Running Back (New York Leopards 2)

Actually, maybe she did. His whole family seemed to think we were a thing. “Hey—I just wanted to say, Mike really does care about all of you. And I don’t think it’s fair to say he isn’t trying, because he loves you all.”

“How can you defend him after you just—figuratively—stuck a knife in his back?”

Now, that was a bad analogy. Much too strong. Besides— “You were standing right there, Longinus.”

“What?”

“Um. Longinus? One of Brutus’s co-conspirers. Helped him assassinate Julius Caesar?”

She snorted, and then it dissolved into helpless laughed. “I’m surrounded by crazy people.”

They didn’t let you into grad school unless you were crazy. “I guess, because even though I’m, um, clearly in Mike’s bad grace’s right now—I really like him.”

Lauren shook her head. “You’re even more screwed than I am.”

“Trust me.” I stared out at the hills. “I know.”

* * *

When I came to the coast, I stopped. I stared out at the water, watching the waves roll in from the south, white crests so far below they appeared as pencil lines. I could understand where the fair folk came from when I stood here, in a small corner of the world where humans seemed foreign and strange and unnecessary. I closed my eyes, breathing in the salt and sea, the

coolness of rain on the way and freshness of wind combing through the grasses.

I needed to let it all go.

“Nice view.”

I spun around. Mike stood there in running shorts and a Notre Dame sweatshirt. My chest spiked and swooped, unprepared and defenseless, and the raw emotion jolted straight through my body. My voice came out uneven. “I thought I might find you here.”

He fit here, in this wild place. This man who played by rules and regulations, who wore the same outfit as dozens of others, who was almost indistinguishable on the field with his gleaming hair hidden away. Here, he looked like an elemental part of the landscape.

He shrugged and walked up to the edge of the bluff.

I could have Kilkarten. Mike would sign, I knew he would. I could have everything I’d worked for these past six years. I could have Ivernis.

He was asking me to choose him over Kilkarten.

How could I choose him over my work?

My chest felt light and heavy all at once. A bubble formed inside it, too much oxygen, and my blood raced until my skin tingled and my thoughts flew in every direction. I tried to keep my breathing from escalating, but instead ended up taking lots of short, quick breaths.

I could hear the rush of the ocean, but it didn’t drown out his slow, steady footsteps behind me. I closed my eyes and breathed in the salt and earth. I licked my lips. “Okay.”

“What?”

I forced myself to turn, and I spread my hands. The wind whipped his hair into a maddened mess, and his eyes shone like polished bronze.

I swallowed. I felt sick and hollow. “Okay. I...withdraw my request.” It took everything in me to say that, and even so, a large part of me wanted to suck the words back in, to disavow them.

He searched my eyes. For once, there was no mask at all, no charm or stone, just a strange vulnerability. “Really?”

I nodded, hands squeezing my opposite elbows as I hugged my arms to myself. “I promise.”

He closed his eyes and seemed to expel all the worry and tension in his body. “Thank you.”

I nodded.

He looked back at me. “Why?”