Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me
Chapter 83
“Wh–what is this?”
A
Nathan turns to me, slightly startled. My eyes widen when I see that I caught him still changing. He’s shirtless, halfway through pulling up a pair of shorts.
I immediately close my eyes, but the outline I spied through his boxers is burned behind my lids. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before…but that doesn’t stop the violent reaction running through my body.
My face heats up.
“Umm…” Nathan chuckles slightly. “You can open your eyes.”
I exhale as I slowly open my eyes.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Nathan shrugs, dragging my attention to his broad shoulders–and then his toned pecks and tight six–pack. Seriously, he needs to burn all his shirts. They do nothing good for him.
“April?” he asks with a smirk tugging at his lips.
I shake my head. “Right.” I hold out the satin box in my hands. “What is this?”
When Nathan’s eyes fall on the box, his face softens in a way that tugs on my heartstrings.
He moves to me and takes the box. As he does so, our fingers brush, and my heart skips a beat.
“This,” he says softly, “is probably my most valuable possession.”
My heart backflips in my chest. We’re standing in a room that definitely cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to furnish, and that is his most valuable possession?
“I–I don’t understand.”
With one hand holding the box, Nathan takes my hand and pulls me towards his bed. We both sit, and I was right–it’s so heavenly and comfortable.
and to pu
Only when I sit, and Nathan’s shirt rides up my thighs do I realize that in my confusion and haste, I forgot to put on the shorts he’d given me.
I catch his gaze on my legs just as he shifts it, and a small smile pulls at my lips. It’s good to know that I’m not the only one doing the checking out.
Anyway, Nathan puts the box between us.
“Remember when I said the brace you made me was the second most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten?”
1/3
15:11 Mon, Oct 6
Chapter 83
1 nod. “Yeah.”
“This,” he says as he opens the box, “Is the first.”
1 inhale as I behold the contents of the box.
“You remember back in school when I had my injury?”
I blink, thrown off–guard for a second before remembering that he now knows we went to high school together.
“Yeah, I remember,” I whisper.
Nathan sighs. “I was wrecked when it happened. Football was the one thing in my life I loved. And it was going to be my escape–my way out. I was going to go pro, leave and never look back.”
My heart skips at the emotion in his voice. I guess it doesn’t matter that he could afford fifty dreams if the one he wanted was so cruelly ripped away from him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Don’t be; it was a long time ago.”
He pats the box. “Anyway, when I was in the hospital, classmates brought flowers and signed ‘Get Well Soon!‘ cards. It was nice, but they were all basic and kind of impersonal. Then one day, I woke up from a nap and found this on my bedside drawer.”
He pulls the box into his lap and begins to bring out its contents.
“These“-he holds up a collection of ripped pieces of paper with the details faded over time, held together by a safety pin-“are ticket stubs from every single game I played at Adler High–home and away.”
He drops it on the bed and reaches into the box again.
He brings out four little Ken dolls. Each is wearing a different–colored jersey, all with the number 10 on the back. “These are all the jerseys I ever wore.”
“The dolls are a little creepy,” I whisper, my throat dry.
Nathan snorts. “They’re adorable.”
“And these“-he pulls out a small but thick journal-“are all my memories.”
I lean closer as he flips through the journal. Pictures of him on game day, all of them candid, cutouts of stories of him in the school and local newspaper. Next to the pictures are little notes.
The touchdown you scored today took my breath away.
Your black and green jersey is my favorite; it brings out your eyes.
You look so good in this picture.
2/3
15:12 Mon, Oct 6
Chapter 83
You’re a blar on the fuld, which the time lid forking w
I didn’t really care shout fotball before, but you make the game were like a cinematic masterpiece.
You’re the best. Literally the best
I swallow hard. “And you’re not creeped ext? It’s kind of stalkers/
Nathan shakes his head firmly. “No, it’s beautiful,” he whispers, running a finger reverently through the scrapbook.
He flips to the very first page of the book and tilts it to me.
“A supernova is the luminous explosion of a star,” Nathan reads without looking at the book. He knows the words offhand.
“When a star reaches the end of its life, it bursts into this brilliant light with an afterglow that often outshines entire galaxies. I know you think your life is over since your football career is over. But you, Nathan Ashford, are a supernova. The end of your football career is that explosion, which only means that whatever you do next is going to outshine anything else that has come before it. I believe in you, and I already have my sunglasses for when you shine.”
Nathan looks up at me when a tear drops onto the book.
“Hey,” Nathan whispers as he cups my cheek and wipes the tear away gently. “What’s wrong?”
“I-” The words stick in my throat.
“Are you-” He shakes his head. “I’m not like in love with the person who gave it to me or anything.”
A sob–laugh bursts out of me as I shake my head. “That’s not it,” I sniff.
“Then what?”
I look into his eyes and smile. That black and green jersey really brought out his eyes.
“It’s mine.”
Nathan stills. “What?” His voice breaks on the question.
“I made the box.”
