My heart burst at how he looked at me, with reverence and a tinge of fear. I held onto that gaze as I curled into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and lying my head on his chest.

“On two conditions.”

“Name them.”

“One, you meet my dad when he comes in a couple weeks for my sister’s award ceremony.”

“Done.”

I smiled into his chest.

“And two?”

“Two,” I said, drawing a circle on his stomach with my finger. “You have to teach me how to surf.”

“I can’t surf.”

“Then we can both learn.”

“It’ll be freezing.”

I peeked up at him. “I bet we can find ways to warm up after.”

His sleepy grin matched mine, and then he kissed me, and I was the happiest girl in the world.

Every day was a gift, shinier and more promising than the last, and I floated on my little cotton candy cloud in pure, unbreakable bliss.

Even when Maliyah tried to rip me off and throw me to the cold hard earth.

I was in the stadium bathroom about a week after our win against the Bandits, wiping under my eyes from where my mascara had run. It had been a long day, especially with Kyle Robbins signing yet another deal that meant I was committed to helping him through a photoshoot for a sports drink. Honestly, I couldn’t fault him.

If I could make a couple hundred-thousand dollars for a photoshoot, I’d do it, too.

As I reapplied my lipstick and tried to give my hair back some of the volume that the humid cold had brought, Maliyah whipped through the door.

She paused at the sight of me, swallowing as her eyes trailed me from head to toe. I expected her to go into one of the stalls, but instead, she walked straight toward the sinks, flicking on the water as she began to wash her hands.

“Long day?” she asked, arching a brow but not really looking at me.

I swallowed, but kept my focus on my reflection. “Seems like they’re all that way during the season.”

“Tell me about it. I long for the day when I can sleep in past six again.”

She smiled with the comment, and I had to actively fight to keep the confusion off my face.

Was she actually trying to have a conversation with me?

As she dried her hands, she leaned a hip against the bathroom counter, facing me. “So… things with you and Clay seem pretty serious.”

Oh, God.

Here it comes.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I just smiled.

“He’s a good man,” she said, her voice softer, brows folding together. “I didn’t realize that until it was too late.”

“He is,” I agreed.