Fool Me Twice

by Aarons, Carrie

  “You what?” His voice is quiet.

  I know what he’s asking. “I love you. I should have said it so long ago, back before the night you even whispered it before you fell asleep. But I-I didn’t know what to do. I felt trapped between loving my best friend and loving you. Between honoring her and moving forward with the only guy I’ve ever felt this right about. What should I have done? Please, just tell me, because I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and do it.”

  I hear it, the begging in my voice, the pleading. The tears that have been coming frequently since I’ve been home on break don’t fail me now, and I swipe angrily at them. Lincoln doesn’t deserve for me to break down. I’m the one who did this to us.

  “You’re still grieving,” he says, more an observation than a question.

  But I need to explain. “God, yes. I think about her every day. How unfair it is that she’s not here. How fucking terrible cancer is. I think about what she’d be studying, the friends she’d make. You know Warchester was her first choice? I wonder where we’d be in ten years, if she’d have children. I, and everyone who loved her, will never know. We don’t get to know, and that’s what kills me. Some days, I can’t stand being here while she’s not.”

  My heart breaks right open, the severe cracks it in giving way.

  Lincoln’s expression gives way from its stony appearance to a smidge of empathy. “She was a really great girl.”

  I nod, trying to swallow the emotion in my throat. “She was. But, in this case, we were both so terribly wrong. I’m so sorry, Lincoln. I need to tell you a lot of things, but an apology should come first. What I did was horrible. I hurt you, and I’ll never be able to fully forgive myself for it.”

  “Would you do it all over again?” he asks, breathless.

  I shrug. “It got me to you, one way or another. I don’t think I would have taken that chance if it weren’t for Cat’s bucket list, no matter my intention. Maybe this is what was meant to happen.”

  “I don’t know if I can ever trust you again. When I found that list, fuck, Henley. It felt like my world was going up in flames. I was in love with you. Hell, I’m still in love with you. I can’t seem to turn it off, no matter how much it feels like you lodged a knife in my back. One second, I’m resolved with not being with you, and the next, I want to run straight back to you.”

  “I love you.” I walk to him, kneeling down so that I can hold his face in my hands. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now, and you deserve to know that. You have every right to hate me, to not get past this. But I need to tell you before I can’t again, that you’re the perfect man to me, Lincoln. You’re kind in a way that a lot of people aren’t, you don’t need to show it but you act on it. You’re so confident in everything you do, sometimes in a way that is so annoying but endearing, nonetheless. When you look at me, I feel like the best version of myself. It scares me how much I care about you. You’re funny, damn funny, even though I know it’s only going to your head when I say that. And when I fall asleep in your arms, it’s the one place on earth I feel fully complete. I’m not saying this is going to be easy, it’ll probably be really fucking hard. You won’t trust me, I’ll retreat, we’ll fight. But I want this, Lincoln. I want you. I’ll do whatever it takes. Please, give me one last shot.”

  I know I’m begging, that I look weak and it goes against everything I stand for. I’m a strong woman, one who doesn’t need anyone else. But I know when I’m in the wrong, and I can own up to that. Especially if it means fighting for a love that fills me up like no other.

  Lincoln covers my hands with his, where they rest on his cheeks, and closes his eyes.

  “Despite it all, I still love you. You’re infuriating and I hate you more right now than I love you, but I can’t stand feeling like this anymore. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I stormed out of your dorm room. You’re hellfire and unbendable, but I fucking love that. I’ve never felt more myself than when I’m with you.”

  He doesn’t agree to anything, instead, we just pause, our lips just millimeters apart, while he searches my face.

  “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve gone through. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost someone that close to me. Just losing you for a few weeks, I’m going insane. It seems so easy, to just go right back. To forget all of this. But we can’t do that. What happened … it changes this. But I also don’t want to walk away. I can’t walk away.”

  “It guts me that I hurt you.” Lincoln thumbs away a tear that falls down my cheek.

  “I want you, Jimmy. Only you. We’ll figure it out. No, it won’t be easy. But nothing we truly want ever is.”

  “I love you, Lincoln.”

  I barely get the words out before our lips collide, meeting in such a passionate kiss that I nearly bowl over. I’ve been waiting endless days and nights to feel his mouth on mine again, to feel the redemption of his caress. We’re not out of the woods, not by a mile, but he’s here. He wants to try.

  He loves me.

  That’s all I can ask for. Now, it’s my turn to prove just how much he means to me.

  39

  Lincoln

  Using the key, I open the dorm room door.

  “Well, just let yourself in, why don’t you?”

  Her voice is teasing, and Henley is facing away from me, making her bed with freshly washed sheets, as I come into the room.

  “You’re the one who gave me the key,” I say, coming up behind her.

  I should help her, reach a hand in and grab a corner to make this process faster, but instead, I latch my hands to her hips, admiring the ass I can’t wait to see bare and beneath me.

  “You could help, you know.” I don’t even have to see her face to know she’s rolling her eyes.

  “But this is so much more fun.” My lips find the sensitive spot on her neck.

