Three years later...

Rain stings and pelts viciously against my face, like tiny, lethal bullets. The drops pepper my skin through the cage of my helmet, propelled by the gale-force winds. Welcome to the fucking hurricane belt in November.

The game won't be called though, we only have twenty minutes left on the clock.

That's the thing about college football- we play rain or shine under the stadium lights. It sure wasn't shining now- but that didn't stop the fans.

Wild, rhythmic chanting carries over the wind- barely. I force my attention back to the team, to my Bulldog brothers in red.

It's our last playoff game of the season of my junior year. It's our captain's final game, and we want to make him proud before I step into his shoes for our senior season.

Gritting my teeth against the weather, I wrap an arm around my best friend and the team QB, urging him to do the same with the others. Our bodies create a barrier around our captain, and we let him wind us up for the last twenty minutes.

Ryan's voice booms out into the small shelter we've created as he preps us for the last time. I listen with half an ear, more than ready and fired up to hit it. His fist connects with my helmet in a solid, familiar bump.

"I've never asked you fuckers for anything for myself, but I'm asking for something tonight. I want to win my last game as a Bulldog. So, let me hear it one last time. Ready? Goooooo..."

We pick up where he leaves off, knowing that since we can't hear the crowd tonight, he wants us to call the dawgs to the game for him.

The team doesn't disappoint. "...Dawgs! Sic' Em! Woof! Woof! Woof!" Wild barking chants fill my ears, and Ryan grins savagely before leading the way onto the field.

We take our positions when the ref signals. I refuse to let myself look back into the crowd, knowing the person I'm looking for isn't there, and even though an odd prickle at my neck tells me to look, I ignore it.

Why would she be here now, though? Nothing's changed. I focus on all the bitterness that overflows from thoughts of her and channel those feelings into the game.

When the rival QB receives the snap, I charge, recognizing almost instantly from his stance, from his movement, that he's about to throw a long, forward pass to a wide receiver downfield.

My shoulder slams into his gut as I grab the back of his legs and flip him onto his back. I can barely hear the crowd going wild. A whistle blows, barely audible against the shrill pitch of the wind.

I walk back to my team, eyes scanning over the crowd, even though I promised myself I wouldn't look. I promised myself I wouldn't show that kind of weakness.

But, as if my heart and brain haven't quite gotten their shit together, my eyes halt by the entrance to the field. To the spot she'd once occupied every game.

When I catch sight of a familiar blue and cream striped rain jacket and her yellow boots, my traitorous heart lurches. Even with the hood up, I can see the soft-as-silk long auburn hair whipping around and sticking to an all-too-familiar pale face. I don't need to be any closer to imagine those too-big-for-her-face, beautiful grey eyes blinking against the rain as they scan the field.

All I see is pain, sadness, disappointment, and hurt when I look in them- and when I imagine them. I know she doesn't understand my choices, but they're my choices to make- not hers. My future is on the line again. I'm simply too close to having everything I've ever wanted. I have no more time for distractions.

Her delicate, pale hands brush her hair from her face, and, for a moment, she seems to look right into my soul. Our eyes meet, locking together through the wind and curtain of sideways rain; it feels like we'll never look away. Unlike the years before, unlike the games before, she doesn't cheer, she doesn't smile, and she doesn't stay. She breaks the spell between us, fading into the grey haze beyond the spotlights.

A large, beefy palm connects with the back of my helmet, jarring me back into play, and I retake my position, shaking off the feeling of abandonment.

We wait for what feels like an eternity, and my thoughts cycle back to her in the idle time, while we wait for the damn ref. Take your time fucker, it's not like we're getting soaked out here.

I'd made my choice- she'd needed more from me than I could spare with my focus on the game, my goals. If she couldn't see the long game, then that was her fault. I just didn't understand why it was different this time. She'd supported me through it all, for years; why couldn't she do it now?

Didn't she understand certain obligations came with the position I held on campus? The parties, the frat, the time spent with the team, it was all for the end goal. I'd never go back to where I'd come from. The only thing to fight for was tomorrow.

She hadn't made me choose between her and the game; her silent expectations and quiet disappointment had. She wanted more from me when I had nothing else to give.

So, I'd chosen the game, I'd chosen my future. Now, it was time to live with it- and man, I was so sure it was going to be the life I've always wanted.

A short whistle blow grabs my attention, and I crouch down on the field, planting my fist in the wet grass, preparing to charge. Thanks to my fast actions in the last play, we've pushed the line of scrimmage back further, and I only wait for the snap to do the same thing again.

Push 'em back, make 'em hurt, take the game. Celebrate the win with the team. It's all I have to do.

* * *

Blinking my eyes open, I rub my hands over my face. How is it already morning?

