by Elyse Riggs
The truck pulls us slowly down one street after another as we wind our way around town. I smile, remembering these parades from the days when I was a kid.
I was always so excited that I’d barely sleep the night before. Those parades used to go by so fast when I was a kid. And now it seems like forever as we slowly pull forward.
There’s a break in the crowd as we head to a connecting road when I hear my phone chime a new message. Since we’re in between crowds, I pull the phone out of my pocket and glance down. Huh, it’s from Chad.
Chad: Hey, buddy.
Weird, I think. He hasn’t called me buddy either electronically or in real life in years. I double check that the text is, in fact, from Chad Lowe the agent before continuing.
Me: Hey, Chad. What’s up?
Chad: I had a guy take video of your workout the other day. The tape looks good, Jake. Really good. It looks like evidence that ankle finally got a chance to heal. I forwarded some clips to the Eagles, Saints, and Cowboys and I’m getting some interest.
Holy shit. I stare at the phone like it’s about to grow wings and fly away from me. I had all but given up on my career. I’m damn lucky Chad didn’t. But what does it mean?
Me: That’s great news. What do you want me to do?
Chad: Hang in there, keep doing whatever it is that you’re doing, okay? I’ll let you know what’s next just as soon as I get something set up.
Me: Okay.
I feel a little bit light-headed, so I sit back, stunned. Honestly, Chad is the last one I expected to hear from.
“Everything okay?” Brandon asks.
I look up at him just as we clear the side street and re-appear to the raucous crowd. “Yeah,” I answer. “Everything is great.”
As soon as the parade is over, I practically leap out of the parade float onto the pavement. But it’s funny because I’m so excited I can’t feel my legs as I run over to Angie’s float.
She sees me sprinting at her and smiles before looking concerned. In her defense, I’m probably smiling like some kind of maniac.
“I don’t know why you’re so happy, but if you think I’m going to flash my boobs at you, you’re at the wrong parade,” she winks at me, “so you’ll just have to wait until later.”
Then she gives me side-eye. “If you’re looking for more of Kaylee’s chocolate on the other hand, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”
She scans my face and figures out that it’s none of those things. Her expression turns perplexed. “What is it, Jake?”
She heads to the edge of the float and practically jumps down into my arms. I set her down next to me. Then it hits me that when I got the best possible news of my life, she’s the only one I wanted to share it with.
Honestly, I felt the same way when I got drafted, but I never go the chance to see her. Life feels even better than perfect right now.
I look down into her beautiful brown eyes and wipe away a stray hair that somehow escaped her floofy hat away from her face. “My agent texted me, Angie. The workout I did at Riley looks good. Chad says that the evidence of my ankle getting better might have a few teams interested in me!”
Her eyes shine with happiness and a smile takes over her face. “I knew you could do it, Jake.”
Angie sharing in my joy is everything I need for the moment to be complete.
Chapter 34
Angie
My old BMW squeaks to a halt in the circular driveway of Kaylee and Chase’s beach front mansion. Being engaged to a billionaire has its perks.
Fi’s red Mazda sedan is already here, so that makes me last.
As I get out of the car I admire the place all over again. I haven’t been here in months. Then I hear barking. It’s Cooper alerting everybody to my presence.
I smile as I walk up the entryway and knock.
“Come in, you maniac,” Kaylee yells. Her voice sounds far away. Probably because she’s in the kitchen as usual. And it’s a big ass house so she has to scream to be heard outside. “Never knock when I invite you. It just makes Cooper bark.”
As soon as I open the door and slip in, there’s a German Shepherd puppy running to attack me.
She looks serious as she bounds toward me and then at the last minute she smiles and jumps up on me while I scratch her ears. “Hi, Cooper. You remember me, don’t ya, girl.”
She wags her tail and then turns to lead me to Kaylee and Fi.
