by Dee Lagasse
Everything was about to change again.
I’d spent the majority of the last couple of days obsessing over the fact that six years had passed between us. But maybe Jake and I just weren’t ready for something like this at eighteen. Whatever this was.
All I knew was I wouldn’t run from it this time. Jake Pierce was my first love. I don’t think I ever stopped loving him. Not really, anyway. There were some things—some people—that never left you all the way.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” My voice and legs both shook as I tried to ignore the hordes of photographers calling out to us from behind the media line.
His shoulder slumped as he sighed. “I know. It’s just—”
Cutting him off, I grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt in my hand and pulled him closer to me. His dark brown eyes bore into mine and I could have sworn, right then, he saw right down to my soul.
“We have so much to figure out.” I swallowed when he nodded. My voice was barely above a whisper. “But I’m not running from you—from this—anymore.”
“Good.”
His one hand gripped my waist while the other cupped my face, his fingertips pushing into the back of my neck while the pad of his thumb caressed my cheek. Every move was deliberate, calculated. And, this time, I soaked it all in.
I was hyper-aware of everything around us. The reporters were calling Jake’s name, desperate to pull his attention and get the scoop.
Our mothers squealed behind us as I pressed up on my toes and closed the space between us. As soon as our lips touched again, I allowed my body to mold against his. Suddenly it didn’t matter about the time that had passed. It didn’t matter who was watching or what else anyone else thought. All that mattered was me and Jake.
I’d always heard about kisses that felt like fireworks. Until now, I thought it was romanticized bullshit. But every passing moment felt more than the last. More intense. More real. Just, more.
Within seconds, I was addicted to the taste of him. Greedily, I gripped harder. I kissed faster. And when I felt his cock harden against me, a whimpered moan escaped my lips.
Okay. We needed to stop before I followed him into the locker room.
Deep, masculine cheering next to us helped bring us back down to reality.
“Yeahhh, Pierce!”
“Get it, Isa!”
Fox and Lynx walked past us, and Jake and I both burst out laughing.
“I really gotta go, Bug.” He grinned, sneaking in one last kiss before pulling away. “I’ll see you out there.”
Jake
Once word got around the locker room about Isa and our parking lot kiss, the guys were all over me. Half of them wanted to know who she was. The other half just wanted to give me a hard time.
Any other given day, being razzed by the team would have fired me up. I would have shot back some dickish remark, but not today. They could say whatever they wanted—as long as it wasn’t disrespectful to Isa.
And they weren’t. Not after they found out she was Roger Coleman’s daughter.
Coach Coleman was idolized in this locker room. To me, he was just “Coach”—Isa and Javi’s dad. The reality, however, was that he was one of the greatest quarterbacks to ever play football, and he was also a class act. Everyone who was part of the Bluecoats organization respected him not only as a player—and now a coach—but as a man.
Especially because he did things he didn’t have to, like spending a week in Montana with the new generation of players, or taking Fox out to dinner to celebrate the records he broke that Coach himself had made when he was a player. The fact that he retired from playing just to coach the football players of the future was admirable from a player standpoint as well.
“You’re brave, man.” Ty Ashland laughed as he grabbed his helmet from the locker next to mine. “I don’t know if I would have the balls to go after Roger Coleman’s daughter.”
No one in this room knew Coach the way I did.
It was never about “having the balls” as Ty so eloquently put it. It was about having respect for a man who took me into his home, treated me like his own son, and taught me everything he knew about the game. He trusted me. I never wanted to betray that.
We never talked about Isa or what happened between me and her.
“You know, you can ask about her.” Coach had laughed as we sipped on bourbon on the front porch steps. “Isa. We can talk about her.”
“I’ve wanted to,” I admitted. “But I knew, given what happened between us, I was just lucky you and Mama A still wanted me to be part of your lives. I wasn’t about to jinx that.”
“You know, for a long time, Alma and I were pretty convinced you two would end up together.” He chuckled. “And…I’m honestly not sure what happened between you two. Isa never talked about it either. All I know is that I haven’t heard that laugh—the one only you seem to be able to pull from her—since you left for Alabama.”
So, I told him. Everything. At least, my side of things. I even confessed that part of the reason I didn’t make a move on her in high school was because I didn’t want to disrespect him.
He didn’t say much. He had sat there quietly, listening as I rambled on about how I fell in love with his only daughter.
Before we called it a night, he shook my hand.
“For the record, son, I would’ve been okay with it. And, if the day ever comes again, I still would be.”
His words played back in my head now as I pulled my practice jersey on over my head. That conversation had taken place just a few months ago. I hoped he meant what he’d said.
“All right, Casanova,” Fox’s voice behind me grabbed my attention, “you ready to make the rest of New England fall in love with you too?”
For the first time in my life, I was—ready. For football…and maybe love, too.
“Let’s do this.”
Isa
A small wave of relief washed over me when Jake led me out to the backyard.
A person could change a lot in six years.
I wasn’t saying that a secret sex room would be a deal-breaker, but it would have been a bit more to take in than the picnic currently set out on the lawn.
