The Heartbreaker - Page 70

“Good.” I smile. “Because I don’t know what I’m going to do after graduation, but I know I want to go wherever you are.”

He brings a hand to cup my face and kisses me again, a tender kiss that makes my pulse race.

“Enough with the kissing,” Dad says. “I haven’t even threatened you yet.”

Jagger pulls away with a laugh. “You don’t have to threaten me. I know I don’t deserve your daughter, but I absolutely plan on making it so that she never questions her choices.”

The entire table erupts with excitement and I can’t help but laugh. I don’t remember the last time I felt this happy, if ever.

Epilogue

Jagger

“Last game of the season.” Coach’s words take my attention from the laces I’m tying.

“Last game.” I try for a smile, but I’m not sure I achieve it. Coach takes pity on me and

taps my shoulder before walking away.

Last game. Those are loaded words. Last game means I’m free to do whatever I want now, officially sign with an agent, get signed by a team, or not. It also means a lot of us will never see the field again. Not like this anyway. Not where we are the stars and all eyes are on all of us at all times. Players are already getting offers from sponsors, from shoes to cars. I heard Lawrence got a good deal with a big company. He’s a quarterback though. Those perks are usually reserved for them.

According to Luis, the agent I’m signing with, a lot of teams have been talking about me behind closed doors, saying they’d be lucky to have me on their roster. According to ESPN, there are more than a handful of places I’d fit in. I would love to say I haven’t given it any thought, but the truth is that it’s the only thing I think about these days.

That and Jo, but Jo is a sure thing and I’m not worried about her. If she wasn’t a sure thing she’d be the only thing on my mind.

“Big day.” Jordan walks over with a shit-eating grin on his face. “You ready?”

“I’m always ready.”

“Really? Cause you look like you’re about to throw up.” He chuckles. “Don’t tell me

you’re having second thoughts about this.”

“Never. I just want to make sure we beat the fuck out of Duke so that the aftermath is

that much sweeter.”

“I’m with you on that.” That’s Tucker, who’s walking over now, helmet in hand. “The

entire defensive line is on notice. We’re not letting Pretty Boy make any complete passes today.”

“Good.” I feel myself smile now.

This is the last time we’ll ever play against Duke as the team stands today, and the fact that we get to kick his ass on this day makes me feel twenty times better about it being our final game. Even with that thought and the celebration we have planned for after the fact, the locker room is quiet, the sound of uncertainty and sadness spreading. The only ones who don’t seem as affected are the freshman and red shirts, but that’s to be expected. I can’t blame them for reeling in the opportunity that us being gone will provide for them.

“Coach wants to huddle now,” Brett says, jogging over.

The four of us head to the middle of the locker room and stand around Coach, who’s holding an iPad and waiting for us to settle down. He starts giving us one of his heartfelt speeches and goes around naming every player and commending them on one thing he loves about them. He does this every season, but I find my throat tightening today because this is the last time I’m ever going to be on the field with these guys. It’s the last time a lot of us will be on the field at all. We huddle, arms around each other as Tucker, the team captain, says some more words that make us emotional, and then we’re off, running to the field. I make sure to enjoy the cheers, the boos, and everything in between. I take it all in. It’s the last time I’ll feel this kind of love. I’ve spoken to enough wide receivers in the NFL to know this. Going pro comes with a different kind of responsibility, but none feels like this. These guys and this field will always be my home, regardless of where we end up.

We end up beating Duke 56-24. After the game, when everyone is high-fiving the other team and saying kind words to them, I think about keeping it short with Lawrence, but he pulls me into an unexpected side hug and pats me on the back.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you out in the field in the future,” he says. “I know I fucked up our friendship and don’t deserve your grace, but there’s no bad blood on my part.”

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