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)
“It is really disheartening that you only recently learned that,” Talon says to me. “Remember my rules. No football knowledge, no wedding.”
I give my future father-in-law a smartass smile because little does he know, I’ve spent the last couple of months learning every little detail about football. And sure, the rules still don’t make sense because it is the least cohesive sport I’ve ever watched, but I can follow them.
These guys will be my family one day, I have no doubt about that, and I’m already closer to them than any of my blood relatives.
My mom has called a couple of times to try to talk sense into me, but she knows she would get further talking to a brick wall than to me directly.
I spoke to my brother and sister when all that shit first happened with Dad cutting me off, but they both called me an idiot for turning my back on all that money. They’ve never understood me, just like I’ve never understood how anyone could love that kind of elitist lifestyle. It’s not that they have money; it’s that they want to keep it all for themselves and look down on those who don’t have it. Even though they did absolutely nothing to earn it.
I’m not going to become a millionaire by selling my art. I already know that. But whatever I do earn, that will be mine. I will have worked for it.
Peyton’s the same way with football.
And when he finally comes back and sits next to me again, I grip his arm. “We’re moving to Arizona.”
“Yes, we are.” He leans in and presses his mouth to mine, and he tastes like promises.
Promises of a future.
Promises of forever.
Promises of giving me everything I’ve wanted since I was a teenager.
We’ll start the rest of our lives together right here and now.
I can’t wait.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
peyton
EPILOGUE
My alarm goes off, telling me my time is up. No more lying in bed, sated from the epic morning sex my live-in boyfriend woke me up to hours ago.
I passed back out almost immediately, but the bed shifted with the loss of Levi’s weight. It’s a game day for me with a 1:00 p.m. kickoff, which means I need to be at the stadium by eleven at the latest.
Even though I’m only the backup quarterback, I’m getting a lot of game time because Tim Warner, the starter, has a shoulder injury. The plan was for me to take over from him in two seasons’ time when his contract was up, but his retirement might be coming early. If his injury hadn’t happened during a game, I would’ve sworn black and blue that my dads had something to do with it.
My rookie season is more than I could’ve ever imagined. I’m getting more field time than expected, my stats for a newbie are off the charts, and our chances to make the playoffs are great. While I’d love to take out the title my first time out, I do have some realistic expectations.
Football royalty or not, no rookie has ever won the Super Bowl their first-ever season.
Still, a boy can dream.
He can also tell his dad to shut up about becoming the first to ever do it because I already have enough pressure on me as it is. Like I found out in college, I thrive under pressure, but some things are just too much.
Everyone from my Franklin graduating class has moved on to their futures. Brady’s in New York interning for Uncle Damon and going to law school, but his best friend, Felix, moved to some small town in Massachusetts, so they’re still somewhat close. A couple of friends stayed in San Luco, but everyone spread out around the country, and everything we worked for at Franklin is happening now.
This is our future.
And after I drag myself out of bed, have a quick shower to wash off sweat and cum, and get dressed into my suit, I walk to the other end of our house and enter Levi’s studio, where I know he’ll be.
I lean against the doorjamb and watch him work.
His studio looks out over Arrowhead Lake, and while our house isn’t much to look at out the front, the interior and view are worth the obscene amount of money I pay to rent this place.
My dads were insistent I use my signing bonus to put a deposit on a house and get into the real estate market now, but it was too close to jinxing my spot on the team for my liking. I didn’t want to buy somewhere and then have to sell if I have a shit season and they release me from my contract.
Even with how good I’m playing, I’m reluctant to take that step purely because anything could happen between now and the Super Bowl. I do love it here in Arizona, and I’d love to stay, but it’s not up to me. It’s up to the team.