First Down (Beyond the Play #1)

by Grace Reilly

There’s only one answer that comes to mind. “Money.” “Stability,” she says, nodding. “Whenever things got hard between me and your father, I reminded myself that he was doing all he could to create a future for us, for our family. So that we could have all of this, long after he retired from playing.” She gestures around the room. “Don’t you want to take care of her? Think about how lucky you are to be able to do that while doing something you love. So many people don’t have that option.”

“I know you’re right,” I say. She is. The best way to take care of Bex—materially, at least—is to play football. “But she has the diner, and she’s committed to it. If she’s there and I’m across the country . . .” “Talk to her about it,” she says. “You can figure something out. Compromise, honey.” “Easier said than done.” She rises from her chair and ...

“James.” “I forgot how short you are.” “Fun-size,” she says. I try to swallow. “Yeah. That’s you, baby.” The amusement bleeds away from her expression. “I’m going to report Darryl.” “Good.”

“I love you,” I can’t help but say. “I love you too,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry my dad made you feel like you couldn’t tell me what happened.”

“I want you to know that I’m always going to choose you.” Her expression shutters. “James.” “I know it’s going to be hard,” I continue. “I know I need to prioritize things better. I know that when I’m on the field, I need to focus on it completely—but when I’m off the field? When I’m with you? I’m choosing you, no matter what.”

“I love you, Bex. I love the way you scrunch up your nose when you’re concentrating. I love your laughter. Your talent with a camera. I love your passion and your loyalty and how fucking smart you are. You’re everything to me. If you asked me to stop playing football, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” She sniffles, shaking her head. “Don’t do that.” “Good. Because I thought about becoming a math teacher, and I don’t know if I’m capable of that.” She laughs wetly. “Probably not, babe.”

“If you need to stay here for the diner and we have to be long-distance, I’ll hustle every single day to make it work. I promise. It doesn’t scare me anymore, because I know that everything will be worthwhile if I get to call you mine.” She looks away, rocking in place as she shivers. Quiet so long I start to get a little worried. “What if I’m not . . . enough?” “What?”

“What if it’s two years in and I’m here and you’re wherever and you realize it’s not worth it? That I’m not worth it?” I take a step forward, pulling her into my arms. I don’t care that I’m supposed to be giving her space to think, she’s cold and upset and I can’t stand that. “You really think that?” I say. “You’re my princess, you’re worth the whole world.” She presse...

“Maybe neither of us are special, but that’s not the point. The point is you’re the best person I’ve ever met, and I wish more than anything that that’s how you saw yourself too.” I reach into my jacket, pulling out the photograph. “I took this a cou...

“I remember this,” she says softly. “That’s how I see you. When I close my eyes before I go to sleep, when I daydream—I imagine you just like that, making beautiful art. Being you.” I reach out, tweaking her earring; she’s wearing the hoops I got her for Christmas. “You’re worth everything, and you can do whatever you want to do, but don’t sell yourself short, either. This is what you deserve to be doing.”

“I need to think,” she says. “Not about us, but about me. About the diner. I made my mom a promise that I would take care of it, and I can’t just . . . does that make sense?” I nod. “I’ll be ready when you are.” She presses her forehead to mine. “Thank you.” I kiss her again, hungry for more of her kisses after nearly two weeks of missing them. “Whatever you need to do, we can handle it. Together.”

“My mom talked to me before the show started. She’s selling the diner.” He pulls me into a hug so quickly I nearly spill the wine on the floor. “No fucking way!” “Yes!” I hug him back, unable to keep myself from laughing. We probably look ridiculous, but right now, I don’t care. The whole gallery could stare, and I wouldn’t give a shit. All that matters right now is him. “Yes. She’s selling it.” His grip on me tightens. “Princess. Please tell me that means what I think it means.”

“Yes,” I murmur against his mouth. I grin, feeling him smile in turn. “Wherever you go, I’m following.”

“Holy shit,” she murmurs, looking a little dazed. I kiss her again. “Fucking gorgeous.” She shakes her head as she rearranges her dress. “I can’t believe you just did that. We’re about to be on television!” I lick her slick from my fingers, relishing in her taste. “I have it worse. I’m hard as hell and just have to live with it.” She shakes her head. “No way. You got yourself into this mess, I refuse to feel sympathetic.”

In less than an hour, Bex and I will know where we’re moving after graduation.

“James,” my new coach says. “Welcome to the Philadelphia Eagles.” “Thank you, sir.” “You ready to work?” I meet Bex’s eyes. She has her hands clasped over her mouth, probably to keep from screaming while I’m on the phone. God, I love her. Philadelphia. We can work with that. I wink at her. “Yes, sir.”

I stare at the check on the countertop. Twenty million dollars. Only my boyfriend would bring home a twenty million dollar signing bonus like it’s nothing, leave it on the counter, and disappear into the shower before even kissing his girlfriend hello. I’m terrified of touching it, like if I do, it will crumble to dust.

