Prologue

Willa

" I had to shoot my shot, ya know?" He ducks his head down, a bashful smile playing against his lips. When he reaches a finger up to scratch the facial hair I've come to tolerate, I like a full beard, but when he's in training, or they're on a winning streak, that can always change. Right now it's some sort of goatee with the ends of the mustache curled up toward the sky.The black matte circle encasing his left ring finger makes my heart swell.

Shoot his shot he did, but that wasn't even the full story. It was supposed to be fun—a little bit of entertainment in between legs of my massive stadium tour. I'd needed that more than I could ever explain. I'd thought it would be no-strings, a good time, and we'd separate at the end.

Little did I know we were both ready for more, and once we'd had a taste of what more entailed? We weren't about to let that go. So that little fun time I'd planned? It was gone almost as soon as it began.

What it became?

How desperately I needed him?

The fucking air I breathe.