by Fox, Cathryn
“My neighbors set this up every year for the kids.”
“It’s a maze?” he asks.
“Yeah, want to do it?”
He scratches his head and when I shine the light on him, he says, “Can you turn that off?” He used those exact words when I shone the light on him in his bedroom that first night, the night that feels like it happened so long ago.
“Sorry,” I apologize and turn it off. I run into the maze and he curses under his breath as he follows behind me.
“Where the hell are you?” he asks, and I run, loving the wind in my face, and just wanting to be twelve again, no worries, no hurt…
“Marco,” he calls out and I laugh.
“Polo,” I say and run around the stalks, coming to a dead end. I turn and take the right when I spot his shadow in the distance.
“Marco.”
His voice is close, and I keep running. When I get to a safe distance away, I whisper, “Polo.” I can’t stop the chuckle in my throat. It rises up and gives away my location as I try to get past him. He reaches out and snatches me by the waist.
“Got you,” he says, and tugs me to him. The chuckle dies on my lips as his heat reaches out to me, the space between us filling with want, need, and volatile energy.
“Ella,” he whispers in the dark, and I wet my lips, wanting his mouth on mine.
“Yeah?”
He pushes my hair back, and tucks it behind my ears and my entire body tingles, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. His finger lingers near my ear, and trail down along my neck. His touch is like fire on my skin as I pull in a fast breath. A noise sounds in the distance, an animal scurrying in the night, but we continue to stand there, face to face, our bodies close, aligned perfectly. Before I can think better of it, I put my hands on his shoulders, just for one second—one last time—wanting to feel him.
He leans into me, and his warm breath washes over my face. I wish I could see his eyes. But I’m being selfish, taking what isn’t mine even though it seems to be what we both want. Sometimes life just isn’t fair. I drop my hands, and step into him, pressing my face against his heart. His hands close around me, like he too knows we can’t do this. In the dark of the night we stand there, two lost souls.
“Ivy’s pregnant,” he finally says, his voice low, soft…afraid.
I inch back, and as his features form in the dark, I tell him, “I know.”
“You heard?”
“I didn’t mean to. I was coming into the kitchen to get the water.” Suddenly feeling confined in the maze, I take his hand and lead him out. We walk in silence again until we reach our farm and I drop down and press my back against an apple tree. Landon sits next to me, and I stare at the stars as his thigh presses against mine. I like him next to me like this, like we’re the only two people in the world awake.
“I’m…scared,” he admits, and his honesty, his fear, rakes me raw inside. “Here I never thought I could be more frightened than I was that day at the movie theater.”
“What happened?” I ask quietly. His hand goes to his cheek, to his scars, and I adjust my position and sit cross-legged facing him. “You don’t have to tell me the details, if you don’t want to.”
He shifts positions, and sits cross-legged to face me. “It’s not something I talk about. Not something I want to relive. I wouldn’t even go to counselling. I just wanted to forget it.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” I put my hand on his legs and he gathers it up. His warm palm closes over my smaller hand. He holds me like that for a long time, and I just absorb his heat, feeling closer to him than I ever have before. His head lifts and when his dark eyes meet mine, something passes between us, and brings us closer together. My heart beats heavily in my chest, and I shift, just to get a little closer.
“It was crazy,” he begins, and I suspect opening up like this is hard for him. I remain silent, letting him tell his story his own way. “Brady and I skipped class and went to the movies. It was a kids movie, but we didn’t care. We were in grade nine, and anything beat English.”
“You were fourteen?”
“Yeah.”
I smile at him. “You hated English back then too, huh?”
He snorts. “Yeah, I guess.” His lips go tight. “The theater wasn’t that crowded. Just some teens skipping school, some elderly people filling their day, and some kids there with their parents. There was this one couple, early twenties, and I remember thinking they seemed out of place. Later I came to learn they were in the dark theater because they didn’t want anyone to find them.”
