Free Every Breath by Tasha Ivey Page B

close now that I can feel the heat radiating off of his body. I think I like this better, too. And I can’t believe I just admitted that to myself.
    “As I was saying, right before I came to see you that day, I got a phone call from the head coach of the Indianapolis Colts, you know, my old team. He told me that there was a Special Teams Coordinator job coming open soon, and he was curious if I’d be interested in talking to them about it. I had no idea if I was interested or not, so I told him I’d think about it. That’s when I came to talk to you. If I seemed a little off, I was probably still in shock. I mean, getting an offer like that at my age is unprecedented.”
    “Well, that does explain that part, but where were you all weekend?”
    “That part came as much of a surprise to me as the phone call. When I woke up Saturday morning, he called me again, saying that he really wanted me to seriously consider it, and if I was willing, he wanted me to hop on a plane and meet with him, so we could talk. I rushed out of the house with the intentions of calling you once I landed, but they met me at the gate, and we stayed busy with meetings, contract discussions, and a dinner with the owner. By the time I got home late last night, I knew I needed to do more than call you. I had to wait until I could come and talk to you and apologize in person. I’m so sorry I didn’t call you, but believe me, you were on my mind the entire time.”
    I can tell by the way he’s bouncing his knee up and down that he’s nervous about whether I’ll accept it or not. It does seem like a rational story, and he was probably so excited about this offer of a lifetime, that he was truly immersed in it, knowing that I would be here for him when he returned. “I’m proud of you, Drew. And thank you for the apology.”
    His bright smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but he appears relieved. “I’m not finished just yet.”
    Great. “There’s more?”
    “Well, I negotiated to have a few weeks to make the decision. I want to put some thought into it, and make sure it’s the right move for me. Career-wise, it’s an excellent opportunity, and I’ll be quadrupling my salary immediately. But money isn’t everything. I’ll have to leave my home and family behind again.”
    “And me.” I see where he’s going with this now.
    “I hope not. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. We have a few weeks to discuss it, but . . . would you consider going with me?” He holds his hand up as soon as my mouth opens. “Just hear me out. I know we haven’t been dating very long, and it seems like a crazy next step to take, but I don’t want to give up on us. And I don’t want to pass up this opportunity either. So I thought, ‘why can’t I have both?’”
    The jumble of thoughts in my head crash into each other like an emotional mosh pit. Move in with Drew? Let me rephrase that. Move away with Drew? I can’t even fathom that right now. Even though I think I’m getting closer, it’s still hard for me to stomach the thought of kissing him, much less sharing a bed with him, sharing a home with him. I’ve only slept in Shane’s bed. I haven’t woken up to any man, other than him. But as much as it pains me to say it, I know that won’t ever happen again, and I should be able to move past it. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. He’s not going to come back.
    I keep waiting for the empty hole inside me to heal. I keep waiting for something to fill it, but it never happens. And when I force myself to truly analyze it, I know that the problem is me. I haven’t let anyone inside. That scar on my heart won’t ever heal because I won’t let it. I keep ripping it back open. Every time I compare Drew to Shane. Every time I get close to him. Every breath I take is one I’m taking for Shane, not for myself.
    And as long as I keep this up, I’m just as alive as he is.
    “What’s going through that pretty little head of yours, Makenna? Talk