The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback (Astra and Zayne) novel Chapter 194

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

Something to Hold On To.

ASTRA

Turning eighteen, it seemed, involved being buried alive beneath presents.

I sat in the middle of the sofa with wrapping paper scattered around my feet while Lucas and Mason hovered directly in front of me, watching my face with so much concentration that opening their gifts had somehow become stressful.

Lucas had insisted on going first, and inside the rectangular box was a beautiful set of professional colored pencils arranged in neat rows. There were more shades than I knew what to do with, and they were nicer than the mismatched collection currently taking over my desk.

“Lucas…”

His entire face reddened before I could say anything else.

“I picked them,” he announced proudly.

Mason scoffed. “Mom helped.”

“She only paid!”

“That counts as helping.”

I ran my fingers over the pencils, unable to keep the smile from spreading across my face. “I love them.”

Lucas practically glowed.

Mason immediately decided he’d had enough of his brother receiving attention and pushed his own gift into my lap.

“Mine now.”

His turned out to be a sketchbook, except it was nothing like the cheap spiral-bound ones I usually bought whenever I needed somewhere to dump whatever was in my head. This one was thick and beautifully made, bound in soft leather with heavy cream pages.

Across the bottom corner, embossed in small gold letters, were two words.

ASTRA HAWTHORNE

For a moment, all I could do was run my thumb over my name.

“Oh.”

Mason’s confidence faltered. “Do you like it?”

My head came up immediately. “I love it.”

His smile returned so quickly that my chest gave an uncomfortable squeeze.

I put the sketchbook aside and reached for both boys at once, dragging them into a hug before either could escape.

“Thank you.”

Lucas started squirming almost immediately. “You’re crushing me.”

A laugh escaped me as I released them before another argument could start.

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The colored pencils and sketchbook went together almost too perfectly, though I decided against pointing that out The twins seemed deeply committed to believing they had competed rather than accidentally collaborated

Elira approached next with a much smaller box in her hands.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“You already did all this.” I gestured around the room. “You really didn’t have to get me anything else.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted you to have this,” she said as she sat beside me.

She placed the small box in my hands, and the unexpected weight of it made me glance at her before lifting the lid.

A delicate gold bracelet rested against cream velvet, with a tiny star suspended from the center. It was simple enough to wear every day, but beautiful in that understated way expensive things always seemed to be.

My fingers hovered over it. “Mrs. Ashton…”

“Elira.”

I glanced up at her.

Her smile softened. “You’re eighteen now and I think we’ve moved beyond Mrs. Ashton.”

Something about that hit harder than I expected.

“Elira,” I corrected quietly.

“Better.”

My attention returned to the bracelet. “It’s beautiful.”

“Every young woman should have something beautiful that lasts.”

Oh, no.

My eyes began burning again, and the slight change in Elira’s expression told me she’d noticed immediately.

She fastened the bracelet around it, and the tiny star caught the light when I furned my hand.

It was perfect.

More than the presents themselves, I loved everything surrounding them-the balloons floating overhead, the cake waiting across the room, Lucas and Mason bickering nearby, and Elira sitting beside me with the same easy affection she gave her own children.

As though having me here was the most natural thing in the world.

The thought caught somewhere behind my ribs, and I pushed it aside before it could make the moment heavier than t wanted it to be.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Elira squeezed my hand. “You’re very welcome.”

I was still admiring the bracelet when a familiar voice carried across the room.

“My turn.”

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My stomach immediately betrayed me.

Zane pushed away from the wall and started toward me, but there was one very noticeable problem.

His hands were empty.

I glanced behind him, half expecting the mysterious bag he’d gone to such ridiculous lengths to hide yesterday to materialize somewhere.

Nothing.

“Where’s my present?” I asked.

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Impatient.”

“I’ve been wondering what you bought since yesterday.”

“That was the idea,” he said, looking far too pleased with himself.

He had definitely enjoyed watching me suffer.

When he reached me, he held out his hand. “Come on.”

I eyed his palm before looking up at him. “Where?”

“Upstairs.”

“Why is my present upstairs?”

“Because bringing it down would’ve ruined the surprise.”

That answered almost nothing, but curiosity won. I slipped my hand into his, and Zane pulled me to my feet.

The twins immediately moved to follow us.

Zane glanced back at them. “No.”

Lucas stopped. “Why?”

“Because it’s her present.”

“But we want to see,” Mason complained.

“You can see it later.”

Both boys launched into protests, which Zane ignored completely as he led me toward the door.

I followed him into the hallway, but we hadn’t even reached the stairs when his free hand disappeared into his pocket and came back holding a strip of black fabric.

My feet stopped moving.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Zane, no.”

He turned toward me, amusement already creeping across his face. “You don’t even know what I’m doing.”

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“You’re holding a blindfold. There aren’t many possibilities.”

His mouth twitched. “Turn around.”

I stared at him. “Why?”

“Because I’m putting this on you.”

“I know that.”

“Then we’re making progress.”

I should have refused simply because he was enjoying this far too much, but I wanted to see what he’d been hiding since yesterday even more. After giving him one last distrustful glance, I turned around.

Zane stepped in close behind me and swept my hair gently over one shoulder. The backs of his fingers grazed my neck in the process, sending an unwanted little shiver down my spine before the fabric covered my eyes and everything disappeared into darkness.

My hand reached blindly for him, and his fingers immediately closed around mine.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured.

The tension in my shoulders loosened before I could help it.

Then his other arm slipped around my waist, bringing the solid warmth of his body close enough that suddenly the blindfold wasn’t the thing occupying most of my attention.

“Can you see anything?” he asked.

“No.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Zane”

His quiet laugh brushed much too close to my ear. “Just checking.”

“You’ve been waiting all day to do this, haven’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

He guided me toward the stairs, and I quickly discovered that walking blindfolded was significantly harder than movies made it look.

“Step,” Zane warned.

“I know there are steps.”

“You nearly missed the first one, so I’m going to keep telling you.”

“I did not nearly miss it.”

My foot landed a little too close to the edge, and his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me firmly against him.

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Shut up.”

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The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

His chest brushed my back as he leaned closer. “Careful, Trouble.”

Heat rushed into my cheeks. Having him this close wasn’t exactly helping me concentrate

With one of his hands holding mine and his other arm firm around my waist, I wasn’t going to fall. Even so, I took the rest of the stairs slowly until the floor leveled beneath my feet.

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“How much farther?”

“Thirty-seven miles.”

I stopped walking, and the laugh he tried to suppress immediately gave him away.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Keep moving.”

He guided me farther down the hallway while I tried to count turns and work out where he was taking me. We eventually stopped, and a door opened somewhere ahead.

The faint scent swimming in the air told me where we were before Zane said anything.

“My bedroom?”

“Maybe.”

My curiosity shot straight through the roof. “Zane.”

“Wait.”

His hands settled on my shoulders and moved me a little to the left before he stepped away. Something rustled somewhere ahead of me, followed by the soft sound of movement, and then his presence returned behind me.

His fingers found the knot at the back of my head.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“That’s surprisingly trusting.”

“Take it off before I hit you.”

“There she is,” he murmured, unmistakable amusement in his voice.

The fabric loosened, and light flooded my vision.