A tight, sleekly muscled, dark-skinned thigh slides across my lower body, and I freeze, looking over at the girl I'd already forgotten was in my bed. Fuck, what was her name? She looked familiar, one of the new girls on the spirit squad, I think.

Her hair was a tangled mess, her mascara smudged under her eyes. The pillow's white sheets are covered in makeup, likely from stumbling home in the rain and crashing straight into bed.

It bothered me momentarily that I couldn't remember what happened, but I shrugged it off. I didn't owe anyone anything, so who gave a shit if I woke up with an appreciative fan in my bed?

I find my boxers, then swing my legs off the side of the mattress and tug them on. I pad barefoot to the kitchen, my feet slapping against the cold tiles, before fumbling to make coffee.

A wave of emotion unexpectedly rushes over me. Belle was always the one to set the coffee machine before bed. I don't even know how many scoops she put in to make it perfect. There was always something better about the way she made the coffee.

I look around the apartment, that's already looking less like a home with her things removed. She said she'd be back on Monday to pick up the rest of her stuff. I only wish I had classes or practice, so I'd have an excuse not to be here.

Sighing, I dump the ground beans into the filter, guessing at the amount, then fill the back with water. Maybe I should get one of those pod things.

I quietly dig through my companion's purse, checking for an ID. I frown when I find two but assume the younger birthdate version is the real deal, which means I'd bagged one Jessica Downy from Cleveland, Ohio, last night.

Collecting her discarded clothing from the floor, I toss it into a pile on the chair. I sigh over the fact that I'll have to give her something to wear home, as her clothes from last night are a damp, wrinkled mess.

Unless I can find something in my closet I don't care about, I'll have to see her again.

I pour two mugs, then tuck some sugary creamer under my arm. At least if I wake Jessica up with coffee, she won't think I'm an ass for wanting to get on with my day.

She's already awake and sitting up in bed. She offers a coy smile as I hand her a mug.

"Morning, cutie." Her voice is rough from sleep, but I nod back, offering her the creamer. She takes it, dumping a generous amount in, then stirs her coffee with a finger, sucking it clean when she's done.

When her eyes twinkle up at me, I get that she meant it to be sexy, but I think it's gross. Not like I brought a spoon, though. So, whatever. She sets the container on the bedside table with a click.

"I had a nice time last night."

I sip my coffee, nearly choking on the tar-like substance I'd brewed. She doesn't seem to notice, though, sipping on the cream and sugar-filled mug.

"Me too, Jessica."

"Wow, so you actually know my name."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes because, well, I'd had to dig through her shit to find it. "Yeah, were you expecting something different?"

She laughs, shaking her head. "You never really know, I guess. You guys were on a two-day bender before I got there."

My eyes snap back to hers. "What? Two days? What day is today?"

She gives me a blank look. "Um, it's Monday, unless we slept till Tuesday." Her attempt at a joke falls flat as I dive for my phone, sloshing coffee over the rim of my mug. "Are you okay?"

I have four missed calls from Belle and two from Beau. "Shit. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be an ass, but I have something I'm supposed to deal with. I need you to leave."

I jump into action, grabbing a pair of gym shorts and a large bulldogs t-shirt from my dresser and shove them at her. I retreat to the kitchen, hoping like hell she's getting dressed.

I toss her things into a canvas bag, then meet her at the door to the bedroom.

"Are you serious right now, Griffin?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. Look, leave me your number. I'll call." I lie easily, desperate to get control of the situation.

I yank on a pair of sweats, picking up the condom wrappers off the floor and trying to cover the signs of sex in the bedroom.

"You expecting your girlfriend or your mom, or something?"

When the scraping of a key in a lock breaks the awkward silence, I swear. The door swings open, and I immediately hear Belle's voice. "Griff?

I close my eyes, waiting for the worst.

"Just set the boxes there, Beau. I'll check if he's home."

"Probably easier if he isn't, hun. Going to be hard enough as it is." Amy has no idea how right she's about to be.

I walk into the living room, rubbing the back of my neck, desperate to make eye contact with Belle, to show her I'm not the guy she's going to think I am. We might be over, but I had no intention of disrespecting her.

"I was starting to worry, Griff. I've called so many...." Her voice drifts off in surprise.

Jessica clears her throat from behind me, and I close my eyes. "I'm sorry, Belle. The party kind of got away from me with the boys. I didn't plan on having company when you came to get your stuff."

Belle's shocked eyes fly up to meet mine, and I drown in them for a moment, feeling like the scum of the earth. Like a beast.

"Are you serious, Griff?" Amy's outraged voice is like a slap to my senses.