  It’s been about ten days since we talked at her house, and in that time we’ve invested in conversations. We’ve had big ones, small ones. Ones that have ended in tears, others that have ended in needing space, and some that end up with me inside her, pummeling away both of our feelings. Ten days does not make up for all the mistrust she created, but we’re on our way to healing. We’re in a much better place than we were, and our bond is getting stronger every day.

  “Thanks for coming over. It really means a lot.” Henley’s voice and expression are sincere when she turns to me.

  I circle my arms around her, breathing in her scent and feeling complete. It’s our first night back at Warchester, the eve of the start of the second semester, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but with her.

  She and Rhiannon still have some issues to iron out, but at least she gave us the night to ourselves and headed to Alden’s. They’re going to be okay, just like my friends will have to be now that I’ve chosen to get back together with Henley. Janssen is still skeptical, and told me he’s going to make her take a lie detector test weekly, but I know he’s just looking out for me.

  “Is that bed almost ready? I want to destroy it.”

  We’ve had to sneak around while at home, in basements and our cars, while trying to have sex. It was kind of hot, having to revert back to high school ways, but having our own beds in our own private dorms is one hundred times better.

  “Hold your horses. I ordered us calzones, buffalo chicken, your favorite.”

  I rub my hands together. “I like this Henley apology tour. I could get used to this.”

  She scowls, but I see the uncertainty in her eyes. Every time I make a comment like that, she doubts herself. I don’t mean to make her do it, but I also want us not to forget how we got here.

  “Hey, I love you, you know that?” I nod and press my forehead to hers.

  She gulps. “I love you, too.”

  “So, what do we do until the calzones get here?” I wink.

  Henley pushes away from me. “Well, you could do that advanced reading for class that I know you didn’t do.”

  “Come on, do
n’t get on me about studying yet,” I whine. “What am I going to do with no football for another six months?”

  “Actually focus on school?” Henley chuckles.

  I did have one thing to look forward to.

  “Well, we do get to go home for Tyla and Brant’s adoption.”

  My parents finally got word from the court. After all the judge’s considerations, and the evidence the social workers presented, she is giving my parents full legal custody of Tyla and Brant. After all the strife, all the heartache, the court battles and the pain the kids have had to go through, they’re finally coming home. To the right home.

  Their adoption hearing is at the end of the month, though it’s just a technicality at this point. And my parents are having a huge party afterward, to celebrate something we’ve been holding back being happy about for years.

  Of course, it doesn’t mean Cheryl is completely out of the picture. She’ll still be able to petition for visits, but my parents will have much more control over them now. She’ll have to submit for drug tests and prove she’s living in a safe environment. Which means, no boyfriends with rap sheets on the premises. If she wants to have a relationship with her children, she’ll try to make those things a priority.

  But for now, we don’t have to worry about it. Because they’re with us. Permanently.

  And I’m with Henley, permanently. We still have days of doubting, ones where she is distant and grieving, and others where I’m sullen and can’t get the past out of my head.

  But this is the girl I’ve chosen to love. No, in reality, I never had any choice.

  Henley Rowan came into my life like a meteor, destroying anything that came before her and changing the landscape of my life forever after.

  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Epilogue

  Henley

  Two Years Later

  “I think there is enough man meat in this room to feed an entire barbecue of hungry jersey chasers.”

  My lips are at Lincoln’s ear, and my boyfriend chuckles, patting my knee over the skin-hugging black dress I have on. After all, I have to look sexy as fuck to ward away those chasers, especially after tonight.

  You know, when my man goes number one in the draft.

  “Why are you worrying about man meat, you’ve got yours right here.” His eyebrow spikes, those heterochromatic eyes twinkling with sarcasm.

  “Just gotta protect what’s mine. You think I should go all Rachel McAdams at the MTV Movie Awards and run up on stage with a passionate recreation of The Notebook kiss?” Now that I say it, it doesn’t sound like a half bad idea.

  “I think that might be just a little overboard, Jimmy.” Lincoln wraps an arm around my shoulder and drops a kiss on my lips.

  “Will you two stop making out already? I’m trying to get drafted here.” Janssen rolls his eyes from across the table, and Jamie chuckles next to him.

  Those two are quite the pair, but she’s managed to keep him in line and locked down for two years, so something must be going right.

  We’re all sitting at a table front and center in the large auditorium that the 2022 Professional Football Draft is being held in, since Lincoln and Janssen are among the top eligible players for teams to choose from. There is no doubt they’ll both go in the first round, which is why they were given prime seating at a table surrounded by their friends and family. Have to give the cameras a good angle to watch us all ugly cry when their names get called.

  To Lincoln’s right are his parents, while Chase, Tyla, and Brant sit to my left. Janssen is flanked by his parents and one sister, who brought her husband with her. And then there is Jamie and me, the devoted girlfriends.

  In the past two years, Lincoln and I have become more solid than ever. We’ve weathered college football seasons, his time away at the various training camps he’s been invited to, a four-month stint where I studied in London with an internship at one of the top photography magazines in the world. We ate the long distance and swallowed it like champs. Because once we decided to be together, there was no other option.

