Before, when Knox would talk about the NFL—never that much though, he always said he didn’t want to jinx himself—I didn’t think that much of it. But now that my heart is on the line, it's different.
He's going to leave me eventually.
And it’s going to hurt.
THIRTY-EIGHT
JOANNA
It’s late,and Natalie and I have finally arrived back at our apartment. We went out to dinner together after we left the game, our main topic of conversation being Cam and Blair. Turns out they were all going back to the hotel for dinner and Cam was going with them. The Maguires are big fans of Camden Fields and wanted some time with him to catch up on what he’s got going on.
I actually think Owen Maguire wanted to drill his son’s best friend and see if he was planning on going through with the draft or not.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t go to dinner with them,” Natalie says as she parks her car into her specified slot. “You could’ve observed them together for hours.”
“I’m glad I didn’t go. What if Knox picks up on what’s happening between them? I wouldn’t want to be around for that.”
We get out of the car, clutching our coats around us as we start hurrying toward our apartment building. It’s freezing outside and snow is in the forecast, but not until the early morning hours.
As we approach our door, I swear I see someone sitting in front of it. I grab hold of Natalie’s arm, stopping her from walking farther.
She casts me a weird look. “What’s wrong with you?”
I tug her so we’re semi-standing behind a bush, waving toward our front door. “Is there someone standing there?”
Natalie squints into the darkness, her eyes going wider when she does, indeed, spot someone. Just like I thought. “Oh shit. You think it’s a homeless guy?”
“I don’t know.” We’re clutching at each other, slowly backing away from our building when the person walks down the steps and starts heading toward us. “Oh no, he’s coming right for us.”
“Joanna! Wait!”
I know that voice. It’s familiar.
Oh God.
“It’s Bryan,” I whisper to Natalie, whose eyes are so wide I swear they’re going to fall out of her head.
“Joanna.” He jogs toward us, coming to a stop, his gaze taking me in from head to toe. His expression is one of thinly-veiled horror and I realize I’m still in my football-watching gear and I have paint all over my face. “Hey.”
Hey. Like it’s no big deal he showed up on my doorstep on a freezing cold Saturday night.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him, surprised by how much hostility there is in my voice. I can tell Natalie is angry too, but you know what?
Fuck it. He deserves it.
“I wanted to talk to you. Before it was too late.”
“Before what was too late, Bryan? Huh?”
“I’ll, um, just leave you two alone.” Natalie starts to head for our front door, but I grab her hand, sending her a pleading look.
“Please stay. I need a witness to the bullshit.”
She stares at me, finally giving in with a slight nod.
“I want to talk to you in private,” Bryan insists.
“Whatever you want to say to me, you can say it right here in front of her.”