Fi’s sitting on the couch organizing wedding magazines. In front of her on the hand carved mahogany coffee table is an assortment of snacks that make my stomach rumble even though I’m smart enough to have eaten first.
Fi hears me come in and looks up. “Hey, girl. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your man is on every single sports news site right now.” She winks at me. “When’s that big scout workout?”
“Thursday,” I answer with a grin before I turn my attention to the kitchen. “You need a hand, Kaylee?”
“Nope.”
“I tried too, but you know how she is.” Fi shakes her head. “I think Kaylee’s secretly a witch or a wizard or something. That’s why we can’t ever watch her actually cook anything.”
That makes me laugh. Instead of sitting though, I cross the room to the glass doors that lead out to the back porch overlooking the ocean.
Since Kaylee loves the ocean view, the shades are open all the way. This place is wonderful.
“Great, now that you’re here, Angie, you get to be the tie-breaker for the romantic comedy movie.”
“Alright, what are my choices?”
“Sweet Home Alabama or When Harry Met Sally?”
“Oh, I’m going to have to go with Sweet Home Alabama,” I answer.
I hear Kaylee chime in from the kitchen. “Ha! Told ya.”
I cross back to Fi and sit down on the couch. There are so many magazines. “Holy cow, Kaylee. Where did you even find all these wedding dress magazines? I’ve never seen more than one or two at the grocery store.”
“Oh, I ordered them all,” Kaylee says as she enters the room with an additional tray of piping hot snacks and sets them down on a nearby end table before taking her spot on the couch on the other side of me, squishing me into the middle.
Kaylee grabs the remote. “Fine, Sweet Home Alabama it is.”
“Yay,” Fi says. “Okay, I was able to sort these magazines into stacks of about twenty for each of us. Happy hunting.” She hands Kaylee and I pink sharpies.
“So,” Kaylee says after hitting play and accepting her giant stack of magazines, “what’s it really like, sleeping with a giant, six-foot four tight end?”
She smirks at the last part and we all laugh.
“What?” Kaylee asks, “I’m engaged, I’m not dead.”
The girl talk has started early tonight. “Well, he does have an incredible ass,” I say, uncapping my sharpie as they both stare at me asking their nonverbal question and I make them wait, but only for a second, “fine, if you must know, he’s freaking huge.”
Fi and Kaylee giggle and each of them turn to face me. And now each of them has their hands spread out apart to indicate penis length, eyes wide.
“Oh come on,” Kaylee says, “which one of us is closer? It’s me, right?”
“No, Kaylee. I said he’s big, but nobody’s three feet long. He’s not fucking bigfoot,” I laugh, “and furthermore I’m not sure I’ve had enough alcohol yet for this conversation.”
Kaylee jumps up. “Thanks for reminding me, I have that bottle of wine in the back.”
“By the look on Angie’s face, we’re going to need at least two bottles of wine,” Fi counters with a smile.
“I’m really happy for you,” Fi says softly. “I was so worried about you when he came back. And then mad at him. And then surprised you slept with him. But everything’s going okay, right? He’s treating you better than before? I feel like I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster. I can’t believe how crazy it must be for you.”
“Oh yeah. He’s a dif
ferent guy than he was.” I answer. Then I hear the words that came out of my mouth and even I doubt it. He’s better, yes. Different? I’m not entirely sure.
Kaylee comes back and sets the bottle of wine and three chilled glasses on the already crowded coffee table.
“I can tell,” Fi continues, “it’s the way he lights up when he sees you, Angie. I’m happy for you.”
“Me too,” Kaylee adds, making me blush. I’m sure between actual talk of a relationship combined with the bigfoot penis comparison chart my face is probably crimson by now.
On the television screen is the New York Tiffany’s Engagement scene in Sweet Home Alabama. Thankfully, that scene grabs our attention every time.
When it’s done, I turn to my friends. “Hey, this night isn’t supposed to be about me. It’s supposed to be about Kaylee and her wedding.”
