MasukHey guys, what do you think of this romantic gesture from Greg? Do you think he's gone too far or not far enough? Should he make his intentions clearer, or should he back off and let Jen be happy? I would love to hear your thoughts about this. Please leave a comment, and I look forward to hearing from you on this.
The line rings twice before Stuart Lockwood answers. “Greg?” I immediately hear the concern in his voice. “Everything okay? Is Jen alright?” I smile softly despite my nerves. “She’s fine,” I say quickly. “She’s perfect, actually.” Stuart exhales audibly. “Good. You scared me for a second there.”
Monday morning arrives far too quickly for my liking. After the chaos and adrenaline of the weekend in Foxborough at the Gillette Stadium, waking up in bed next to Jen with the biggest smile on my face feels almost unreal. My body is still buzzing with leftover excitement from my victory, and every
For a moment, I feel that crushing guilt all over again. I don’t deserve her. I know that. But God, I love her. The song ends to roaring applause, but I barely hear it. Anxiety suddenly claws back into my chest, heavy and sharp. I turn away quickly and head back toward the pit. Focus. I need to focu
The stadium lights burn bright against the darkening evening sky, throwing silver across the packed dirt track and turning the haze of kicked-up dust into glowing clouds. The air smells of gasoline, hot rubber, sweat, and rain-soaked earth. To me, it smells like home. My chest tightens as I stand
My dad hugs me next just as tightly. “You’ve worked harder than anyone I know.” I laugh shakily against his shoulder. “I think I’m running purely on caffeine at this point.” “That sounds about right,” Chase calls from nearby. I immediately laugh as my brother pulls me into another hug. “You surviv
By Friday afternoon, I am fairly certain I have survived what could only be described as hell week. The past several days have blurred together into one endless cycle of stress and exhaustion. Exam after exam. Meeting after meeting. File after file. Paper after paper. Every morning starts before sun
“Who is the friend you are talking about, whom you’re staying with? Is it anybody we know?” Shit. I can feel myself starting to panic. I look at the guys on the table, then at Jen, then at Andrea, who looks like she could eat me alive with one of her eyebrows raised and lips tilted to one side, then
“If you even think about embarrassing me in front of all these cameras and my dad, I will make your life hell. Memory or not I don’t give a shit Greg. You are mine and only mine.”“Whatever you say, Princess, I’ll do just as you say, but I’m warning you now, Andrea, if you Mav or Garrett hurt Jen, y
Randy came and found me and took me over to the team pit, where a table and a microphone are set up ready for me to make my statement. What I am surprised to see behind the table on a trailer and stand is a bike in disarray. That can’t be my bike, surely. The front of the bike is pointing upwards, a
“Well, first of all, I don’t remember you, so why would I text you? Two, why are you and all these people surrounding me? And finally,” I turn and face all the cameras and mics, “I will do a press conference before the event starts at my teams' pit and will make a statement. No questions after my st







