The Quarterback (The Team, #2)

by Tal Bauer

that felt like giddiness, like he’d rolled in sunshine and blue sky and a burst of Texas bluebonnets.

That effortless care, that kind regard. It was so easy for Nick to be awesome, like he was kind and thoughtful and caring so often that he never had to think about it. The right thing, the perfect thing, just came to him. His affection was like a star, and Colton was caught in his gravity.

“Oh, cowboy. Il n’y a que toi qui me fait sourire.” “J’allais dire la même chose, mon amour.”

Oh cowboy it's only you who makes me smile I was going to say the same thing my love

In six months, he’d changed in ways both obvious and obscure. He’d fallen for a man and opened himself up to the exquisite ravages of love. He’d uncovered dusty corners of his psyche, forced sunlight into crevices that had withered in silence for the length of his life.

White-hot, ignite the stars, watch Colton sleep to hold on to every single moment. Dreams he wouldn’t let himself color in, as if refusing to imagine them would stop his heart from falling that much farther. “Happier than I’ve ever been. I didn’t know I could feel this way for anyone.

Colton crushed his lips to Nick’s as he wrapped him in his arms. Nick clung to him, their bodies aligning and finding all the ways they fit so perfectly together, like they were made for each other: Nick’s body and his, Nick’s heart and his, Nick filling up the empty spaces in his soul like he’d filled up the empty spaces in Nick’s. Something invisible connected them, a tie that ran from his heart to Nick’s and back. It was battered and frayed now, but still there. Still strong.