Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗
- Author: Agnes Canestri
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She nods again. “Yes. But not because I think that forgiving someone is the Christian thing to do. Your mom is certainly motivated by her faith, but my reasons are more selfish.”
“You, selfish? No way.” I shake my head. “You’re the most selfless person I know.”
“No, I’m far from that. I want our therapy to be a success.”
I meet her gaze. “So your only motivation is that?”
She shrugs. “I might also want to see you happy.”
My heart stutters at her words. “You do?”
“Of course,” she says, with a small smile. “Though I don’t know enough about your dad to judge whether he’s going to stick to his acquired sobriety or not—”
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Then why do you want me to give him a chance?”
“Because if you forgive your father, your anger issues will dissolve. It’s your bitterness toward him that keeps you hooked. Because letting go of your resentment could have tremendous benefits for you.”
I arch my brows. “Like what?”
“If you release the anger about the past, you make room for new emotions.”
“Impossible,” I murmur.
“Did you ever notice that impossible is actually spelled as “I-m-possible”? she gives me a cheeky glance.
“That’s cheesy.” I chuckle.
She grins. “It is, but it makes you look at the word differently, right?”
I run a hand through my hair. “Perhaps holding onto my grudge strengthens me. It’s been the fuel that drove me to excel in football.”
“I know that’s what you think. It’s the primary reason most people remain attached to their fury. But, believe me, resentment does not give you an edge.” Ellie’s voice reverberates with the wisdom of someone who truly knows what she’s talking about. She gives me an encouraging smile. “It comes down to what you really want, Wyatt. Living in fear of exposing yourself and getting hurt again? Or being brave and taking a chance?
Suddenly, I remember that I’m not the only one who faced the dilemma of excusing someone’s grave mistake. Ellie buried the hatchet with me.
Could it mean that she’s not afraid of me hurting her anymore?
I genuinely hope so. If I could travel back in time, I would never cause her the pain I did.
Ellie’s eyes shine with confidence, as if she knows that I have the strength and I’ll make the right choice.
As I glare at her, a warmth spreads in my chest at the faith she has in me.
When I’m around Ellie, I feel like I’m capable of anything. Perhaps even forgiving my father.
Suddenly, I don’t understand how I’d ever believed Coach Williams. Having Ellie in my life would’ve never made me sloppy in the game. She wouldn’t have hindered my career.
As I ponder this, a realization, almost as violent as a pass from Joe, slams me and takes my breath away.
Oh, sweet Lord, I want Ellie. Again.
Or, perhaps, still. Because frankly, I believe I’ve never stopped desiring her.
Chapter 31
(Ellie)
As I stare at Wyatt, my chest rumbles, telling me that the line between my duty of being his therapist and caring for him for real has blurred entirely.
But I can’t stop pondering this unsettling discovery. I’m too eager to know what he’ll decide. I’d like for him to make the right choice, to let go of what’s been eating away at his soul. I know he wants that too.
But is he ready to take the leap?
Wyatt studies me with an undecipherable expression, then cocks his head to the side. “Just out of interest…what sensations can you possibly feel for someone who’s hurt you?”
I shrug. “All kinds, really.”
“All kinds?” he asks in a throaty voice.
I nod encouragingly. “Yes. Even the ones you wouldn’t expect.”
Wyatt searches my gaze, then steps closer. “So after you forgave me for the hurt I put you through…”
I bend back slightly because I don’t like where he’s going with his question. “I don’t think I’m the best example…” My voice trembles at these last words and I blame it on his black T-shirt and the pajama pants that make him look like a Calvin Klein nightwear model.
Wyatt lifts his thumb, and I almost think he’ll brush it on my neck, but he only scratches his chin. “That’s the only example I’m interested in.”
“Fine, what do you want to know?” I focus on my breathing to suppress the sudden desire to snuggle up to the stubble sprouting on his jawline.
He sighs. “It’s simple. I’d like to know if you had new feelings for me? Perhaps something you didn’t expect?”
What am I supposed to say to this?
I can’t back out from advocating forgiveness, but I can’t confess to him that what I harbor for him has been in my heart all along. I thought I’d gotten rid of it, but I hadn’t.
My throat clenches as I search for words.
My mind draws a blank, probably because my body doesn’t want me to speak but to act. It’s torture not to move forward. All my cells want to be closer to him, possibly only a breath away.
Something in his eyes, shining in the suffused kitchen lights like melted caramel, tells me he’d be glad if I gave in to my instinct.
But where would that lead me?
I force a smile to my face. “Sure, I have plenty of new feelings. I feel responsible for you like a good therapist should. And I like you again. Just like you like me, right?”
Proud that I used my professional role and his own words from the dance floor to cover up my actual feelings, I take a step to the side and clap my hands, tuning my voice into a chipper soprano. “Anyway, now that we’ve established that a kiss and make up is the only correct way forward for you and your father, can I offer you a snack?” I point at the floor. “Obviously not these cucumbers and carrots, but there’s also some celery in the fri—”
Wyatt
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