After training camp, Jake and I had gone our separate ways for the remainder of the afternoon. He had lunch with his mom—who was staying in my parents’ guest room—and I worked on editing the photos from last night’s practice.
Or…I tried to edit.
To say I was distracted would be an understatement. While I should have been working on contrast and focus, all I could think about was getting to Jake’s.
And kissing him again.
The amount of restraint it took not to pounce on him the second he opened the door was actually quite embarrassing.
“Jacob Pierce!” I squealed now, clutching his arm. “You have a telescope?!”
His laughter as I practically skipped over to the tripod set up next to the blanket made my heart swell.
“So, I know it’s too early still,” he started when he joined me, “but the Isa I remember used to get so excited over the moon. And I’m sure you already know this, but there’s a full moon tonight. I guess I thought the chance to check it out might keep you here longer.”
When I was a little girl, I wanted to be an astronaut. There was nowhere I wanted to go more than the moon. I was obsessed. As I grew, my career goals changed, but never my love for the lunar object that orbited our earth.
Most people spent time chasing sunrises or basking in sunsets. My favorite part of the day had always been when I realized the moon was hanging in the sky. I looked for it each night.
And, Jake remembered.
“You know,” I began, sighing dreamily as I looked up to the sky, “legend has it that the sun and moon were lovers forced to chase each other back and forth across the sky.”
“Sounds like a couple of kids I once knew.” Kicking his slide-on sandals off onto the lawn next to the red plaid blanket laid out on the grass, he sat down.
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I pulled my Chucks off and then cursed under my breath as I attempted to push my socks off with my heels like I’d done with my shoes.
My plan backfired when I lost my balance. I tried to steady myself as I stumbled back, but before I knew it, I fell flat on my ass.
“And suddenly, it makes sense why your dad would randomly call you ‘Grace.’” Jake chuckled as he connected a small Bluetooth speaker to his phone. “How ‘bout some music?”
“Yeah, Jake. I’m fine, thanks.” I rolled my eyes and then glared in his direction.
“I’ve seen you fall enough times in our lives to know when you’re okay and when you’re not,” he mused, laughing and extending his hand as he leaned over to me.
“But I’m oooold now,” I whined. I waved him off as I stood up from the grass. “I could break a hip or something.”
“You’re twenty-four, Isa.” He reached over the cooler placed on the edge of the blanket and popped the cover off. “I figured we’d kick it old school. I made peanut butter and strawberry preserve sandwiches. There are purple grapes and carrot chips and roasted red pepper hummus too. Oh! And, blueberry iced tea from Sunnycrest.”
“Okay, how’d you pull this off?” I questioned, noting he’d collectively made a meal of my favorite snacks. Some of the things are the same—like my love for purple grapes specifically—but carrot chips and hummus and Sunnycrest Farm’s blueberry iced tea were new favorites of mine.
“I may have had some help.” At the sight of my wide eyes, he let out a small laugh. “I asked your mom.”
“You asked my mom?!” I groaned. “Jacob Pierce, you know better than that! She’s going to want to know e-v-e-r-y-thing that happens tonight.”
Mom, Abuela, and Ruth Pierce spent the majority of training camp talking about how excited they were that Jake and I were finally “an item.” Despite me telling them— repeatedly—that I wasn’t sure where Jake and I stood, none of them seemed to hear it.
“Yeah.” He grinned. “If it makes you feel any better, I got to spend the entire lunch answering my mom’s questions. I swear that woman worked for the FBI in a past life.”
“Can we please talk about the music?” I asked, changing the subject. Deflecting in uncomfortable situations was my specialty. “Did you find some magical playlist that happens to have all my favorite songs? I’m going to need that link.”
“Or…I made one?” He shrugged, handing me his phone.
I swallowed when I saw “Isa’s Mix” at the top of the playlist. My fingers swept through a list of over thirty songs from blink-182, Simple Plan, Sum 41, Good Charlotte, Fall Out Boy, and every other pop-punk band that had stolen my heart as a teenager.
“I can send it to you, though,” he offered.
“That’s adorable.” The sarcasm laced in my voice was a little heavier than intended. “How many other girls have you done this for, Romeo?”
“Try zero,” he shot back defensively. “Gym, training, home, sleep—that’s my life. Oh, and on Sundays during the off-season, I golf.”
I chuckled. “And with my dad of all people. You know, when he said he was golfing with some ‘buddies,’ I was picturing old dudes—well, around my dad’s age—not you and the Mendez brothers.”
Lynx’s comment about having the utmost respect for my father when we first met suddenly made a lot more sense. I assumed it was just because he knew my dad as Roger Coleman: Hall of Fame quarterback. Not because he knew the ugly sweater vests and khaki shorts version of my dad.
“You know, it’s kind of cute you’ve been stalking me on Instagram,” he said, taking a sip of his iced tea before he continued. “Fox and Lynx only came the one time, and I’m the only one that posted about it.”
