“But it’ll be okay… right?”
I swallow hard, staring into those endlessly deep eyes. I want to voice my fears, want to ask the what-ifs. What if it all ends here? What if they send me back? What if that’s it—no more shows, no more Ty, no more… us?
But I can’t say that out loud. I can’t put it into the air. I need to stay sane. Positive. For his sake. For my fucking own. Because if we go down that road—if we give those doubts power… Yeah, no… Not going to happen.
“It has to be,” I say, determined. “If there was ever a time to trust my dad, it’s now, right? He says it’ll be okay. So it’s going to be okay.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along my jaw before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Then let’s stop spiraling for a sec. Gimme something else, tell me something new.”
“Better yet,” I say, brushing my fingers through his hair, “I’m gonnawriteyou something new. I have this melody stuck in my head because of you... could be perfect for the second album.”
“Second?” He raises his brows as his fingers trace my happy trail to my happy place. “Your first one just went live yesterday.”
My grin spreads wide. “Gotta keep living the dream, right?”
“You are, Jacie baby. Youareliving the dream, and I’m dreaming it right alongside you. Always.”
“Always,” I vow, letting my forehead rest against his, letting the promise sink deep into my bones.
Always.
Even if everything falls apart… I will find my way back to him.
Always and fucking forever.
ELEVEN
Thenextmonthgoesby in a fucking blur.
Before I can even comprehend it, all those days that dragged so freaking slowly this summer somehow start flying by at warp speed. I’m three weeks into my second-to-last semester of college, and my roommates Lamar, Tuck, and Miles, and I are walking across campus after winning the first game of the season.
“Look at us seniors, being the kings of the campus. Everyone’s looking at us,” Lamar muses as we stroll toward our favorite bar, Yettie’s, for a cold drink and some well-deserved post-game dinner filled with glorious carbs and fried shit. After a match it’scheat day because I need to refuel, and I’m all here for it. The sun is setting behind the palm trees, casting everything in that warm, golden glow that makes the campus look almost cinematic, but also makes it feel like home, having had this view my entire life on the West Coast.
“They always do,” Tuck mumbles, pushing his blondish hair back before pulling a Tigers cap over it. “But speak for yourself. I’ve got a whole damn year to go after you guys.”
“Ah, my precious little junior,” Lamar sighs dramatically, slinging his free arm around him. “Forever stuck in the purgatory of mediocrity, always lagging in the shadows of your superiors.”
Tuck rolls his eyes and shrugs his arm off. “One more year of mediocrity sounds better than flunking senior year because you forgot college requiresstudying. I haven’t seen you around the last couple of nights.”
I cock my head at that. I’ve been buried in my own textbooks all week, locking myself in my room whenever I get a couple of hours to actually study, so I haven’t noticed much. Even just a few weeks in, it’s already crystal clear that senior year is going to be a bitch. So where Lamar found the time to go off gallivanting with who-the-fuck-ever is beyond me.
The first few weeks of classes, studying and training, topped-off with our first game tonight, fuckingflewby. And honestly? I’m doing kind of okay, better than during summer break, that’s for sure. Now that I’ve got more going on, more to focus on besides pining after my boyfriend as a lovesick fool, the ache isn’t nearly as bad. Putting most of my attention on the season helps, and having a clear deadline in place before I see him again (five more weeks to be exact) is also a perk.
Not that I don’t miss him, my Jace. Fuck, my heart still hurts just thinking about him. But the more I have on my plate, the easier it gets to breathe. And shit—he’s so fucking busy himself.All that time he used to spend lounging on the bus, complaining he was bored and needed something to do? Yeah, that ship hasdefinitelysailed.
Everywhere the band goes now, it’s interviews, photoshoots, meet-and-greets—you name it. And if they finally get a second to breathe on the bus, they’re working on the new album, new song, new everything.
Still, he always finds time to talk to me every day. Even if it’s just for a few minutes.
Meanwhile, I’m back here, trying to keep my shit together, juggling too many classes, never too much football, friends who pull shit, two ducks, and one guinea pig.
The owner of said guinea pig waves to some passersby, doing some elaborate half-wave, half-curtsy thing. “Hello! How are you on this fine day, my lovely peasants?”
“You’re making it worse,” I mutter, elbowing Lam when a group of girls dressed in orange and black Tiger jerseys stare at him like they’re wondering what meds he forgot to take. “And they’re not looking because we’re us—or maybe they are—but they’re probably wondering why the guys who just bagged the game are carryingducks.”
Right on cue, Patrice lets out a hard quack in my arms, nestled snugly against my chest.
I pet her soft head. “Good girl. We’re almost there and then you can relax.” I eye Lamar, who has Patrick under his beefy arm like a football, his preferred way of carrying him around. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to bring them to the bar again? You know Gus won’t let them in. He almost gave you a permanent ban last week.”
