“So you’re still not going to talk to him?”
“Nope.” I put the Xbox game back on the shelf, trying to remember if Shane has it already.
“Nope? That’s all you’re going to give me?”
“Yup.” I furrow my brow in indecision as I look around the various possible presents at Target.
“Are you going to say more than one word for an answer?”
“Hmm.” I stall for a moment. “What do you get a sixteen year old boy for his birthday?”
“Beats me. I realize avoidance is really your thing right now, but you’re an idiot if you think that you’re going to be able to steer clear of him at the race.”
“I’ve done a pretty good job so far and after yesterday, I’ve got enough of a reason to keep avoiding him,” I shrug, not really wanting to have this conversation with Haddie. I just want to get Shane’s birthday present, and then go home and shower before my shift and Shane’s birthday party.
I hear Haddie’s loud sigh of frustration but ignore it. “Ry, you’ve got to talk to him. You’re miserable. You said yourself he said nothing happened.”
I snort in jest. “’He’ being the operative word Haddie.” I say, turning to her, a chill in my voice as a result of her constant meddling in regards to how I’m handling the relationship that I no longer have with Colton. “Put yourself in my shoes. Let’s say that you went to talk to the guy you’re seeing and some long-legged bimbo, the one who has made it crystal clear to you in previous conversations that she wants your man, opens his door. In the morning. The only thing she is wearing is his T-shirt. Definitely no bra. And your boyfriend comes to answer the door, buttoning up his jeans, happy trail showing and then some to let you know that he was naked just prior to that moment. You realize that Long-Legged-Bimbo is most likely wearing the T-shirt that is missing from your boyfriend’s bare chest. You ask said boyfriend what the hell is going on, and you can see his mind trying to figure out how to explain what you’ve just seen.” I shove another game back on the shelf. “As he’s denying nothing happened, a condom wrapper falls from his pocket. He still claims nothing happened. I believe the actual words he used were absolutely nothing happened, but push him a little—get him flustered—and oops, out slips that it was just a kiss. Only a kiss. I guarantee if I push him a little harder, more truths will spill out. Nothing happened my ass!”
“There could be a perfectly good reason…” she throws in there but stops when I glare at her.
“That’s what I thought.”
“I just hate seeing you like this.” She angles her head at me and twists her lips. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from, Ry, I do. I really do, but I wouldn’t be a good friend if I just sat back and watched you make a mistake. I think you’re so upset—and rightfully so—at what happened that you’re not seeing the forest through the trees right now. You need to talk to him and hear him out. I mean the guy is still chasing after you relentlessly.”
I raise my eyebrows in agitation, my feathers automatically ruffled. “Guilt will do that to you,” I mutter as I move on looking at other possible gift options.
“It will,” she agrees, “but so will being falsely accused of something.” I peer up from the case of iPods and accessories, meeting her eyes. She reaches out and places a hand on my upper arm. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m watching his non-stop attempts to get your attention. Shit, he’s been to our house three times in the last week trying to get you to listen to him. I’m not going to lie to him anymore for you and tell him you’re not home. I know you’re scared to let him back in again, but I think that fear might be healthy. The man’s got it bad for you. Just like you do him. Please, keep that in mind.”
I stare at her for a moment and then turn back to the case, needing a minute to digest what the one person that knows me better than anyone else has just said. “I’ll think about it,” is all I can manage. “Am I missing something here? Why are you pushing this so hard when you are the queen of moving on to the next guy when there is the smallest transgression let alone the guy screwing someone else? I just don’t get it.”
“Because he makes you happy. He challenges you. Pushes you outside your comfort zone. Makes you feel again—both good and bad—but at least you’re feeling. How can I not when in the short time you’ve been together, you’ve come back to life again?” She throws a box of cereal in the cart I’m pushing. “I know I’m supposed to side whole-heartedly with you because you’re my best friend, but I’m holding out hope.”
I try and let her words sink in. “You didn’t see what I saw, Haddie. And let’s face it, words mean nothing. One minute he says nothing happened and then the next that it was just a kiss, but you know what? Something did happen, and I’m not just talking about between him and Tawny. I told him I loved him—and the something that happened was him running away and turning to another woman.” My voice cracks on my last words, my resolve weakening. “I understand that he might have issues because of his past—I get that. Running away for a while to figure your head out is one thing, but running to another woman? That’s unacceptable.”