From the way he shakes his head it’s easy to tell this is the story, this couple is what caused the problem. “Cheaters, huh?”
“Yup.” I go quiet again, and let him talk. “This woman’s husband was on to them, though. He showed up…” He stops to give a low, slow whistle and I stare at him, take in the twisted agony on his face. “He was totally armed, Ella. Knives and guns, and he was taking everyone out with him that day.”
“Jesus,” I whispered. “That must have been horrifying for you.”
“He killed his wife and her boyfriend first.” He holds his hand out and makes a noise like he’s shooting a gun. “He didn’t even talk to them, just bang bang, and they were dead. Kids started screaming. Everyone started screaming, I was fucking screaming, and he continued to take us out one by one. Brady called 911, but I knew…I knew the cops would never reach us in time, and all those kids were going to die. The exit was behind the gunman, and we were stuck. As soon as I realized that, I reacted. I don’t even really remember reacting, but I did.” He squeezes my hand a little harder, and closes his eyes, and I hate this trip down memory lane he’s taking. I shouldn’t have opened the door, shouldn’t have asked, but there’s a part of me that thinks he needs to get this out.
“What…what did you do?” I ask, and close my hand over his, my throat tight as goose bumps spread across my arms.
“I ducked down, crawled to the other side of the aisle, and just as he pointed the gun at Brady, I jumped him. The gun went off, and he dropped it, and I was so goddamn frightened that he got Brady. The guy grabbed his knife and started stabbing at me over his shoulder. It was like something straight out of a bad horror movie. I held on, though. I don’t even know how.”
“You were so brave.”
He shrugs like he wasn’t. “When I was young, I used to watch MMA in secret. Mom didn’t like it. But I learned some moves, and I just kept my arm around his neck, squeezing and squeezing while he cut me.”
“Landon…I can’t even imagine. Did he hurt Brady?”
“No, and while I choked him, Brady got the kids and elderly out safely.”
“How did you get out?”
“He passed out and went down. I still kept strangling him, until Brady eventually pulled me off, and dragged me outside. It felt like it went on for hours. The police showed up, and it was total chaos.”
“So scary.” I free one of my hands and lightly brush his scars.
“It could have been worse. He could have damaged this pretty face.”
I stare at him, and it takes a full five seconds to realize he just cracked a joke. “I happen to like this face, Landon.”
He grins. “I’ve never told anyone that story. Never thought I could. Brady relayed the events to the cops, and our names were never released to the media. None of us wanted reporters parked outside our houses.” A long pause and then, “Anyway, that’s why I take so many English classes.”
While that makes little sense to me, everything about him relaxes, like getting that off his chest was a healing balm to his soul. “What do you mean?”
“I thought one day I might like to write a book, or a screenplay.”
My mouth drops open. There is just so much more to this guy than I ever realized. “Maybe someday I’ll produce it.”
He grins. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agree and shift positions until I’m leaning against the tree.
He moves in beside me. “You saved a lot of people. You saved Brady.”
“He’s my brother. I protect those I care about, Ella. Fiercely.”
I nod, realizing that about him. “It’s nice that you two have such a tight bond. Peyton and I are close like that, and when the baby happens, you won’t be alone. Brady will be there for you.”
“Yeah, he will be.” His head nods, his mood thoughtful. “That makes me feel a little less frightened.”
Our thighs touch, and I just want to snuggle in next to him, hold him close and tell him everything will be okay, although I’m not sure it will be. “I’ll be there for you too, Landon.”
“You will?”
“Yes. You’ve got me,” I say. Truthfully, he had me long before he ever came over to talk to me on that football field that fateful day, long before I ever fell into his bed. Now however, is not the time to tell him. The chance for us is long gone.
