People were generally selfish. People who cheated on their spouses were the most selfish people I could think of. Yet it happened all the time. It seemed to be the norm now. Maybe we as humans were getting more selfish.
“I think if he’d taken a moment to consider who all he was hurting, he would never have done it.”
Brady nodded. “So he’s a selfish bastard.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. Because the truth was the truth.
“I can’t remember if football was my dream or my dad’s. All I can remember was having a football in my hands since I could walk. But did I choose that or was it forced upon me?”
He was questioning everything now. I didn’t blame him. He hated his father because he was hurt. Wanting to rid yourself of everything to do with the person who’d hurt you was common. It made sense.
“Do you love football? Does being on the field fulfill something inside you? Does throwing a pass and seeing it land in the receiver’s hands make you feel like you accomplished something?”
He didn’t reply right away. I waited in the quiet for him to think about it. Finally he sighed. “Yeah.”
That was his answer. “Then it’s your dream. No one can take your dream, Brady. They can share it with you or want to be a part of it, but at the end of the day it’s yours. You did it. You achieved it. It’s yours. No one else can lay claim to it.”
He turned his head to look at me. His eyes were almost too pretty under the moonlight. I didn’t tell him that, though. I figured he’d take offense to be referred to as pretty in any way.
“Can your parents see us?”
I shook my head. “No. Why?”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine while his hand cupped my jawline. It was gentle yet took my breath away. I let the cool night air engulf my now-heated body as I leaned into him. His taste was always minty. His lips always soft yet firm. In this moment I wondered where I’d be right now if Brady Higgens hadn’t walked back into my life. He was changing me. Teaching me. Opening my world back up.
When he pulled back, it was just a breath of distance. “What would I do without you?” he asked.
I had just been thinking the same thing.
“Fate stepped in and we won’t ever have to know the answer to that question.”
He grinned and pressed one more kiss to my lips. “I need to send fate a thank-you card. Or a fruit basket,” he teased against my cheek as he brushed a kiss there.
Smiling, I wondered why it couldn’t be this easy. This simple all the time. Just us. No pain or turmoil. No disaster waiting just ahead. But then it wouldn’t be life, would it?
I Was Convinced She May Actually Be Perfect
CHAPTER 40
BRADY
The call I had with my mom last night when I told her I would be sleeping over at Riley’s didn’t go well. She knew something was wrong. My dad and I had always been close. This rift between us was confusing her, and the more I kept the reasons why inside, the angrier I got. My hate for the man I’d once loved was intensifying.
I didn’t sleep well, and when Mrs. Young walked into the living room this morning I was already awake with my history assignment in my lap, working on it.
“You’re up early,” she said. “I thought with the late night y’all had outside you’d still be sleeping.”
“No, ma’am. I needed to get my homework done. I hope we didn’t disturb you last night.”
“Not at all. It does my heart good to see Riley have someone her age around. She’s been without that for so long. Hearing her talk and laugh helps me sleep at night.”
The more I heard Riley’s parents talk about her, the more I was convinced she may actually be perfect. The girl had to have faults. I just couldn’t figure out what they were yet.
“I’ve got biscuits I made up last night in the freezer I’m about to pop in the oven. Bryony loves honey and biscuits, so I make them once a week as a treat. I can get you some coffee while they’re baking.”
“Not a coffee drinker, but thank you,” I told her.
“That’s right. I keep forgetting. What about some milk?”
I set my book down. Didn’t feel right having her wait on me. “I’ll get it. You just point me to the glasses.”
Riley walked into the room just as I stood up. Again her hair was messy from sleep and she looked beautiful.
“You’re an early riser today,” she said with a sleepy smile.
“So are you,” her mother replied.
She shrugged and touched her hip. “My bed buddy kicked me a little too hard in her sleep.”
Her mother chuckled and walked into the kitchen. “Come on in. I’m getting the biscuits going before I leave. Grandmamma is still asleep, but I will get her oats cooking too. She will be up any minute saying she’s hungry.”