I take a step towards Belle, but she holds up a hand, freezing me in place. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Fuck. I want to apologize, but the only thing I have to be sorry for is the timing. We're not together anymore. I don't want her to read more into my apology than that.

Beau steps between the two of us, "Belle, why don't you wait in the car? Aims and I will get your stuff."

Without looking away, she drops the keys to our apartment- my apartment, on the table, bulldog, and all. I remember buying her that stupid keychain when I'd told her I accepted the scholarship. Her message couldn't be clearer.

She takes Beau's car keys and walks out of the apartment without looking back.

"Wow, awkward much?" Jessica shifts to stand beside me, and I look down at her.

I grit my teeth, struggling to reign in my frustration. "Just go."

I turn to Amy as Jessica walks out of the apartment too. "You need to know, Amy, this was just horrible timing."

"Save it. I'm not interested." She shoves past me, grabbing Belle's things, hangers and all, and pushes them into garbage bags, tying the bottoms shut, leaving only the hanger hooks visible.

It only takes her minutes to clear the closet. As she tosses the last of the things from the bedroom into a box, she signals Beau to take it to the car.

"I can't believe you would disrespect her like this. I can't believe you aren't fighting for her the way she fought for you all those years. If you think, for even a second, that you would be where you are now if you hadn't had her with you, then you're delusional as well as stupid."

I grab Amy's arm, stopping her as she tries to push past me.

"You don't know what you're talking about." I glare down at her, furious that she's judging me for my choices.

"You're wrong. She told me everything." Amy drills her finger into my chest, and I grab her wrist, stopping her before she can poke me again. She continues, completely undeterred. "She put up with the late nights, never knowing if you were coming home or not, never knowing if you'd show up for her."

"It's none of your damn business. You don't know anything about my dreams, my choices." Amy doesn't know shit about me. I want to scream in her face and lash out at her with the temper raging inside me. Doesn't she get it? This is my only way to escape my past. To be nothing like my father. To make something of myself.

"Of course, I know about your dreams. She put hers on hold for yours. The worst part is, you never even showed up when she did decide to go after what she wanted. You didn't even bother to celebrate with Gran and us when Belle was accepted into the College of Education. They accepted less than eighty students. It's a big deal. She's going to be an amazing teacher, and you didn't show up for any of it. But she did it all on her own, all while supporting you and your dreams. All while showing up for you every damn weekend, whether you were here or playing somewhere else."

"She chose to follow me here. I didn't ask her to." I focus on that. Belle made her own choices, too. "She chose UGA to be close to her Gran, too. It wasn't only for me."

Amy rolls her eyes, shoving away with a sound of disgust. She looks over her shoulder as she gathers the small personal items scattered around the apartment that belong to Belle.

"You're so stupid, Griff. Maybe the fact that you believe that is the worst part. You didn't see that she loved you so much; you never had to ask her for anything. All she did was give and give. All you did was take and take. Talk about taking the best thing in your life for granted."

Amy rummages through the last drawers in the bathroom, then slides the box to the door.

"Do us all a favor and stay away from her. You've chosen the life you want, so go on and live it without us, without her. Just know, you've let the best girl slip through your fingers because of what you want and need from strangers. Strangers, Griff. You had everything you wanted and needed from her, but it wasn't enough for you. I hope that thought keeps you up at night when you find yourself alone one day. When the fickle love from fame and glory fades. Just wait, it happens to everyone."

"You don't think Beau would leave you if he had even half the talent on the ice as I do on the field?" I regret the words as soon as I say them, but I don't take them back.

Amy shakes her head, closing the last box. "You're an ass, Griff. I know Beau won't leave because he hasn't yet, and he's got the same future lying ahead of him as you do- the only difference is the temperature you play at."

"Just wait until the puck bunnies get a load of him when he's drafted across the country. We'll see if you still feel the same way, then."

Amy doesn't respond. Instead, she kicks the boxes out into the hallway and turns to me one last time. "I hope you get everything you ever wanted out of life, Griff. But just know, you could have had it and more if you'd only been a decent man."

The door shuts between us, leaving me alone in the apartment.

For the first time since Belle and I broke up a few weeks ago, I wonder if I've made a terrible mistake.

If I have to choose between my future and my heart, there's no question. I promise myself here and now to do whatever I have to do to achieve my dreams, so this will all be worth it.

So, I force my attention to the future. I have a dream, and nothing will stand in my way. Certainly, not her heart, or my own.

Soon enough, people will wonder whether I even have one.

- - -

So sorry for the delay in posting again! Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait.

The first few chapters will have a series of time jumps to support the story development. Our next chapter will be a three years from now.

Stay tuned! As always, I'd love to know what you think. DM me, let me know in the comments or consider voting if you loved this chapter.

Xx Toria