Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
And just when I’m on the verge of tears while envisioning a future of corporate offices and suits and legal jargon, there’s another knock at my door.
I hold my breath. If I pretend I’m not here, my father will give up and leave, won’t he? I can only imagine he came back to physically drag me after not running after him. But then there’s a soft “Levi?” and relief floods every vein.
“Pey …” I rush to the door and try to school my face, but as soon as our gazes meet, his blue eyes soften, and the empathy they hold does me in.
I step into his arms and bury my head in his chest.
“What happened?” he soothes. “You hung up so fast, I didn’t get to ask what he wants.”
“He wants me to go back to Chicago.” I step back and wipe my nose with my sleeve.
“Because of the kiss?” Peyton swallows hard, guilt written all over his face.
“Not because of the kiss.”
He relaxes, and I don’t want to tell him this next part.
“It’s because someone wrote an article about the kiss. Between you and ‘art student’ Levi Vanderbilt.”
“Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I will love that moment between us forever because … Shit, you put everything on the line for it. It was like …” I don’t want to say it.
“Like what?” Peyton presses his forehead to mine.
“It was like you were choosing me. I know football comes first, and I get that—”
He shakes his head. “I was choosing you. My pop told me to follow my heart, and it made me realize I want both of you. Football and for you to be my boyfriend.”
A smile immediately takes over my face. “Peyton Miller doesn’t do relationships, though.”
“But he also knows not to let go of something that could be really good for him. And I know we haven’t been back in each other’s orbit long, and I know that in six months, I’ll be leaving.”
“I’ll be gone tomorrow if I can’t find a job,” I add.
“What?”
“Those were my options: go back to Chicago with my father tomorrow or be cut off. So unless I can get a job to fund”—I wave my hand around—“this, I have no choice.”
Peyton steps away from me and goes to my computer. “Okay, easy. I’m getting you a job.” He pauses. “Eww, why does this dude want another guy to lick his toes? And why have you saved it under maybe?”
“Well, with each ad, I asked myself which I’d rather do, go back to Chicago or that. The feet licker is borderline.”
“I’m fixing this.” Peyton searches for a phone number and then puts it into his phone and then dials. “Jerry, hey, it’s Peyton Miller.” He stands and starts pacing as he talks. “Thank you. It was a great game.”
What I’ve been doing for the last however long is achieved with five minutes and one phone call with the help of my boyfriend.
Is this real?
Yep. Definitely has to be real. This amount of embarrassment couldn’t be made up.
“I don’t want to say it.” I look at my new boss at Bean Necessities with pleading in my eyes, but he doesn’t care.
“Whatever name the customer gives you, that’s the name you call out. It’s policy.” Jerry’s words and tone are so serious, I don’t have the guts to ask if he is.
I think he just wants me to entertain my stupid boyfriend’s order name. Jerry’s a big bear of a guy and wears a red captain hat. He says it’s from some old kids’ movie, but I’d never heard of it, so I pretended like I knew what he was talking about. Jerry seems friendly enough. I mean, he was willing to take a chance on me purely because Peyton asked him to.
Considering I thought I was trained for nothing, Peyton knew immediately the perfect job for me: barista. Jerry hired me yesterday, and today is my first day of training.
It was that easy.
The hours aren’t much, but they’re flexible with my class schedule. Except after seeing the hourly pay rate in the HR forms I signed, I know this job won’t put a dent in my monthly bills. It was a shock to see such a low number, and it took everything I had to school my overprivileged reaction of asking, “How do people even live on that?” It’s not even enough to cover rent.
Which means I’m going to have to move.
Just when I think I’m heading in the right direction, something comes up, I get overwhelmed, and then I think I can’t do this on my own and have to go back to Chicago after all. Though to do that now after standing my father up at the airport, I foresee a lot of groveling that might not even work, and that would be the worst thing that could happen. Putting my pride on the line, begging not to be cut off, promising my life to the one I ran away from, only to have my dad reject it anyway.