  He is my person, the one I can’t wait to talk to about every little thing that happens in my day, and the man I can’t fall asleep without. I help him through his vulnerable moments, especially the tough losses on the field, though there haven’t been many. Last spring, he went on vacation with my parents and me, and they got to know him even better than they did from the couple of short visits we took home. They’re officially obsessed with him, and I think my mom might want him for herself.

  “Oh, here we go!” Lincoln’s mom claps, shushing us, and we all turn to look at the commissioner who is walking out on to the stage.

  “Welcome to the 2022 Professional Football Draft.” He waits for the obligatory applause. “We have an exceptional class this year, and I know you men will go on to do great things both in and out of this league.”

  After a few more opening lines, he steps off stage. Now the clock is on for the first pick, the first team getting ten minutes to place their first-round pick.

  “I can barely look.” I hide my eyes in Lincoln’s shoulder.

  “No matter what happens, you’re coming with me.” He kisses my forehead.

  We’ve already decided this. I have one year left of college, since Lincoln opted to leave early to declare for the draft, but after that, I’m moving to whichever city he gets signed by. I can always travel for work, or start my own local photography company. That’s the blessing of my job, and I want to be where Lincoln is.

  He’s become the most important thing in my life, my career coming in a close second. It’s funny, I always thought it would be the other way around, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re truly in love with someone.

  Catherine goes through my mind almost daily, still. She’ll be a person I never forget, and I even let Lincoln visit her grave with me recently. I try to go every time I’m home, but it’s usually a solitary act. Finally, I was able to move through some of the stages of grief. What remains is a dull sadness each time I initially think of her, but the immediate feeling that follows is one of fond, happy memories. I believe she’d be proud of me, proud of where I am.

  Looking at the clock, it’s only been three minutes since the ten-minute window started.

  “This is agony,” I whine to Lincoln.

  Just as I say it, the chime sounds over the auditorium, the whole crowd going into a whispered roar as we await the pick. Some guy in a suit walks on stage, holding an envelope. My heart begins beating so fast, I feel like I might pass out. Lincoln’s hand that’s laced through mine squeezes so hard, I just know he’s on the edge of his seat.

  “With the first pick in the draft, New York selects … Lincoln Kolb!” he says.

  Our whole table erupts into yelps, hugs and tears. I kiss Lincoln with everything I have as he stands, a goofy smile on his face, and buttons his suit jacket. Then he walks to the podium to take his rightful place as football’s future legend.

  I’m hugging his parents, Jamie, Janssen, everyone, when I hear his deep, charming voice come across the speaker system.

  “I’d like to ask my girlfriend to come up here.”

  Lincoln is saying the words, but they don’t fully sink in because I’m just in awe of this moment. It’s like when you see people on TV, not able to react to things in real time because they’re too caught up in the moment. I think I might black out, because when Chase is yelling at me to go up there, I’m thoroughly confused. But I stand, because Lincoln is motioning for me to join him.

  My feet barely register that I’m walking up to the podium, the claps of those around me muted to my own ears. I feel like I’m in a tunnel, my vision only on Lincoln.

  When I reach the stage, he takes my hand, helps me up the stairs. I give him a puzzled look, because I truly have no idea if me being up here is even allowed.

  “I know this is a little unconventional,” he says into the microphone, holding my hand with his free one. “But I tol
d myself if I went first, I’d do this. There is no one else I’d rather share this moment with. You deserve every bit as much credit for getting us here as I do, and for as long as I’m blessed to play in this league, there is no one else I want by my side for the ride. So …”

  He places the microphone on the stand next to us and pulls something out of his jacket pocket.

  And then kneels.

  Holy. Shit.

  “Oh my God.” It pops out of my mouth because I can’t think anything else.

  “Henley, will you marry me?” Lincoln’s face is shining so brightly, his smile warm and loving, portraying everything good and wonderful in this world.

  What in the world? He opens the box he’s holding up, and inside is a vintage gold band with a big center opal and a dozen tiny diamonds surrounding it. It looks like a flower and is so unique from what anyone else is wearing. He knows me so well that he can even pick out the perfect engagement ring without even asking my opinion.

  Engagement ring. Marry him. The phrases race through my mind, and I swallow against the knot in my throat to get the words out.

  “Of course. Yes!” I cry, lunging for him.

  He catches me as he stands, and the cheers around us are deafening. I’m going to marry Lincoln Kolb. He’s going to be my husband.

  “You’re stuck with me now, Jimmy,” he whispers in my ear.

  “Wouldn’t want it any other way, Stallion,” I breathe back.

  As he slides the ring onto my finger, and we’re ushered off the stage because holy moly have we eaten up a lot of broadcast time, I’m still in disbelief.

  I might have started this whole thing as an elaborate trap, a way to fool Lincoln Kolb into falling in love with me.

  In the end, though, the jokes on me. Not only did he fool me once, or twice, but he fools me endlessly. Though now, both of our eyes are open. We’re clearly choosing to walk down this path together.