“I’ve never known you to be so hard on someone. To not give him the benefit of the doubt. From what you said, he seems to be as miserable as you are.”
“We’re done here,” I tell her, and I mean more than just the shopping. I don’t want to listen to her sympathize with Colton any more. I roll my eyes on a sigh as Haddie steps in front of the cart to block me.
“A man like Colton isn’t going to wait around forever,” she warns. “You need to figure out what you want or else you’re going run the risk of losing him. Sometimes when you love someone, you have to do and say things you never thought you ever would—like forgiving. It sucks donkeys, but that’s just the way it is.” She steps to the side of the cart, her eyes steadfast on mine. “There’s a fine line between being stubborn and being stupid, Rylee,”
“Hmpf,” is all I manage to say in response, pushing the cart past her, but her words hit their target. I blow out a long breath as I fight back the tears threatening and the images that flood my memory. I struggle to figure out where exactly that line is. At what point do I actually open myself up and listen to Colton’s explanations with the possibility of believing him? And at what part of that process do I become stupid for either forgiving or not forgiving him. Am I willing to let the man I love walk away on principal alone?
It’s a no win situation, and I’m so sick of thinking about it and dwelling over it. Seeing as how I will be spending time with him and his team in St. Petersburg starting Thursday, I think I’ll have more than ample time to dwell some more on it then. Right now, I just want to buy Shane his birthday present and go enjoy his party without the complication of Colton’s presence.
F*ck! I groan internally. I’m being a coward and I know it. I’m just so afraid to forgive and get hurt again. To get sucked up in the tornado that is Colton and be hurled back into emotional suicide. I laid myself out bare and he chewed me up and spit me out just like Tawny said he would. But what if Haddie’s right? What if I’m f*cking this up? What if he didn’t do it?
And it’s in the middle of my self-deprecation that I look up and my eyes catch the latest issue of People. And there he is—the current cause of my misery and schizophrenic emotional state—gracing the cover of the magazine. A candid shot of him and Cassandra Miller together at a party.
The pang hits me in a flash and I do my best to recover quickly. Unfortunately I’ve been getting good at it over the past few days.
“As miserable as I am?” I question Haddie, sarcasm rich in my voice. I try to tear my eyes away but they won’t budge. They scrape over every detail of the picture. “Yeah he looks like he’s really suffering.”
Haddie sighs in exasperation. “Ry, it was a charity auction. One that you were supposed to attend as his date if I recall, and I read online that he showed up alone.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s bad enough to think of him with Tawny, but now I have to push the image of Cassie out of my head too. “Arriving alone and leaving alone are two completely different things,” I respond wryly, forcing my eyes from the cover.
“Ry—”
“Just drop it, Haddie,” I say, knowing I’m being irrational but so beyond caring any more.
Haddie and I chat about everything but Colton as we leave the store, our earlier conversation tucked away for me to ponder later and a new set of noise canceling head phones and an iTunes gift card for Shane under my arm. Haddie and I are a few feet from my car when I hear, “Excuse me, Miss?”
I glance at Haddie before turning to the voice at my back, suddenly grateful that Haddie asked to accompany me on my errand. There is nothing more unnerving to a female than a random man approaching you in a parking lot when you’re alone. “Can I help you?” I ask the gentleman as he nears me. He’s of average height with a baseball cap covering his longish brown hair and eyes masked behind a pair of blacked out sunglasses. He looks completely normal, but he still makes me uncomfortable. Something about him seems familiar, but I know I’ve never met him before.
“Are you...no, you couldn’t be?” he says in a uniquely sounding grate of a voice while shaking his head.
“Excuse me?”
“You look like that young lady that was featured in the paper with those orphaned kids and that racing guy. Was that you?”
His comment surprises me. I look at him for a moment thinking how to best respond and trying to figure out why he’d remember that particular article. Odd but possible. “Uh…yeah.”
He just tilts his head and despite not being able to see his eyes behind his dark lenses, I get the distinct feeling that he is running his eyes over the length of my body and it unnerves me. Just as I’m about to say screw this and get in the car, he speaks again. “What a great program you have there. Just thought I’d let you know.”
“Thanks,” I say absently as I climb in my car, dismissing him and breathing a sigh of relief when he walks away without another word.
Haddie looks over at me, concern etched in her eyes. “Creepy,” she mutters, and I can’t help but agree.