Cooper barks. Kaylee fills up the three wine glasses with a sparkling red.
“Okay, tonight is about Kaylee and Cooper,” I correct, patting her and scratching her ear. “Speaking of, when is Chase getting back from his trip?”
“Oh, he’s not sure yet,” Kaylee says, taking her seat again on the couch. “He’ll let me know. As usual. Should be soon, though.”
“Okay, wedding dress time.” I flip through the pages of gorgeous designer dresses. “Oh,” I say right away, “wow, this Vivienne Westwood is stunning.”
“I’m in love with this Marchesa Notte,” Fi gasps before holding up the picture for all of us to ooh and ahh.
“Wait,” I say as my sharpie is poised over a stunning dress, “I forgot. How many of these are we going to have to narrow it down to?”
“Just circle any that you like,” Kaylee laughs, “we’ll figure out our favorites later.”
“Okay,” I give in, “but I’m telling you, ninety percent of these dresses are going to be circled, Kaylee. Because one, they’re amazing, and two, you’ll look stunning in any of these.”
Kaylee takes a sip. “Alright, simmer down. Let’s get down to business. More drinking and circling, less talking.”
Chapter 35
Angie
I find myself sitting in the bleachers of Riley Field again. It’s a beautiful morning, sunny with a breeze and little puffy clouds. The smell of sun block fills the air.
And unlike last time I was here, the place is brimming with excitement. There are scouts from NFL teams here with their laptops and cellphone cameras on tripods. They’re all set up and ready to go.
I’m up at the top of the bleachers as usual. That way, he always knew where I was. And furthermore, I never had to worry about somebody standing up and obstructing my view at the wrong time.
I watch him and the others warm up and I have butterflies in my stomach. I’m so nervous for him. Jake could barely sleep last night. This means the world to him. It means the world to me too. I think.
I mean, as well as things are going, and as much of a surprise as this workout invitation is, we’ve never really talked about what it means for us. Or if there really is an us.
I check my watch. It’s almost time. Things are getting serious down on the field, so I pull out my sunglasses and settle in.
The whistle blows and I see Jake shake his arms to loosen up. Then he glances up at the bleachers, finds me, and gives a smile and a wave. It’s adorable. I wave back.
And then it begins. I can see the concentration take over as his body flows naturally into the workout. He’s been doing this for years. And he wants to keep playing.
Granted, I’m not a pro scout or anything, but from where I’m sitting this workout is going even better than the other one that got the ball rolling.
Jake’s running faster and getting into his routes even cleaner. He’s catching every ball effortlessly. His blocking is crisp and effective.
Before Jake I never knew a thing about football. But after watching him play all through high school, I developed an appreciation for the game.
A part of me wonders what will happen if he does make a team, though. Will he walk away again? Will this force a conversation about us that he’s not ready for?
As much as I hate the idea of him walking away, I also hate the idea of him having to make an important decision because of an artificial timeline.
Maybe I should trust that he’s not the old Jake. A whistle blows and I realize that I fell down that rabbit hole of worry longer than I thought.
I shake it off just in time to join the smattering of golf claps that signal the end of the practice.
I get up and stretch and then make my way down the bleachers, where I run into a guy in a suit. Or rather, he runs into me. I don’t think he’s a scout. No laptop, and his cell isn’t out, and he’s clean shaven and kind of slick.
“You’re the girl from the billboard, right?”
I have to think about it for a minute. Oh yeah, the billboard. With Jake. He must know Jake. “Yes,” I smile, “that’s me. Angie Houtz.”
“I’m Chad Lowe, Jake’s agent.”
“Oh,” I say, relaxing my guard, “nice to meet you, Chad. Jake has nothing but good things to say about you.”
“Sure he does” he says sarcastically and then smartly lets it go.
I lean in. “How do you think it went today?”
He smiles and then frowns. “It’s funny, he looked great today. Like the old Jake. Anyway, I love your billboard.” He reaches out to shake my hand and then he melts back into the crowd making their way to the center of the field to talk to Jake.
