who just so happened to be the most handsome player in the league.”
“I like this story already,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“The world went crazy, lies were told, lives were disrupted. The football player was thrust into the limelight, taking the woman with him. At first, she hated it, despised the havoc it created in her life. Until she realized, he was her life. What happened to him, happened to her. Even though she had the choice to walk away, she knew it wasn’t an option for her. Their love, her love for him, was too great, too powerful. She wanted a life with him, even if that life was one of chaos.”
I glance up, meeting his gaze. “Even among the chaos lives a beautiful story. Our story.”
Brock grins and places another kiss on my forehead. “You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever known, Josephine Henderson.”
I sigh, resting my cheek on his bare chest once more. “We have a long road ahead of us, and I’m not just talking about the next few days while you recover from your concussion. There’re the trade rumors we’ll have to deal with, and I’ll have to confront my mom.”
“You don’t have to do that alone.”
I take a deep breath. “Yes, I do. I need to have this conversation with Lucinda Gordon on my own, face-to-face. Calling her mother at this point makes me sick. I need to look her in the eye and tell her how much she has hurt me, and I’m not just talking about what happened in Seattle. For years, she’s used everyone around her, bled them dry, myself included. It’s time I told her how I feel, how badly she has hurt me. Then walk away. Because at the end of the day, I don’t think my words will affect her. She’ll never change, and it’s time I cut the toxic from my life.”
“And I’ll be right there with you. If not beside you, nearby, waiting to take you home.”
I move my hand, reveling in the feel of his hard, muscular chest beneath my palm. “What are we going to do about the trade?”
“I don’t know.” Brock sighs, his arm getting a little tighter around me. “When I signed my rookie year with Chicago, I thought that’s where I’d stay my entire career. Sure, I knew deep down the chances of that actually happening were slim, but I had faith in my ability, my game, and my team.”
Another sharp inhale as his heart thunders in my ear. “When I was traded to Kansas City, I was grateful for the opportunity to play with Caleb again. Eager to move to my new city and get back to work. Then I saw you again, and nothing was the same.
“When I signed, it was a one-year contract, with the option to extend up to four years. Negotiations were to begin at week seven of the regular season, not week four, so why there’s trade talk now, I’m not sure. And why Miller, my agent, hasn’t heard a word is beyond me.”
“I bet he’s not happy,” I whisper, running my fingers through the dark hair on his chest.
“Oh, he’s fucking pissed. The first time he heard anything was on Twitter before the game. He started making calls to the Ramblers’ office, but no one was available. Last we talked, he was waiting on a call from the GM to find out what’s going on.”
“What will you do? If you’re traded?”
“Depends where it is. If I don’t like it, I’ll retire early.”
“What if I go with you?” I ask, without giving it much thought. But the truth is, I would. I’d go anywhere with him in a heartbeat.
“I can’t ask you to do that. I won’t, actually.”
My heart practically bursts with love and appreciation for him. “You didn’t ask. I offered.”
“And I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know,” he says, sliding his lips across my forehead. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get there, okay?”