“Not yet!” I chastise Shane as he begs again to open one of his presents.
“Oh c’mon, Ry,” he flashes his lady killer grin at me. “Can’t I at least open one?”
“Nope! No presents are being opened until after cake. You have to make a wish first!” I smirk as I finish the last portion of dinner clean-up. “Besides, you already opened the presents from your friends last night when you all went to the movies.”
“Can’t fault a guy for trying,” he says as he sits on a barstool.
“What’d you guys see?”
His eyes light up like a normal sixteen-year-old boy at the mention of his coed movie night out, and it warms my heart. This kid is a heartbreaker, and I remind myself to speak to Jackson about having a little man-to-man with him about being responsible. “That new zombie movie. It was way cool!”
“Mmm-hmm…did Sophie go with you guys?” His cheeks redden at her name, and I know that Jackson definitely needs to have that chat soon.
Shane fills me in on the details about his evening while the rest of the boys are outside with Dane, Bailey, Jackson, and Austin—the other counselors here to help celebrate. They are decorating the patio area for the birthday party, as is our practiced tradition here at The House.
“Okay, we’re ready for the birthday boy!” Austin announces as he enters the kitchen. Shane rolls his eyes at the babyish idea of a birthday party, but I know deep down he secretly enjoys the fuss.
We head out to the patio where streamers and balloons hang haphazardly yet affectionately. It’s obvious that the younger boys helped with decorating. A cake sits on one table and another has a small gathering of birthday presents on it. Shane smiles brightly at the sight and at the chorus of cheers that erupt when he walks through the doorway.
We visit for a bit and play childish party games because for these kids nothing is silly. They’ve missed out on numerous ridiculous traditions in their lifetimes, and we want to try and provide such things for them here. After pin the tail on the donkey, we decide it’s time for cake.
“Oops, I forgot the party plates,” Bailey whispers to me as she places seventeen candles on the cake.
“I’ll get them!” Scooter pipes up.
“No! I’ve got them,” I say quickly as Bailey looks at me oddly. “All the stuff for the Easter baskets are in the same cabinet,” I whisper to her, not wanting Scooter to accidentally see the Easter Bunny’s secret stash. She just smiles and calls him back to help her.
It takes me a while to get the plates out of the cabinet in the garage because I move and re-stash the Easter garb onto a higher shelf and place some stuff in front of it for better hiding. Austin is walking down the hall to find me when I come back in the door from the garage to the house.
“Everything okay?” he asks, his English accent turning the corners of my mouth up a tad. He really is the epitome of handsome with his blond hair and golden skin and very serious girlfriend whom I’ve come to call a friend.
“Yeah.” I smile. As we walk through the great room and out toward the back door, he slings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close into his side to whisper what he got Shane for his birthday as we walk onto the patio. I laugh out loud as he tells me about his gag gift and then his real gift, when I refocus my attention on the party. And although it is completely innocent, Austin’s mouth is nuzzled into my ear divulging his birthday present secrets when I raise my head and surprisingly meet Colton’s eyes across the yard.
I feel like the world falls out beneath my feet, my heart staggering in my chest and breath catching in my throat. His comments mingled with Haddie’s mix and meld in my head, and every part of my body and soul wants every part of his right now. I want the complications gone, the images in my head of him and Tawny to vanish, and to just be back to where we were with him shaving in my bathroom with the pink handle of my razor in his hand.
And as much as I want to see him again regardless of the pain his presence causes, I can’t find it in me to forgive what he did. Wouldn’t it just happen again?
His eyes hold mine for a beat, shooting daggers at Austin and his arm draped on my shoulder, before turning back to his conversation with of all people, intern Bailey. Yes, that Bailey. The girl I believe he’d messed around with prior to helping me out of the storage closet that first night we met. And even though Colton keeps glancing over at me, Bailey is clueless, all of her blatant flirting focused solely on him. My stomach revolts when I see her place a hand on his bicep and smile suggestively up at him.
“Someone didn’t get the memo,” Dane whispers in my ear as Austin goes to help Ricky with something.
“What?”
“Bailey didn’t seem to get the memo that Colton’s no longer on the market.”