“You know him. He isn’t really thinking about it. It’s a means to an end.” “Only rich people talk like that.” He shrugs. “Might need to bump up your rent threshold. I saw your Zillow account.”

“I was being realistic.” He wanders over to the stove, peering underneath the lid of a pot. “There’s realistic, and then there’s depressing. What did you make for dinner?” “Red sauce. And I made cheesecake.”

“I love you,” Cooper says fervently. I roll my eyes fondly as I open the cabinet next to the stove. “I thought you didn’t even like cheesecake.” “I like anything you make.”

“I’m mad at you, you know.” He glances at his brother, who retreats to the kitchen table. “Why?” “This!” I say, grabbing the check and waving it in his face. “What if I spilled tomato sauce on it or threw it out? Who brings home this kind of money and just leaves it on the counter?” He blinks. “We’re having pasta for dinner?” “That’s not the point.” “It smells good. I’m starving.” “James.”

“This is a good thing, honey. We’ll get set up in our new place and put the rest away in the trust. Besides, the check is just for show, the money is already in the account.” I pull back to look at him. “When were you going to, I don’t know, mention the fact they were going to give you this money?” “I thought you’d be excited.” “I am.”

“It’s just . . . that’s a lot of money.” “I know. It’s great. Even if something horrible happens and I don’t play—” I make a soft noise. “Don’t talk like that.” “It’s not going to happen. But we’re set, princess. I wanted to surprise you. When Jessica gave me the news, I couldn’t believe it either.” “Bullshit,”

“No,” I say. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I just don’t want you to surprise me. What’s next? Did you already buy us a house?” “I wouldn’t do that.” “You did this.” “Beckett,” he starts. I bite my lip. Sometimes he’ll call me Beckett in bed if he’s feeling serious. Usually, he doesn’t bother with it when we’re arguing. Instead of deferential, it feels like a reprimand, like a parent calling their child by their full name. “What?” I snap. “We’ve spoken about this before, and you went and did it anyway.” “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you.” “But you did!”

It’s too much. Too much money. Too many implications. “Is this about the diner?” “No.” “Because I’ve apologized for that about a million times.” “I know.” “And this is for both of us.” He gestures between us. “You think I didn’t tell my agent to get the best contract possible for both of us? For our futures? I thought we agreed we were moving forward together. I’m not saving you; I’m just helping.” “We are.” “So why are you looking at me like I did something horrible?”

When we’ve spoken about Philadelphia, it’s always been with the assumption that we’ll be there together. That this room of ours can exist there. I want it, I truly do—but it’s hard not to feel strange when he’s a millionaire and I’m jobless. I love him and I know he loves me, but if we start a life together and it doesn’t work out, what will I do then?

She sighs. “What did you do this time, exactly?” “I just brought home my signing bonus.” She gasps. “As a surprise? Dad told me how much it is.” “Yes, a surprise. But she knew I was getting a bonus.” “Twenty million dollars is not something that just happens. No wonder she flipped out.” I rub my temple. “Yeah, well, it’s not like it changes anything. We were always going to buy a place together.” “Money is important in relationships,” she says. “Keeping news about money from your girlfriend, even if it’s good news, is probably not the best idea, you know?”

“It’s not like it’s a bad thing.” “No,” he says. “But it affects both of us, and I should have told you differently.” “Either we’re in this together, or we’re not, you know? Like the diner. I still can’t believe you did that.”

thought we were going together.” “We are,” I say. “Just . . . maybe I’ll get an apartment, once I have a job. And then we can . . . see.” “We can see,” he repeats flatly. “Does this just apply to living together, or the whole thing?” “Just living together.” I shake my head. “You can’t actually think I’m considering—” “I don’t know,” he interrupts. “Because I thought things were fine, and now we’re having a conversation where I had to use the phrase ‘break up’ twice, which feels pretty fucking awful, by the way.” “I don’t want to break up.” “You sure about that, princess?” “I don’t want to break up!”

“I’m scared!” The words rip themselves from my throat, silencing whatever else he might’ve said. “I’m scared, okay? I don’t want to live with you and get used to it and then suddenly, if it’s gone . . . be alone again.”

“Such a good girl.” She pulls me into another kiss. “Say it again.” “Good girl,” I murmur against her mouth. “I fucking love you.” “I love you too,” she says, stroking my hair. “Sure we have to go out?”

I could just rent something, but I’d rather buy and have the investment, and the thought of having privacy is appealing. Plus, a yard means plenty of room for a dog . . . or for kids, later down the line. Assuming talking about that doesn’t make Bex shy away even more.

I’d have preferred to be left alone for a romantic weekend with my girl, but you don’t go third in the draft in a visible position like quarterback and not gain a certain level of visibility, especially in the age of social media.

“Hey.” “Houses like these are hard to come by.” “It’s perfect.” I turn in his arms so I’m meeting his gaze. “You should buy it.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to live in it alone.” “I looked at more apartments,” I say. “I could get something nice. I’m not sure how close it would be to this neighborhood, but it wouldn’t be too far.” “But you don’t need to.” “I know. But I can’t just be this . . . freeloader in your house. Not contributing anything.” “You’re going to get a job, but money isn’t the only way to contribute.”

