Breaking the Playbook [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5

The city lights twinkle like stars against the darkening sky as I drive away from the stadium, the day's excitement slowly giving way to a reflective quiet. The meeting with Brooks lingered in my mind, like a whispered secret I can't quite shake. It's as if the universe decided to throw us back together, and now I'm left grappling with a maelstrom of emotions.

I pull up to the house, the familiar surroundings offering a semblance of comfort after the whirlwind of the day. My fingers still tingle from the brief touch of Brooks' hand, and my heart races at the memory of his smile. I don't need to be reminded of the past to know that seeing him again has reignited feelings I thought I had buried.

Inside, I shed my jacket and let out a sigh, the quiet of home offering a stark contrast to the energy of the field. I wander into the living room, absently picking up a framed photo of me and Brooks from college, a reminder of simpler times. My heart aches as I remember our shared moments—our laughter, the easy way we connected, the unspoken bond that had always been there.

My phone buzzes with a text message. It's from Brooks. My pulse quickens as I open it, a mixture of excitement and anxiety curling in my stomach.

Brooks: Hey Lolo, I hope the day's been good. Any chance we could meet up and catch up?

I stare at the message, my mind racing. The thought of seeing him again—this time outside the draft frenzy—stirs a flutter of nerves and anticipation. I quickly typed a reply, trying to keep my tone casual despite the whirlwind of emotions inside.

Lolo: I'd love to. How about we grab a drink later? I know a great place nearby. 

I hit send and wait, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. The minutes feel like hours until my phone buzzes again.

Brooks: Sounds perfect. Let's meet at 8. Looking forward to it.

I put my phone down and began to get ready, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts about what this meeting could mean. As I choose my outfit, I find myself gravitating toward something that feels both comfortable and special—something that will let me feel like myself but also show him that I've grown since we last met.

When I arrive at the bar, the soft glow of the ambient lighting and the mellow hum of background music create a warm, inviting atmosphere. I spot Brooks immediately, sitting at a table near the window. He's dressed casually but stylishly, with the same easy confidence radiating from him that I remember so well.

He stands as I approach, his smile as disarming as ever. "Lolo," he says, his voice carrying a mix of warmth and relief. "It's really good to see you."

"Hey, Brooks," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's been a while."

We sit down, and the conversation flows easily at first—small talk about the draft, the team, and general updates about our lives. But as the minutes pass, the conversation deepens, and old feelings begin to resurface. It's clear that the chemistry between us is still very much alive.

"Do you remember that time we went to the beach after finals?" Brooks asks, his eyes twinkling with nostalgia. "We spent the whole day just talking and watching the sunset."

I smile, the memory bringing a rush of warmth. "Yeah, I remember. It was one of those perfect days where everything felt right."

Brooks chuckles, a sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "Those were good times. I miss them."

"I do too," I admit, feeling a pang of longing. "Life was simpler back then."The conversation drifts to more personal topics, and as we talk, I find myself drawn to him in a way I haven't felt in a long time. The connection we once shared is still there, like a thread pulling us together. I catch myself lost in his blue eyes, the same eyes that had always made me feel seen and understood.