“She can have him.” I snort, rolling my eyes as I see him dart another glance over at me. Dane looks at me oddly, and I realize that I’ve let our little no-longer-seeing-each other predicament slip. I’ve purposely kept what has happened quiet, not wanting anyone at the company to get wind that Colton and I are at odds so it wouldn’t get back to Teddy. It’s really been easy since I never spoke about it anyway; rather I just let the rumors run without confirming or denying them.
“Uh-oh.” Dane smirks, always one for juicy gossip. “Sounds like trouble in paradise.”
“Paradise is most definitely not the word I’d use to describe it,” I murmur, unable to take my eyes off of Colton. “Try a sinking ship without life preservers and a whole shitload of issues.”
“Everybody’s got issues, honey. Too bad he doesn’t swing my way because I could definitely take care of any mommy issues he may have by making sure he tends to my big daddy issue if you catch my drift.” He wags his eyebrows playfully.
“Eew gross!” I slap his shoulder but burst out laughing. I can’t help it. It’s the first good laugh I’ve had in weeks, and it feels good to just let go.
“I have a feeling there are going to be fireworks in St. Petersburg, and it’s nowhere near the fourth of July.” Dane snickers.
I have a serious case of the giggles, my catharsis over my pent up emotions happening at the oddest time, and several of the boys look at me as if I’ve lost my marbles. “Okay...c’mon you guys,” I say, struggling to contain my laughter, “it’s time to cut the cake.”
Everyone gathers around the table, Shane sitting in front of the cake as we light the candles and sing to him. His face full of excitement when he closes his eyes to make his wish, and I wonder what it is he is hoping for. The cake is cut and everyone is enjoying a piece, so I slip inside to bring the ice cream back to the freezer and clean off the knife. I shut the freezer door and jump out of my skin when I see Colton standing there in the kitchen.
“Who’s the Brit?”
“Jesus! You scared me!”
I keep my hand on the refrigerator handle, unsure what to do as we just stare at each other. Several times over the past few weeks, I’ve wished that I could rewind time and take back those three little words that I’d said, but I realize right now in this moment—as he stands before me so achingly beautiful inside and out—that I don’t think I would. I did love him. I still love him. And he needed someone to tell him so that at some point in the future he can look back and accept the fact that he is worthy of such a love. I just don’t know if I’m willing to stick around and accept the pain that I’m positive he’ll inflict on the person willing to assert such a notion.
“Sorry.” He smirks halfheartedly, but the smile never reaches his eyes. Rather, I sense irritation and impatience from him. “Who is he?” he demands again, and there is no masking his annoyance now. “Is he with you because you sure looked cozy? You moved on awfully quick, Rylee.”
Every part of me that sagged in relief at seeing him here tonight is now bristling with irritation. Who the hell does he think he is coming here and accusing me of having a date? If he thought this was the right way to start our conversation, he’s sadly mistaken.
“Seriously, Colton?” I roll my eyes using Shane’s word, not wanting to deal or spend the time to assuage Colton’s fragile ego. When he just stands there and stares at me, I relent for the sake of not making a scene despite the jealous, alpha-male tantrum he’s throwing. “He’s a counselor here.” I huff out.
He angles his head and stares at me, muscle ticking in his jaw, eyes piercing. “Have you f*cked him?”
“That’s none of your goddamn business.” I sneer at him, anger rising as I try to brush past him.
He reaches out and grabs my bicep, holding me in place so my shoulder hits the middle of his chest. I can feel the rapid beat of his heart against my arm and hear his uneven breathing as I stare straight ahead. “Everything about you is my business, Rylee.” A disgusted snort is my only response. “Did you?”
“Hypocrite. Unlike you, Ace, I don’t make a habit of f*cking the people that work for me.” I tilt my chin up and look into his eyes to let him see the anger, hurt, and defiance brimming in mine. The grimace he emotes on his otherwise stoic countenance lets me know I’ve made my point. We just stand like this for a moment, staring at each other. “Why are you here, Colton?” I eventually ask with resignation.
“Shane invited me to his birthday party.” He shrugs, taking his hand from my arm and shoving both hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “I couldn’t let him down just because you refuse to see me.”
What can I say to that? How can I be mad at him for being here, when he’s here for one of the boys?
“And because…” He runs a hand through his hair and steps back while he struggles to figure out what to say next. He blows out an audible breath and is about to speak again when Shane comes barreling into the house.
“We’re going to…open presents now,” he finishes after looking back and forth from Colton and me, his brow furrowing with uncertainty as he tries to figure out the dynamic between the two of us.
