False Start (Eastshore Tigers Book 2) (20 page)

D
ante’s mom
pulls out all the stops for his graduation party.

With my help—because I’m tall enough to hang the banners and streamers—she decorates the entire apartment. She spent last night making a huge cake. It’s so big it’s made up of multiple regular-sized cakes that completely dominate the kitchen table. She would’ve tried to make dinner, too, but I convinced her to let me bring my grill out to the parking lot and just set up a line for burgers.

Since she decided to invite twenty football players, along with Dante’s extended family and my sister, she agreed.

It’s the Sunday after graduation, and Lydia and I work on last minute details with some of the other early guests while Dante and his mom go to church.

Trent gives the heads up that they’re home, and we suddenly realize there isn’t time to hide anywhere. So we just stand awkwardly, and I swear nobody breathes as the key turns in the lock.

When Dante steps through, it’s a ringing chorus of “Surprise!”

“Jesus Christ,” he exclaims, clutching his chest.

His mother smacks him on the arm. “Watch your mouth.”

She’s beaming the whole time, though, and Dante quickly figures out she was the instigator. He catches my gaze next, though, and I just shrug. He gives me a look that tells me just how much he appreciates my ability to hang decorations.

Despite the crowd, Dante and I manage to stick close together through most of the celebration. He helps me serve up burgers in the parking lot—something that ends up drawing out other tenants—and he makes sure I’m standing right by his side when he cuts the cake.

At my family’s parties, I felt like a part of the décor, destined to make the bare walls look slightly more attractive without causing too much of a stir. But here, I feel like I’m at the center of the excitement, standing right beside Dante.

I know he’s the reason for it all. He may have said I pushed him to become a better person, but the same is true for me. I know what’s important to me now, and it’s the people in this room. My friends, my teammates, my family. My other half.

There’s only one possible snag. Dante still hasn’t decided what he wants to do, and the draft is coming up fast.

I know we can make it work, but the thought of not having him here kills me. I know it kills his mom, too. She already told me she expects me to still come over for Sunday dinners even when Dante is away, and I plan to.

But the rest of the family sees no reason to step around it, and eventually his uncle asks, “So, your agent have any idea where you’re going to end up?”

The process of agency was pretty quick for Dante. Someone approached him immediately after the Ole Miss game and offered to represent him. Since then, it’s been a non-stop parade of calls.

“Actually, yeah,” he says.

My breath seizes in my lungs and I look at him in confusion. He would’ve told me if he’d gotten any indication of where he might go, right?

“I’ll be staying here,” he says with a smile.

But that only ups my confusion. “So he’s getting you a spot with the Jags?”

That’s the best we could’ve hoped for. Jacksonville is only a half hour drive away. Dante can come back here whenever he isn’t on the road.

But he shakes his head, and his smile turns into a grin.

“He didn’t get me anything. I sent him packing.”

Silence falls over the room. I’m the first one to break it.

“You
what
?”

His family and our teammates follow suit. His mom is the only one who doesn’t say anything. She just smiles.

“I don’t need an agent because I’m not going into the NFL. It’s not for me.”

Everyone else loses their shit. But slowly it begins to dawn on me. Too slowly, really, and I’m a bit embarrassed by it, considering how quickly his mom understood.

“I accepted a full-time position at the Boys’ Club. I’ll be supervising the youth sports program there, and coaching the basketball and football teams.”

My smile only grows. I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze; a silent way to let him know I support him completely.

I’m not the only one. The room practically closes in around him, and everyone congratulates him. Sure, some of our teammates give him a hard time, but they’re still our family.

At the end of the day, once nearly everyone else has gone home, I sit with Dante on the couch. His arm is slung over my shoulders, and I lean against him.

“I’m proud of you,” I say after a long, comfortable silence. “And selfishly relieved.”

He laughs, and I feel the sound vibrate through his chest. “It’s your fault.”

I pull back to look at him.

“Well, you and Mom. You made me realize there was more than one path out there. And this is the one I want to be on. With you.”

I smile at him, then lean in and press my lips to his.

“Me, too.”

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