“But it’s important that I do. Maybe if we were married already, it would be different, but we’re not there yet. I’ll feel weird living someplace I could never afford to be in without you.” “But that’s the whole point. You’re not without me.” I shake my head. “I’ll spend time here, I’m sure, but . . .” “Space.” “Yeah.” His jaw takes on a harder line. I hold my ground, crossing my arms over my chest. “It wouldn’t be forever.” “I thought that maybe once you saw somewhere you loved, you’d realize . . .” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. “It’s fine. I told you I wouldn’t push.” “Thank you.”

I’m not looking for just any ring. I need one worthy of a princess. My princess. It needs to be the perfect assurance for Bex that we’re in this together, for the long haul.

“It is soon for an engagement.” Cooper nods as he takes a long sip of his drink. “I know we’re here and everything, but are you sure? It hasn’t even been a year.” I just shrug. “Hey, when you know, you know.” “Can’t imagine.” “One day you will.”

“Ever since you fell in love, you sound like Mom.” “I love our mother, and therefore don’t see it as an insult.”

don’t even know if I want to work at a gallery,” I admit. “I don’t know what I want to do at all. That’s part of the problem. Before, I had the diner, and now I know I can do anything, and that’s . . .” “Kind of freaking you out?” “Possibly.” “You have a rich boyfriend who wants you to move in. You don’t have to do anything right away.” I groan. “I can’t feel like I’m taking advantage of him, Laura! It’s not like we’re married, although . . .”

“Really? How do you know?” “When we went to look at this townhouse in Philly—which was gorgeous, by the way—he asked if I’d change my mind about moving in together if we were engaged.” “Holy crap.” “I know.” “This is amazing!”

“You’re going to say yes, right?” I don’t answer. I do know the answer; I want to marry him—eventually—and if he asks, there’s no way I’m saying no. But it feels difficult to imagine being engaged. Having a fancy ring on my finger. Promising to have a future with someone, even if that someone is the man I love. “Bex?” I bite my lip. “I’ll say yes.”

“I love you too,” she says. “And I wish I could hug you right now, as always. But Bex? You’re not going to break up with him. You two are forever, and you know it. Why torture yourself, and him, when you can be happy? You don’t have to have everything figured out to enjoy it.” I sit up. “You’re right.”

Dad taps his phone against the table, pursing his lips. “It hasn’t even been a year.” “Oh, don’t be hypocritical,” Mom says. “We barely dated for a month before you proposed.” I raise my eyebrows. “Seriously? I thought it was a couple years.” “That was the official proposal.”

“We discussed it very soon after we started to date. What did you say again?” Dad kisses her cheek. “I said that I was going to marry you one day.” “And you were quite determined, I remember.” “I knew what I wanted.” “And I know what I want,” I say. “We’re not going to get married right away, but we know we’re it for each other, so why not make it official?” Mom sighs happily. “You’ve always had a romantic side.”

“You’re so beautiful.” I run my hand through his soaking wet hair. “You are.” “You know I want to devour every inch of you, always.” His fingers trace patterns into my inner thighs, teasingly light. “You’re my princess. And princesses always get what they deserve.”

“Princesses deserve to be spoiled.”

“Tell me and I’ll do it, princess. How do you want to be spoiled?” I feel like I’m on fire—but the flames of desire outweigh the ones of embarrassment and nervousness. It’s just James, after all. He might be acting like the devil, but underneath the facade, he’s my devoted boyfriend, and he’d never hurt me. I force myself to look at him as I say it. “I want you to fuck my ass.” “Good girl,” he praises, cupping my cheek. “You’re such a perfect girl for me, Beckett.”

Dad mops his forehead with a handkerchief as he squints at his card. “You gave me a thumbs up as the final score?” “You showed admirable restraint for the first nine,” I say, grinning. “The back nine, I don’t know.” “He gave me a smiley face,” Seb says as he wrings out his socks. Dad shakes his head as he sighs. “They’ve asked me to play at the Pro-Am this year, and clearly, I should save myself the embarrassment.” “Nah,” Cooper says around a swig of beer. “It’s fun even if you play horribly. A lot of NFL guys have been doing it.” Dad gives Cooper a look. “Sure,” he says sarcastically. “A weekend watching Tony Romo charm everyone.” “You could own the awfulness,” I offer. “It’s depressing, how shit my game is.”

“Your father just said you have a serious girlfriend.” “Yeah.” I smile. “Her name’s Bex. We met last year, at McKee.” “Pretty. Is that a ring I just saw?” “He’s proposing soon,” Dad cuts in. “Make sure she’s the right one, kid,” the other guy, Jordan, says. “Saves a lot of heartbreak.” I hold up the ring box. “I’m sure.” “Bex is wonderful,” Dad says, looking right at me as he speaks. “We’re all so thrilled for her to be part of the family.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m glad you think so.” “And no matter how you do it, I’m sure she’ll love it, but care to fill us in?”