I inhale deeply; glad to be saved because I don’t think I’d made my mind up on what to do just yet. My heart tells me I want to listen to him, understand what happened, and figure out where to go from here. But my head, my head tells me, “Quack.”
“Presents!” I repeat as I walk out of the kitchen and brush past Colton without acknowledging his comment.
Shane’s excitement is more than contagious to the rest of us bystanders as he opens his gifts. His eyes are full of excitement, and his smile reflects a teenager who feels loved. I stand on the fringe of the crowd, watching the action and reflecting a bit on what a good job we’re doing here with these boys. It’s odd how sometimes it just hits you, and right now is one of those moments. I lean against the beam of the patio cover as Shane lifts his last present up and shakes it as the little ones yell out what they think it might be.
It’s a flat rectangular box that I hadn’t seen on the table before, and I take a step closer to see what it is, my curiosity getting the better of me. Shane rips the paper off and when he opens the box, a card slides out. He turns the card over in his hand, and when he sees nothing on the envelope, he shrugs and tears it open. I watch his eyes widen and his lips fall open as he reads the words inside. His head snaps up and he searches the partygoers to meet Colton’s eyes. “Seriously?” he asks, incredulity in his voice.
I’m curious as to what’s written in the card and my sight focuses on Colton’s as a shy smile spreads across his lips, and he shakes his head, “Seriously, Shane.”
“You’re shittin’ me?”
“Shane!” Dane snaps out at him in warning, and Shane’s cheeks turn red as he blushes at the reprimand.
Colton laughs out loud. “No, I’m not. Keep your grades up and I will. I promise.”
Still mystified as to what the two of them are talking about, I ease out of the shadows and walk up to Shane. He holds the card out for me to see. The card is a typical birthday card, but it’s the penmanship inside that makes my heart flop.
Happy Birthday, Shane! What I remember the most about turning 16 is wanting desperately to learn how to drive…so this card entitles you to driving lessons—from me. (I get to pick the car though…and the Aston is off limits). Have a good one bud. –Colton
I look down at Shane who still seems like he can’t believe that a famous race car driver has offered up to be his behind-the-wheel instructor. And I see in his eyes the self-worth that Colton has given him in this one offering and bite back the tears that burn my throat. He doesn’t offer him something of material value that he can buy easily, but rather gives Shane something much more valuable—time. Someone to look up to. Someone to spend time with. Colton understands these boys so well and what they need at what times, and yet he can’t comprehend what I need and how I feel about what I walked in to.
Shane gets up and walks over to Colton and shakes his hand to thank him before passing the card to everyone to show them what it says. I look away from observing Shane to see Colton silently watching me. I just shake my head softly at him trying to convey my appreciation for his well thought out gift. He holds my gaze as he slowly walks over to me. I bite my bottom lip in hesitation. My body is filled with a civil war of emotions, and I just don’t know what to do anymore.
Colton places his hand on my lower back, the contact sending my nerves dancing even more than they already are. His signature scent envelops me, and I reflexively part my lips, craving the taste of him that I’ve missed so much.
He leans in to me and asks for the second time tonight, “Can we speak for a moment?” His rasp fills my ears and the warmth of his breath feathers over my cheek.
I step back from him, needing distance to keep a clear head. “Um…I don’t think it’s a good idea…The House isn’t the best place to…” I fumble with the words.
“Don’t care. This won’t take long,” is his only response as he steers me the fringe of activity on the patio. The short reprieve gives my mind time to think. To rationalize. To decide. “I’m talking, you’re listening. Understood?”
I turn to face him and look up at the lines of his magnificent face partially hidden by the shadows of the night. My angel struggling between the dark and the light. I take a fortifying breath before I open my mouth to speak, options and indecision swirling around with mixed emotions. “Colton…” I begin before he can speak and when I see the annoyance flash across his face, I decide to change tactics. Try to protect my heart from further devastation even though it’s crying in protest over what I’m about to do. “There’s nothing to explain.” I shrug; swallowing down the lump clogging my throat so the lies can prevail. “You made it clear from the beginning what was between us. I mistook our physical chemistry for love.” Colton’s eyes narrow and his mouth falls lax at my words. “Typical female mistake. Great sex doesn’t mean love. Sorry about that. I know how much you hate drama, but I realize that you’re right. This would’ve never worked.” I grit my teeth, knowing this is for the best as I watch the confusion flicker across his face. “It’s not like we were exclusive. What you did with Tawny is your business. I may not like it, but that’s the breaks right?”