Chapter 36
Angie
“So, how did you feel about the workout?” I ask Jake, leaning forward.
I’m in my yellow dress, the one I save for special occasions. And tonight, we’re celebrating the scout workout.
With all of the interviews and meetings afterward, I barely got to talk to him all day. He looks dashing in a charcoal gray suit that he looks poured into.
Plus, I had to get back to my office. Poor Gwen had her hands full doing all of the work herself at my clinic while I was out cheering for Jake with my pom poms and cheerleader outfit. At least that’s how Gwen told it.
He gives me that cocky smile, the one that tells me he’s definitely getting some tonight. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.
“The workout went great. The interviews went even better,” he says as he waves a forkful of filet mignon at me. “I feel like I have a real chance this time, Angie. And I owe you.”
“You owe me?” I ask. “I’m pretty sure you were the one out there catching the passes.” It’s my turn to smirk at him.
“Smart ass,” he says, “you always were a smart ass. It’s one of the things I love the most about you.”
“You don’t say. What other things do you love about me then?”
“What?” he asks with a smirk, “you want a list or something?”
“Yes,” I blurt out as I take a bite of my veggie souffle, “yes I absolutely want a list.”
This banter. That smile. It’s what I missed most about him. For years he wasn’t just my crush, he was my best friend and happy place.
The guy I felt comfortable with. I think that’s why I was so angry when he came back and reminded me that he was also the one who took it all away.
He stops to chew his steak while he thinks. He bites down on his tongue slightly as he thinks, an action that now has the ability to turn me on.
His face lights up and he turns back to me. “Okay, I love that you’re super sexy.”
“What? You didn’t think so in high school.” I give him a chiding look.
“Who says?”
“You. Well, not in so many words. But it wasn’t me you took to the prom, was it? It was Suzy and her stupid floofy hair.”
Jake bursts out laughing. “You’re right, her hair was really floofy. And who says I didn’t think you were sexy?”
“You never told me.” Not even after we had sex. It left me with a crazy complex, having a guy I’ve had a crush on my entire
life run out on me after my first time. If he wasn’t so damn sexy and I didn’t miss my best friend so bad, I might have never given him a second chance.
He leans forward with a twinkle in his eye and whispers. “Well, let me tell you something right now. You sneaking into the shower the other day was literally the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“No way.” I answer. That was pretty fucking sexy if I do say so myself. “I think you’re thinking about someone else. We’re talking about Jake Mann here. He’s a celebrity pro football player, a very tight end,” I give him a wink, “and dater of underwear models.”
He holds a hand over his heart. “It’s true. I swear.”
I concede. “Alright, I’m sexy. Point taken. What’s next on the list?”
“You’re smart.”
“Yeah, we’ve already covered that one,” I move my fork in a circle motion, “moving on.”
He takes a sip of wine and grins at me. “What do you mean we covered it? I just now said it.”
“Historically. We’ve talked about it before.”
“Okay. Well, one of my favorite nights ever was the time we both got drunk on blueberry wine the night after you took your third and last SAT test, remember? Despite already being a National Merit Finalist, you insisted on taking it again and raised your score another fifty points?”
I nod. I remember. I know exactly where he’s going with this, and I can’t help but smile.
“That’s the night you took a gas powered weed whacker to Gavin McCloud’s prized landscaped garden.”
“We,” I correct, giving him a severe look, “we were both there that night. We both had gas powered weed whackers. I was the only one who got caught. You know Gavin still hates me?”
He bursts out laughing and I join him.
“Yeah, I was there, but I was too drunk to get mine to turn on. You turned yours on and it was so fucking loud. I heard the door slam when he came out, tripped, and fell behind his fake waterfall into his Koi pond. So he never even knew I was there. Didn’t he chase you off with a broom? And you never gave me up. Not even under what was described to me as very intense police questioning.”