A new song begins, a slow song about whiskey, if my ears are working right, and I chuckle to myself. The ode to beer I wrote one particularly bad night could hit gold if I turned it into a country song. Maybe lyric writing is in my future.
The crowd in front of us parts, and I finally catch a glimpse of Peyton. Cade follows my gaze and says, “I take it you’ve decided what you’re doing.”
I nod, my mouth suddenly parched from the sight of her. “That’s why I’m here.”
She hasn’t noticed me yet, so I take a moment to drink her in. She’s absolutely gorgeous. She always is, and her dress clings in just the right places, but it’s her face that almost brings me to my knees. Her eyes are brighter than I’ve ever seen them. Her skin glows. And a smile as big as the stupid belt buckle I’m wearing spreads across her mouth.
Confidence looks damn good on her.
Peyton laughs with the old man in front, and jealousy tightens my gut. It’s dumb, I realize that, but I want to be the reason for all of her laughs. She shakes her head, smiling, and her gaze drifts over to me. She instantly freezes.
I’ve had girls check me out before. It’s an ego boost, especially when it’s a girl you’re into, but this is Peyton, and I’m not just into her… I’m in love with her. And I’m standing here in a ridiculous outfit that itches.
A flush brightens her cheeks, which I’m assuming is a good thing, and her eyes widen as she whispers something to her mom. She excuses herself from the old man and as she makes her way toward me, Mrs. Grace looks over and sends me a thumbs-up.
I head out to meet her halfway, and we meet toward the edge of the dance floor, couples surrounding us on either side.
“Wow, you look—”
“Congratulations on—”
We laugh and take turns motioning for the other to speak. I win when I say, “Ladies first,” and feel a drop of sweat glide down my temple. Damn these hats are hot.
“Congratulations on the win today,” she says, her blush deepening. “Dad called us earlier. I’m so happy for you, Justin.” Then she tilts her head, sort of closing one eye, and asks, “But…how are you here? How did you even know…?”
“Cade,” I answer, nodding toward him behind us. He lifts his cup in the air and I turn back to Peyton. “He also sent me a video of your ride. You were incredible out there.”
Peyton beams. “It felt incredible! I wasn’t supposed to go that fast, it was only an exhibition ride. But, no guts no glory, right?” She bites at the corner of her lip and glances at her feet. “Uh, when Dad called to congratulate me, he mentioned they had a ton of scouts out there today. Looks like your draft position is all but guaranteed.”
I shift closer and wait for her to look back up. When she does, I say, “Too bad it doesn’t matter.”
An adorable squiggle forms between her eyes, even as hope fills them. I take her hand, needing to get away from the Footloose crowd, and lead her to the far wall where we can talk easier. I need to make sure she hears me.
When we reach a semi-secluded spot, away from any speakers, I say, “I realized a few things today.”
“What sort of things?” she asks.
“Things like I’m tired of letting my father dictate my life,” I reply. “Wondering when he’ll remember he has an older son. Getting into baseball to begin with just so he’d notice me, or care.”
She takes my hand, her eyes filled with compassion, and I shake my head, kicking myself again over how much time we’ve wasted.
“Sunshine, I’ve been so busy chasing the idea of being drafted that I never bothered to stop and ask myself why. It’s never been a money thing, or even a love of the game thing—I already agreed to play for one of the best organizations in the SEC.”
“But what about playing professionally?” Her eyes shift between mine. “Isn’t that your dream?”
“At one time, it was,” I say, threading my hand through her hair to cup her neck. Her skin is so soft beneath my fingers. “And in four years, as long as no injuries get in the way, I can still enter the draft. On my terms, not some elaborate, attention getting way to earn my father’s respect.” I brush my thumb across her jaw and lower my voice. “Plus, this way I’ll have a degree and can chase my other dream while I’m at it.”
Peyton drops her gaze to my mouth. “You calling me your dream, Carter?”
“Nah.” I grin and say, “I was talking about my writing. Having you next to me is strictly a bonus.”
She laughs at that, throwing her head back and lighting up the whole damn room like she did when I first met her. The day she flipped my entire world off its axis. The couples dancing nearest us stop and stare, and I gape right along with them.
“God, I missed that laugh.”
A mix of pleasure and embarrassment stains Peyton’s cheeks and she glances away as the whiskey song transitions into another slow beat. The restless itch I’ve felt all year flares again beneath my skin, and without hesitation, I pull her in my arms… right where she belongs.