If I write him off, it might make having to work together less awkward for the both of us despite knowing deep down that having to be beside him when my heart still desires him—hell, when every cell in my body wants him in one way or another—will be brutal.
Trying to prevent the memory of the wounded look in those crystalline green eyes, I start to turn away from him, moving so he can’t see the welling tears or my trembling chin. He reaches out and holds his favored spot on my bicep. “Get back here, Rylee…”
I squeeze my eyes shut at the forlorn sound of my name from his lips and try to infuse nonchalance in my voice when I actually find it. “Thanks for the good time. It was real while it lasted.” I shrug my arm out of his grasp, and only when I open my eyes to walk away do I see Shane watching the interaction, concern in his eyes at the expression on my face.
Colton mutters a curse beneath his breath as I walk away under the pretense of going to help clean up. Rather than going in to the kitchen to wash dishes, I walk right past it and go into the counselors’ room. I sit on the edge of one of the twin beds there and hold my head in my hands.
What did I just do? I try to catch my breath, my conscience and my heart not agreeing with what my head decided was the best course of action. I fall back on the bed and rub my eyes with my hands, a litany of curses falling quietly from my lips as I chastise myself. A soft knock is at the door and before I can sit myself up, Shane pokes his head into the open doorway.
“Rylee?”
“Hey, bud.” I sit up and the smile I think I’m going to have to force comes naturally at the look of concern on his face. “What’s up?” I ask as I pat the spot on the bed next to me. I can tell something is bugging him.
He shuffles over and sits down next to me, eyes angled down as he laces and unlaces his own fingers. “I’m sorry.” He breathes.
“For what?” I’m usually pretty good at following the moods of the boys, but I’m thrown here.
“I just…you’ve been sad…and he makes you happy…usually…so I invited him so that you’d be happy again. And now you’re sad…and it’s because of him. And I…” He clenches his fists and grits his teeth.
Shane’s discomfort is obvious as it hits me what he’s saying. My heart breaks as I realize that he’s invited Colton here to try and cheer me up without knowing he’s the reason I’ve been so somber the past few days. And then I feel guilty because I obviously did let my relationship with Colton affect my work. I reach out and squeeze his hand.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Shane.” I wait until he raises his eyes to mine—eyes of the man he’s becoming but still reflecting the unsettled little boy deep inside. “What makes you think I’ve been sad?”
He just shakes his head, tears starting to collect at the corners of his eyes. “You just have been…” He stops, and I wait for him to finish the thought I can see working its way to his mouth. “My mom was always so sad…always so upset because it was just us two…I never did anything to help…and then…” One day you found her dead with the empty bottles of pills beside her bed. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to make things better…I didn’t realize he’s the one who made it worse.”
“Oh, sweet boy,” I tell him, pulling him into my arms as a lone tear slides down his cheek. My heart swells with the love I have for this boy, so much older than his years for unfathomable reasons but with such a tender heart, trying to make me feel better. “That is one of the nicest things that anyone has ever done for me.” I lean back and frame his face in my hands. “You, Shane—you and the rest of the boys in our family—are what makes me happy on a daily basis.”
“Kay… Well, I don’t have to accept his present if it upsets you,” he offers without a hesitation.
“Don’t be silly.” I pat his leg, the gesture touching me. “Colton and I are fine,” I lie for good measure. “He’s just being a guy.” I get a slight smile out of him with that line despite his eyes still reflecting uncertainty. “Besides, think how cool it’ll be to tell all of your friends that a real race car driver taught you how to drive!”
His grin widens, “I know! It’s so cool!” And once again we are back on even footing. He stands and starts toward the door, my little boy who is growing up so fast.
“Hey, Shane?”
“Yeah?” He stops at the door and turns around.
“Happy birthday, buddy. I football you more than you’ll ever know.”
A sheepish smile spreads across his face, his hair flopping down over his forehead when he just shakes his head and looks at me. “I’m sixteen now. We can stop with the whole football thing.” He pushes his hair out of his eyes as they meet mine. “I love you too,” he says before shrugging as only a sixteen year old can and walking away. I stare after him with a smile plastered on my face, a heart overflowing with love, and tears of joy pooling in my eyes.