Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
It was page after page of Delilah and some guy, who I could only assume was Drew. He was in a football uniform in half the pictures, and apparently Delilah didn’t have to grow into her looks as many women did—she was smokin’ hot at every age. Most of the photos looked like they were from high school, but some looked like they might have been from college. The two of them were arm-in-arm in most pictures. Smiling, laughing. A pang of jealousy reared from within when I flipped to one of them kissing. It was probably eight years old, and the poor guy had been dead for almost as many years. God, I was an asshole.
I put the book back on the coffee table and closed my eyes for a few minutes to clear my head. I smelled her come back into the room.
“Do you want something to drink?” She was smiling, and then suddenly her face dropped. I followed her line of sight to the photo album. She walked to the coffee table and picked it up, storing it in the console beneath the TV.
“No, thank you,” I said.
She scrunched her face.
“You asked me if I wanted something to drink. I’m good.”
“Oh. Yeah. Right.” She paused and looked around the room. “I’ll just be a few more minutes.”
When she disappeared, I stared at the cabinet that Delilah had just put away the photo album in. Young love. Loss. Football. It was like a light bulb had turned on for the first time. My head fell back against the couch. How had I not figured it out before? Had I been hit one too many times in the fucking head at practice? I smacked myself in the skull and groaned. Jesus Christ, Brody. It’s so obvious.
I stood and paced back and forth for a few minutes, trying to gather my thoughts before walking into the bedroom.
“Hey.” I leaned against the doorframe and waited for her to come out of her closet.
She came out wearing a navy skirt and a white shirt, with a set of pearls that caught around one breast and hung down to her waist. Classy, yet sexy. Although I preferred the pink tank top without the bra as long as it was just the two of us. “Am I taking too long?” She was carrying a pair of navy heels in her hand.
“No. Can we sit?”
“In here?”
“I just want to talk a minute.”
She hesitated but then walked to the bed and sat down on the edge. I kneeled, balancing myself on one knee, and took the shoes from her hand, slipping on one at a time. She looked down at me, confused. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” There was so much I wanted to say, yet I wasn’t quite sure of the words.
“Everything okay?” she asked
“Other than I’m a dumb fuck? Yeah, everything is fine.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“And you’ll answer?”
“I’ll try.”
“Why aren’t we together anymore?”
She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her eyes were sad. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Try. I’ll listen.”
“Well. That night when I came to your suite and Willow was there, I was upset. Jealous even. I hated the thought of another woman near you. But when you told me nothing happened, I believed you. I never doubted you would keep to your word and be faithful.”
“But you still think I have feelings for her. The same kind of feelings I have for you.”
She looked away. “I don’t know what I think.”
“Look at me, Delilah.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“You wanna know what I think? I think you loved Drew the same way I loved Willow. And when you lost him, it hurt for a really long time. So much so that you were afraid to do it again.” I wiped a lone tear from her cheek. “This whole time I thought you were afraid to fall in love with me, that I was the problem.
“It’s not you.”
“I know that now. You’re just afraid to fall.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. This makes my job much easier.”
“Easier? How?”
“Changing me was going to be a lot of work, but proving to you that if you’ll take a chance on me, I’ll be there to catch you won’t be as hard. Let’s face it, I’m an asshole. It ain't easy to change an asshole.”
She laughed through her tears. “I think I just need time.”
“I’ll be right here waiting.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me for a long time. It wasn’t the outcome I had hoped for, but at least I knew I was on the right track.
Two weeks after the Steel won the Super Bowl, life had finally begun to calm down. Brody had lived up to his promise—being there for me and letting me take my time. The only time he’d even attempted to touch me was right after he’d won the game. Everyone was celebrating on the field, and he’d managed to find me. He picked me up, swung me around in the air, and then planted a fat kiss on my lips. We both spent the next seven days in a craze. Between media coverage, the team parade, and dozens of interviews, I was surprised he even found time to see me. But he did. Every single day he made time for me. There were no grand gestures or attempts to move things along, either—he just showed me every day that he’d be there for me. How could a girl not fall the rest of the way when she knows she can count on the man she adores to catch her when she does?