Page 52 of First Down Promise

I glance toward the hallway, tension still sitting between my shoulder blades.

“Are you sure?”

She makes a face at me. “Josh. Yes. I have full access to it.” She steps closer and wraps her arms around my waist. “Are you okay? Sure you want to be here?”

“Yeah, just making sure I’m not getting fucked.”

She laughs and drops her arms to continue unpacking the takeout. “No, I’m the only one getting fucked around here.”

“Wow, that’s brash for you,” I tease, but she doesn’t know about all the girls Pete had in and out of this place before she moved here.

“You changed me this week.”

“Shit, I guess I did,” I say.

We haven’t talked about the past couple of nights yet, but I hope she’s truly happy to have had sex now. I’ve crossed a line I can never uncross. Abby has to be the one and only one now.

We eat at the kitchen island where I’ve spent too many nights listening to Pete go on about whatever was running through his head while I secretly tried to manifest Abby into appearing. Who knew Pete’s house was so quiet when he was out of town? I doubt Abby even plays music over the house’s speaker system when he’s away, and something tells me she’d have better taste than the rap Pete listens to.

After we finish eating, I follow Abby to her room. I’ve never been inside, and her room looks like any girl’s dream bedroom with light purple walls, whitewashed furniture, and a tall, upholstered headboard. A stone-top dresser matches the end tables, and a large vanity is covered in makeup products and brushes.

“There’s an en-suite and a walk-in closet,” Abby says.

“Of course there is.” I poke my head into her closet since the door is open, and it’s filled to the brim with clothes, handbags, and shoes. Which is a little funny because I’ve only seen her wear workout clothes. Aside from that cute dress she wore to Coop’s at the start of the season. I definitely remember that one. “Pete take you shopping a lot?”

“Kind of. He gives me a lot, too. I was thinking of having Sadie come over and let her take whatever she wants. Aside from my mom’s pieces. I think we’re about the same size,” Abby replies.

I snap my head in her direction. “You have your mom’s wardrobe?”

A big grin forms on her lips as she brushes past me to the closet. “Yeah, like this sweater. This one. And this one,” she lists off, pulling hanging clothes from the rack.

Her excitement remains as she shows me everything, and I do my best to match it. All I can remember is the way neither of my sisters wanted anything when our mom passed. How neither showed up to her funeral. I brace a hand against the closet doorframe. I was eighteen and trying to figure it all out after my dad jumped ship three years earlier. He hasn’t been heard from since.

I clear my throat and push the memories aside. “So, what are you going to give Sadie?” I ask.

She shrugs and flicks the closet light off. “Whatever else, really. I think I have bigger feet than her, though.”

“You’re taller. At least you don’t wear a size fourteen.”

Abby giggles. “Yeah, how do you find shoes?”

“It’s really hard,” I say. “Coop’s also a fourteen, so if I find anything good in my size, I tell him. Freaking Dane’s a fifteen.”

“How’s that physically possible?” Abby asks with wide eyes.

“That’s not even the biggest in the league, but he orders custom everything,” I reply. “Did you know he has an Alaskan king bed?”

She raises an eyebrow at me and crosses her arms over her chest. “And how do you know that?”

“Because he brags about it to everyone!” I answer, chuckling.

“You guys are good ones,” she says, tipping her head slightly.

“We are ones.”

“Eleven…eighty-one…sixty-one…seventy-one,” she mumbles, darting her eyes to the side as she thinks. “The ones of the Stallions’ offense.” Her whole face lights up at the realization, and fuck, she’s cute.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool how that worked out.”