The Ten-Year Game Plan

Chapter 27- Josie

I waited to cry until I got back to my apartment, and I didn't try to hide it from my friends.

Donovan gave me permission to talk to Cam and Giselle about his brother. And I did. Because there was something about Danny's illness that made me look outside myself. Donovan, I decided, was the opposite. He went within himself. Neither way was correct and neither was wrong.

My best friends held me while I cried, confused and scared until I was capable of blubbering out an explanation. The fact that they held me before even knowing what was wrong made me cry even harder. It was an unconditional thing.

Exhaustion came next. Guilt came after that. If I felt this way after finding out about a kid I hadn't seen in years, how was Donovan even capable of functioning? How was the whole Starr family functioning?

He FaceTimed me that night when I was laying in bed, and when I answered I half expected him to be at the gym. He wasn't. Instead, there was darkness surrounding him and his head rested on a pillow.

"Hey," he said simply, as though we FaceTimed each other every night.

"Hi," I said, because that was the only thing to say.

"You good?"

My heart squeezed. There was concern laced in his voice, concern for me.

"I should be asking that about you, Starr."

His smile was tired. "I have my days. Yesterday with you was good. Today was shit, but it ended with good."

It did end with good. Donovan, Danny, and I played cards with each other. The three of us joking and teasing each other. There were moments where Danny would get a little breathless and Donovan would tense, but those moments would pass.

"I—" I stopped myself before the words could tumble from my lips, shaking my head.

Donovan arched a brow. "What? What were you going to say?"

I thought for a moment, biting the inside of my cheek before finally giving in.

"I wish you were here."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, so long that I thought maybe we'd lost connection. But then he loosed a breath, and one small dimple appeared on his cheek as he gave me a pleased smile.

"I'll be there in ten."

Sure enough, he was at my front door within ten minutes wearing an old football t-shirt and a pair of team sweatpants. He had his backpack in his hands and a change of clothes. He followed me to my bedroom, taking care not to wake my roommates.

Wordlessly, I climbed into my bed and pushed back the comforter for him. He stood in the corner of my room, kicking off his shoes and pulling his shirt over his head. Abdominal muscles stretched as he lifted it over his curls, shaking them in the process. It was... graceful. It... made my mouth go numb.

He arched a brow when he saw me sitting up and watching him. For the life of me, I couldn't look away from him. Not the dark curls. Not the hardened muscle on his stomach or the cords that wrapped around his forearms. Not the goddamned blue eyes.

As soon as he got into the bed beside me, he laid on his back and turned his head to me. Those blue eyes shone even through the darkness of my room. I was curled up on my side, drawn to the warmth he radiated under the covers. We were only inches apart, both of our heads resting on pillows as we watched each other.

Was it a mistake to invite him over here? What were we supposed to do? What was the protocol?

"You were crying," he said. Not as a question, I noticed.