20
Landon
Eight months later:
After a long tiring day of training beneath the Atlanta sun, I throw myself onto the bed and glance around the hotel room Brady and I are sharing. With both of us now playing for Atlanta, and spending so much time here, we need to soon find permanent residences. After signing our contracts, we bought homes in California, where we want to be off season, and of course, Ivy and my daughter Piper needed a place to live. I’m not about to shirk my responsibilities.
I pull out my phone and stare at the screen saver and admire the image of my little girl, with all that red hair and stark blue eyes, wrapped in a pink blanket. My heart squeezes in my too tight chest as I look at my baby, and consider where my life is today. I’d never given a whole lot of consideration to being a dad—my whole life was spent trying to make it into the NFL—but I’m trying like hell to be the best dad for my girl. I’m also trying to do right by Ivy, and everyone else, but sometimes it’s not easy.
Everyone expects us to get married, and as the only boy in the family, Mom gave me grandma’s ring. I can’t quite bring myself to put it on Ivy’s hand. I have to do the right thing. I know that, although Ivy told me straight up she wants to lose her baby weight before we get engaged, or married. She wants the perfect engagement pictures for Instagram. Honestly, everything happened so fast and I never even considered us a couple, then or now. Ivy would tell you differently, but I’ve been so caught up in the whirlwind of her pregnancy, finishing college and signing on with Atlanta, that I don’t know if I’m coming or going anymore.
How can I possibly ask Ivy to marry me when it’s not what I want, when I’m in love with her sister? That night under the apple tree, the connection Ella and I shared, the deep bond that blossomed between us, I knew for sure it was her in my bed, and that she’d seen me with Ivy. I can’t even imagine how awful that was for her, or what she thought of me afterward. But she stood by my side and watched as Ivy gave birth to my little girl.
She’s been my rock. Always there for Ivy and Piper, and even more so now that I’m away at training camp. She also supported me when Ivy started suffering from post-partum depression right after Piper was born in early June. Ella basically took over the care of my child. Heck, she’s crazy busy herself, interning at Paramount, and she’s practically raising Piper all on her own. As for Ivy, after college, and the baby, she pretty much lost interest in everything except her friends, who she’s still going out with, and I guess that is good for her mental health. I mean, she loves Piper. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at her and I’m trying to be a good partner. Ella and I have gotten her help. The doctors say with the right medication and therapy, she’ll come back around, and settle into parenthood. In the meantime, I’m counting on my sister-in-law to take care of my almost two-month-old more than I really should. I’m going to have to talk to Ivy about getting a nanny. Maybe she’ll be more responsive to it now. She probably wouldn’t want to appear to the world like she isn’t the one taking care of Piper, and she’d just say Ella will help her.
I put my arm over my forehead and am about to flick the TV on, to watch something mindless as I fall asleep when my phone pings. I sit up a little straighter as Ella Facetimes me.
“Hey,” I say after swiping my finger across the screen. Ella comes into view, and my stupid heart beats that much faster, the way it always does when we talk. “Everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” she assures me, but I’m worried about her. She’s been burning the candle at both ends, and no amount of makeup can hide those dark, sleep-deprived smudges under her eyes. A good indication that Piper is keeping her up at night. But she’s a great aunt, and will do anything for her niece, her sister, and for me.
“She’s doing great.” She turns the phone so I can see Piper sleeping in her cozy bassinet.
“How are you doing?” she asks, her eyes narrowing in on me and I appreciate her genuine concern.
“Good. Tired.”
“Training is going well?”
“Coach is kicking my ass, but I’m not complaining. I’m learning a lot.”
“Let me know when you play in a game. Piper insists on watching, which will, of course, force me to suffer through a game.” That makes me chuckle and she laughs right along with me. “I bet you’re doing great, Landon. You’re the golden boy.”
I’m living my father’s dream, but it’s my dream too. There isn’t anything else I’d rather do. Then again, how would I know? I was steered into football since I was born. But I never wanted to let my father down. I never wanted to let my mother down either, which is why I have to do the right thing and put a ring on Ivy’s finger.
