Almost a week ago now, Giana had taken me to the observatory to get my mind off my mom, even though she didn’t know the full extent of what had happened. She’d somehow known enough to not push me when I said I couldn’t talk about it, and she’d somehow cared enough to not leave me alone — even when every sign I gave off was cold.

She knew, without me having to say a word, that I needed something.

She knew what I needed.

And she let me lose myself in her.

It had haunted me all week, how it felt to come apart for her, to have her come apart for me. It was all under the guise of a lesson, but I knew if I was being honest with myself, that wasn’t what it was for me.

I wanted her.

I wanted her so badly my chest had a gaping hole in it whenever I wasn’t with her.

I wasn’t even thinking about Maliyah anymore, and maybe I hadn’t been for a while now. I couldn’t put my finger on when it changed, when my focus shifted, but I knew the shift was fundamental. I knew every time I wanted to reach for Giana now, it wasn’t because I gave a rat’s ass about someone watching us and reporting back to my ex.

It was because I wanted to touch her, to hold her, to taste her.

But that wasn’t what she wanted.

I’d starved myself of her attention all week long to remind myself, to hammer into my thick skull that she wanted another man — and I was just the foolish punk who agreed to help her get him.

No, whose idea this whole thing had been.

Frustration battled with gratitude inside my soul all week long, no matter how I tried to work through it in the weight room or on the field. I was consumed by overanalyzing each moment we’d spent together, wondering how it’d taken me so long to really see it, to really understand what I was feeling.

And I didn’t know which emotion I felt more.

I was angry with myself, with her, with Shawn and Maliyah both. I was gutted by the situation, by even the thought of Shawn touching her the way I had been.

And yet, if this was it, if this was the only way I could ever have her… I was thankful.

I’d take every stolen moment, every fake kiss, every lesson she’d let me teach her. I’d ground myself down to sand and let her leave me behind in the end if it meant I got to soak up everything that she was right now.

A fool, that’s what I was.

A fool who wouldn’t stop playing the game he knew he’d lose.