“It’s kind of cute you think I was stalking you, and not Fox or Lynx. I’m sure you tagged them. It probably just showed up in their tagged photos.” My response was bullshit, and Jake’s narrowed eyes and smirk told me he knew it, too. Of course it was Jake I’d been creeping on.
“And to think I was going to ask you to be my date to the ring ceremony with me on Sunday,” he hinted, shaking his head. “I can see if Fox and Lynx are available, though. If ya want.”
Holy shit.
The ring he was talking about was a Super Bowl ring.
You know, because he played and won the Super Bowl last February.
Just the biggest sporting event in the entire world. No big deal.
“Do you think the music will be as good there as it is here at Château de Pierce?” I asked, pretending like I wasn’t internally freaking the fuck out.
He chuckled at my response. “Nah, but I heard Snoop Dogg might be there. Diddy was at the last ring ceremony.”
“All right, I’m in,” I agreed, as nonchalantly as possible. I tried to keep that same level of cool as I said, “So, if people ask who I am to you, what do you want me to say?”
“It would probably be easier to just say you’re my girlfriend,” he suggested.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? The media is already having a field day with our kiss,” I noted. “I don’t know if I’m fake-girlfriend material.” I’d seen the Hallmark movies. I knew how that always panned out.
“No one ever said anything about you being my fake girlfriend, Bug.”
The emphasis he put on the word “fake” made me pause for a moment.
“Before you shut it down, hear me out,” he started. “As much as it hurt, I never stopped loving you. If you tell me you don’t want this too, I’ll never push again. But, I know what I want. It’s the same thing I’ve always wanted. The question is, do you want it too?”
Jake
I didn’t know who I thought I was pretending to be, walking into Retro thinking I could just pretend that my life had been fine without Isa. That man didn’t exist. He never existed. If he did, I would be able to stop my emotions from spilling out of my mouth every time she was around.
I wished I could make sense of it all. Everything between us was moving at lightning speed—mostly because of my own doing. But, as I just told her, I knew what I wanted.
I wanted her—every part of her. I wanted her heart, her soul. I wanted to be her favorite hello and her hardest goodbye.
There were new dips and curves of her body I was aching to discover.
Mostly, I just wanted to be able to kiss her whenever I felt like it.
If I’d learned anything about my feelings for Isa over the last forty-eight hours, it was that nothing was partial.
It was emotional. It was physical. It was everything, all at once.
And, it always had been.
When things weren’t okay, it went beyond sadness. It was all-consuming. The idea of living a life without her had made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t eat. I was skipping gym sessions. If I hadn’t gotten away from Fox Hollow, who knew how long I would have lived like that.
This time, I knew the risk.
I also knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t take another chance.
Despite my effort to seem neutral when I asked her what she wanted, I knew I wasn’t subtle in my approach. And even though I took a bite of watermelon a few moments before dropping the “girlfriend” bomb on her, I was parched. There was no way she couldn’t see how off-balance I was.
I’ve had three-hundred-pound men run straight at me to pull me down, and that sounded like a fucking walk in the park right now compared to the anxiety brewing inside my chest.
The pressure I put on her was a lot; I knew that. But her silence was killing me slowly.
“Isa, please,” I begged. “Say something. Anything.”
The juice from the watermelon slice I was holding dripped down my hand. It didn’t matter, though. I simply watched her lips as I waited for her answer. There was a primal instinct kicking in I had never felt before. Like a lion waiting to pounce at the perfect moment.
Looking me in the eyes, she finally said, “You. Us. I want all of it.”
Isa
The sun was nowhere to be found. Off to chase the moon, I supposed.
All the background noise disappeared when Jake pushed everything between us forward in one swooping motion. In just as much time, he pulled me onto his lap. A mousey squeak left my lips as I found myself straddled over him.
Instinctively, I pressed my hands to his chest to steady myself. His own hands had made their way under my rising tank top and onto my lower back.
“Hi.”
“Hi, boyfriend.”
“So, it’s official?” he asked as he pulled me closer to him.
By the time I nodded, there was no space between our bodies.
“Good.” He grinned and pressed his forehead to mine. “Because I swore I wouldn’t do this until you were mine.”
“Do what?” I asked coyly.
“Let me show you.” Jake’s hands trailed from my back to my sides, over my hips, the outline of my breasts, and up my neck, until they stopped at my face. As he brought my face to his, I closed my eyes.
I expected eager, hungry kisses like the ones we shared in the parking lot earlier. Instead, I got the slow, deep, deliberate kind.
It didn’t matter that the clouds above us grew darker with every passing moment. We were still lost in each other when the rain began. Within minutes, the precipitation began to settle in the fabric of my top, my hair hanging heavier as it soaked up the rain. I pulled back, reaching for the food scattered along the blanket.
“Jake!” I giggled when he took the container of the grapes from my hand and placed them back down on the blanket.
“Leave it,” he murmured, before pulling my bottom lip into his. “I’ll order you a pizza.”
“Stop it!” I laughed, pushing my body back until I was off his lap. “Help me bring this stuff inside.”
As we quickly threw everything in the cooler, the rolling thunder shook the earth around us.