But is it really the right thing for you, Landon?
“How is Ivy?”
Her smile dissolves. “She’s okay.” She glances back at Piper, and when my sweet girl makes a cooing sound, she tucks her blanket around her tighter. “She’s out again tonight. Aunty Ella is on duty.”
I scrub my face. “Where did she go this time?”
“She didn’t tell you?” she asks, and I hate to admit that while Ivy and I have a child together, dialogue isn’t our strong suit…not much is, actually.
“No, I haven’t heard from her.” I’ve sent a few texts, but she hasn’t answered. I really hate how much she puts on her sister, but I’m trying to understand postpartum.
“She met up with some friends from college.” She gives a casual shrug but it’s easy to tell she’s not happy about the whole thing. “I think they went for drinks. Maybe it will be good for her, you know. Help her mental state.”
What about Ella’s mental state? Who the hell is there for her when she needs help? Goddammit, none of this is fair.
Ah, but you learned a long time ago life isn’t fair.
“Yeah, maybe.” I shift my pillow and adjust it behind my back. “I’m sorry, Ella. I’ll be home in four days, and I’ll see about hiring a nanny if Ivy isn’t back to herself.” Honestly, training camp can’t end quick enough. I don’t have a lot of time off before our season starts in September, but I’ll have a few days to spend with family.
“Don’t be sorry.” She leans in and drops a soft kiss onto Piper’s forehead and my breathing changes, becomes a little ragged. I hate being away from them. “I don’t mind spending time with this cutie. Tomorrow we’re going to the pier to get Christmas pictures.”
“Ah, it’s July.”
She laughs and my heart swells when she smiles at me. “I take it Christmas in July isn’t a big thing where you grew up.”
“Not at all.” I shake my head and laugh. Honestly, what would I do without Ella? Over the past eight months, she’s been rock solid. That day under the apple tree, she said she’d be there for me, and she wasn’t lying. My gaze moves over her face, a little thinner now, her cheekbones more defined. She touches her hair, which is darker now and cut short to frame her gorgeous face. It looks good on her. She retired her overalls and now dresses professionally. But I liked her in her overalls. I liked her in everything,
especially my arms.
“How’s work?” I ask, and glance at my ladybug keychain, needing to occupy my mind with something else. I love that she took it on her interview, and won the intern position. “Spielberg finally realize your talent and come looking?”
“Hardly.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
She chuckles. “Men can be so dense sometimes.” She turns the phone to show me a pile of books and papers on the sofa. “Work is good, though. Really busy, and while it’s not my dream job, it can help me get there.”
“You deserve to have all your dreams come true.”
She smiles, but I know her well enough to know it’s forced. She points a finger at me. “I’m still waiting on that script from you.”
“I’ve been trying to write it out, in between touchdowns,” I tease.
“Someday, Landon.” Her voice goes soft, intimate almost, and I grip the phone tighter, cradle it in my hands. “I’ve been talking about you to Piper.” She crinkles her nose. “I’ve been telling her all about your famous touchdowns.” Her soft voice curls around me, through me, teasing the deep longing inside me that won’t go away.
“I appreciate that,” I tell her. I smile and think about the touchdown that brought Ella to the party at my house last year, the same touchdown that led her to my bed later that night. As my body warms, remembering her soft skin, and enticing scent, arousal hits like a two-hundred-pound linebacker, but I quickly shut it down.
I clear my throat and struggle to marshal my thoughts. “Want to watch a movie together, or do you have to get to work?”
A knock sounds at her door. She glances away and then answers, “I actually have to work. That’s Nathan. He’s here to go over some work things with me. But don’t worry, I won’t take my eyes off Piper.”
A wave of jealousy I have no right to feel kicks me in the nuts. Jesus, what the hell is the matter with me? I want her to find someone. I want her to be happy, to have a family of her own. Ella deserves that more than any woman I know.