Chapter One
Ridge Benson
Groaning, I turn over in bed. I spent last night with thoughts of Kresslee swimming in my head again.
She isn’t far from them. I’m either dreaming about her or thinking of what she is doing. Either way, she is always in my head.
I haven’t been free from thoughts of her since junior high school, and I doubted my thoughts would be free from her until she was mine.
But there was the biggest issue. She could never be mine. Not in this life, or the next. Not how I longed for it.
No one, not even my dad, my best friends, Rhodes, and Ryker, knew how obsessed I was with Kresslee.
If my best friends knew about Kresslee, they would never let it go. Those two gossip more than old ladies in a beauty shop.
I was thankful for them; they kept me sane and helped get me to where I am today.
Playing in the big leagues of football. It was always the plan to be here. From when I was four years old, I knew football was my life.
That was the first time I picked up a ball, and I had yet to put it down.
My father took me out to the backyard to throw the football, which helped release some of my energy.
Once he saw how focused I was and how it seemed to come naturally to me, he would always be outside with me, whenever he got the chance.
He showed me how to hold the ball and how to throw it into a perfect spiral.
I loved every minute of those lessons. My father was my hero. He still was.
He was a single father. My mother couldn’t handle the pressure as a young mom, and though my parents were both young when I was born, my father stepped up, taking responsibility for his son.
I was always grateful to my dad. He worked hard to get to where he is today, and I never took that for granted.
He supported me in my dreams. Never once letting me down, even though I knew his work as a small-town mechanic was hard.
He would take off early to attend my games, and then, when I was tucked into bed, he would return to work while his mom kept an eye on things for him.
My grandparents are amazing people, too. They also came to every game, even when I only played pee-wee football.
My grandma, Carol, sewed our last name on their shirts that my grandma sewed to mimic a jersey, knowing we couldn’t afford more than the one the school gave me. Wanting to show the world who supported me.
My grandpa, Patrick, could whistle louder than anyone else on the field, and I always knew he was front and center, cheering for me. If it weren’t for them, and my dad, Liam, I doubted I would be where I am today.
I wanted to prove to them that I had reached where I am today. That I could make it to a team in the big leagues, and I had.
I worked my ass off in college, doing my best to get my degree and keep my focus on the field.
The girls at school didn’t love that, but my heart was already someone else’s.
She had held my heart in her hands for years. I was thirteen the first time I saw her across the field.
She was a cheerleader for the rival team we were playing. It wasn’t the first thing I noticed about her, though.
She was tiny. Smaller than most of the other girls she was cheering with, and she was athletic. She ran fast, then twisted her body a few times in some backflips, and I could only stare in shock until she stood back up, waving at the crowd.
She fixed her dark brown ponytail of curls, then waved once more as she picked up the small pom-poms she dropped.
She looked over at me, her eyes catching mine, and that one look was all it took for me.
