All or Nothing(32)

“You might as well get used to talking to Kennedy here,” my father was saying. “In a couple of election cycles, he’ll be the one making the run for mayor of Abbott Springs.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the blue eyes staring back at me from the mural. Bree was right. I wasn’t living my life as my own, and only because I was too scared to take a chance. Some things you needed to have faith in. Sometimes you needed to leap without looking.

“That’s wonderful,” Harvey said.

“Carrying on a legacy,” Grant chimed in.

“Actually—”

“We just have to show him the ropes and let him know how this town runs,” my dad said. “Then in maybe thirty years, he’ll be preparing his son to run for office.”

“No.” I barked the word and I didn’t know if it shocked me or my father more.

Harvey forced an awkward laugh. “Oh, he’s not ready to think about children just yet.”

“Take your time,” Grant said. “Trust me. Nothing’s better than those days as a single young man.”

“No,” I repeated, gentler this time. “I appreciate your faith in me, but I’m not going to be coming back to Abbott Springs after graduation. I won’t be taking the position as vice president of Hale Construction, Dad, and I’m not interested in being mayor. Not right now at least. Maybe when I’m much older, but I need to live my own life first.”

My father forced a laugh. “We’ll talk about this another time, son.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t want to disappoint you, but this isn’t what I want for my life. I love football and I want to give a career as a pro a try.”

My father sputtered. “But you’re not even a draft prospect.”

“No one at Waskeegee Tech is a draft prospect. And I might fail,” I said with a shrug. “Or maybe I can work my ass off and earn a chance at my dream.”

“That’s amazing, Kennedy,” Harvey said. “You’re a talented young man. I had no idea you were interested in pursuing professional football. I’m pleased to hear this.”

Grant clapped his hands together. “An Abbott Springs native playing in the NFL. I like the sound of that.”

My father’s jaw was tight and I could see the frustration in his eyes. “Pipe dreams are a waste of time. Kennedy’s just feeling idealistic after a weekend with his friends. We have a legacy.”

I tucked my hands in my pockets. I thought this would be the hardest thing I’d ever done, but instead of feeling weighed down by my confession, I felt weightless. “This is something I have to do.”

“Grant, Harvey, excuse me while I talk to my son?”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I can’t talk now. I have a plane to catch.”

“A plane?”

I nodded. “I can’t let the girl I love move to Paris without telling her how I feel.” When I turned to the door, Mom was staring at me with wide eyes.

She grabbed me into a hug. “I’m proud of you,” she whispered. “You go after that life you want, Kennedy.”

I squeezed her hard in return. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Get Bree and bring her back here. You know as well as I do that she doesn’t want to be in Paris.”

“I know,” I said softly, swallowing.

“Does she love you too?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Mom. But I’d rather take the risk and fail than never have a chance with her.”

She wiped a tear from her cheek and nodded. “Tell me if you need anything.”

After another hug, I ran back to the house, snow crunching under my feet the whole way. I wouldn’t make it to the airport in time to catch her plane but I would be right behind her. I’d find her in Paris and I would tell her how I felt.

My chest burned at the thought of what she might say, all the reasons she might turn me down. Again. But it was a risk worth taking.

When I got home, I took the stairs two at a time to my bedroom, but when I stepped in, I froze. Bree was sitting on the edge of my bed in a gray sweater and jeans that hugged her long legs, her hands folded in her lap, and I was so damn happy to see her. I just wanted to draw her into my arms and throw all my fear and longing and hope into kissing her. The moment I unfroze and took a step forward, she put up her hand to stop me.

“Back in October,” she began, and my heart sank, “I should have done it like this. I should have come to you and told you how I felt. I never should have expected you to be ready to leap when you didn’t even know there was a reason to try.”

“No, I shouldn’t have—”