The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (93 page)

“
Hey, take a breath,
”
instructs Addie as she squeezes my knee. She
’
s sitting on the opposite side of me, leaving me sandwiched between her and Claire. Sarah is on the opposite side of Claire which puts Hammy in an Addie and Logan sandwich.

How interesting.

“
This is going to be fun,
”
continues Addie, interrupting my thoughts.
“
Don
’
t worry so much. He
’
s the starting quarterback for a reason. He
’
s going to lead us to victory and you
’
ll be so glad you came.
”

I offer her a small smile before looking back down at the field. I watch him take off his helmet and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of his dark auburn hair.
“
I already am,
”
I murmur.

After the national anthem and the coin toss, the game begins. The first quarter flies and five minutes into the second, I remember Addie
’
s comment about how
this is going to be fun
and I cringe. This game is the
opposite
of fun. We
’
re not doing very well. We haven
’
t tanked our chances yet, but we
’
re just barely scraping by. The score is 14-3; Sonny
’
s been sacked
three times
, his passing yards are scoff worthy, and he even managed to fumble the ball.
Sonny has never fumbled the ball
. He isn
’
t perfect, and he has thrown a few interceptions over the last couple of years
—
what QB hasn
’
t?
—
but he
’
s never fumbled the ball. It
’
s been something he could brag about.
Not anymore
. The reality of that truth crushes me.

Two minutes before the half, CSU has possession of the ball. We
’
re on the twenty-yard-line in CU territory, and I
’
m hopeful
—
we
’
re all hopeful
—
that we
’
ll finally score a touchdown. On our second down, Sonny gets sacked again! On third down, he throws an interception
.

I think I might cry
.

CU kicks a field goal just before the half, making the score 17-3.

“
Shit! Is it me, or is this the
worst
game Grayson has ever played? I think you
broke
him!
”
cries Logan as she looks at me incredulously.

“
Hey
—
watch it!
”
Claire bites back with a glare.

I shake my head and bury my face in my hands.
The crazy thing is, I think she
’
s right. I broke him
.
“
She
’
s right,
”
I moan.

“
I have an idea,
”
says Claire.
“
Come with me.
”
I look up at her in question and she offers her hand in response.
“
Right now, get up. We gotta go.
”

I groan as I do what I
’
m told. I surrender to her tug, unsure where we
’
re going and uncertain if I even care. The hope I felt at the beginning of this game is all but gone after Sonny
’
s first half performance. His head is so not in this game and I know that it
’
s my fault
—
which makes it less likely that he
’
ll want to talk to me afterwards. I
’
m so consumed in my thoughts, that I hardly notice when the noise of the crowd seems to die away as we go deeper and deeper into the underbelly of the stadium.

“
Um, Claire? Are we lost?
”

“
Nope.
”

“
Okay, where are we going?
”
I look ahead of me and see a security guard standing in front of a set of double doors. I look to Claire and then back at the guard and my confusion sky rockets.
“
Claire?
”
She ignores me as we approach the man who eyes us with as much confusion as I feel.

“
Can I help you?
”

“
Yeah. We need to get to the locker rooms.
”

“
What?!
”
I cry, my confusion replaced with fear as I let go of her hand.

“
I can
’
t let you through here,
”
says the guard at the same time.

Claire, who isn
’
t afraid of the word
no
fixes him with a pointed look.
“
Who are you rooting for today?
”

“
I bleed green and gold,
”
he says with a smirk.

“
Great! So we
’
re on the same side! Do you realize that we
’
re losing?
”

“
It
’
s been a rough half but we can come back.
”

“
You
’
re right. We can
—
if
you let her in there,
”
she says, pointing at me.

“
What?
”
he and I say together.

Claire turns toward me and places her hands on my shoulders.
“
You need to talk to him. Now. I don
’
t care what you say, but you
’
re the
only one
who can fix his game.
”
She turns her attention back to the guard.
“
She
’
s the only one. You
’
ve got to let her in.
”
He furrows his brow as he looks between the two of us.
“
Please? She
’
s his girlfriend.
”
She points at my shirt and his eyes follow. He hesitates for another minute.
“
For the love of all things good,
let her in!
”

Finally, he turns and opens the door.
“
You have ten minutes. No way you
’
ll make it into the locker rooms, you
’
ll have to wait for him to come out. Go through these doors to the end of the corridor and then take a left; you
’
ll see the tunnel that leads out to the field. If you don
’
t come back, I
’
ll be forced to come and find you. Got it?
”

Suddenly, I can
’
t breathe.
“
Claire, I don
’
t
—”

“
Go! You
’
ll miss him if you don
’
t. He needs you.
”

He needs me?

He needs me.

I nod, pulling courage from the conviction behind her words, and then I run.

The directions given to me to find the tunnel were easy enough, but I simply can
’
t remember them as I make my way down the long corridor. There are places for me to turn all over and I
’
m afraid I
’
ll get so turned around that I won
’
t be able to find my way back, let alone find my way to Sonny. There are people scattered all over the place
—
official looking people
—
and seeing as how I
’
m
obviously
lost and
unofficial
looking, I start to worry that someone will find out I don
’
t belong and escort me out; but then I hear the shuffling of cleats and I freeze.

This is it
, I tell myself, trying to hold on to the courage that got me to the place where I now stand. I inch my way a little closer to the passing players and push myself up on my tiptoes as I look for Sonny
—
I gasp when I spot him.

“
Sonny!
”
I cry out before I can even think about it. He doesn
’
t hear me, so I call out to him again. Still, with the noise of the crowd trickling down the tunnel and the echo of the teams
’
footsteps, he can
’
t hear me.
“
O
’
CONNER!
”
I yell. I know he hears me when he stops dead in his tracks; as soon as he stops, my heart skips a beat.
“
Over here!
”
I call out, jumping up and down and waving my hands like a crazy person
—
which I
’
m beginning to think I am.
I bite my lip when he looks at me and a blush fills my cheeks.
I can
’
t believe I
’
m doing this
. As he makes his way toward me, my erratic heart beats faster and louder. I have to remind myself to breathe, for the sight of him, closing the distance between us, renders me almost useless.
I
’
ve missed him so much!

“
What are you doing?
”
he asks when he
’
s close enough to be heard. His tone isn
’
t cold or distant, it
’
s curious, which fills me to the brim with hope. I don
’
t know what
’
s going to happen after this game, but right now, I have his attention, I have a mission, and I will see it through.

“
Where are you?
”
I begin, timidly.
“
Your head is
not
in this game,
”
I continue, suddenly growing fearless. I love the man before me and I was meant to be here for
this
moment
—
I got out of bed to fight and this is my chance.
“
You are
so much better
than that first half.
”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I can tell he
’
s so beside himself that he can
’
t think of anything to say.
“
For the next thirty game-time minutes, you have to let it all go. Stop being mad at me!
”
I plead.
“
Stop thinking about your mom, or whatever it is that you
’
re thinking about, and
play your game
. Nobody can touch you out there. Isn
’
t that what you told me once?
Out there,
the world can
’
t hurt you. So stop letting them win! This game is yours. Do you hear me?
”

He stares at me for a moment and I meet his gaze unflinchingly. I watch him as he takes me in from head to toe and I relish in his unspoken longing to simply
see
me. I know
exactly
how he feels. I can tell when he reads my shirt because the tiniest,
tiniest
hint of a smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth. If I would have blinked, I would have missed it. But I didn
’
t. I thank the Lord for all the muscles that make up the human face, for that movement, however minute, fills me with the boldness to make my next move.