Track 6 Death by a Thousand Cuts – Taylor
TAYLOR
Okay, Coach Harrison might have a point…
I snapped one final selfie with a young fan and handed off his phone before slipping into a town car.
My mind was still spinning, still attempting to compartmentalize seeing Audrey after two long and silent years.
I couldn’t remember whose last words cut the deepest, who was to blame for going from haters to cordial frenemies to ghosts, but I was still expecting the name on my door wreath to belong to a different Audrey.
I was still holding out hope that I’d never have to actually see her again.
Now that I had, though, the truth was evident.
I still fucking hate her…
When I last saw her, she was pretty—gorgeous even—but now?
She was stunning as hell, and no other woman came close.
Her deep brown curls framed her face like an angel’s, complementing her hazel eyes. Her bow-shaped lips were coated in candy red, and every man who passed by her in that airport did a slow double-take at the way her purple dress clung to her curves.
I almost felt bad for the way we “ended” things.
Keyword: Almost.
“Heads up, Taylor!” Brandon, my fellow rookie teammate, tossed a box to the back seat. “The Sharpie is at the bottom, and you need to sign all fifty of those cards before we get to the next photo op.”
“Will do.”
Grateful for the distraction, I opened the box.
With every signature I signed against the laminate, I weighed the pros and cons of “sticking to football” versus staying in the program for the next few months.
Pros:
Freedom. Writing. Mental break. Old dreams I still want.
Cons:
Audrey Parker. Audrey Parker. Audrey Parker.
AUDREY PARKER.
“Dealing with her isn’t worth it,” I muttered.
“Dealing with who isn’t worth it?” Brandon turned around.
“Nothing. I was just thinking aloud.”
When I finished signing the deck of cards, my phone buzzed with a text.
Nick (Agent)
Just set up a meeting with you and Cold Energy Drink + a Zoom call with NFL Gear. They’re interested in signing you to a FULL deal when you’re healthy, so I’m thinking we increase the doctor’s check-ins to twice a week instead of one?
The text glowed on the screen, another reminder of the world waiting for me to care.
Fuck that. I’m staying away from football for as long as I can…