Keeping Score: A Sports Romance

by Dee Lagasse

  Leaving the drink on the counter, I left the store. As soon as I was in the safety of my truck, I cursed.

  “Fucuuuuuuuuuk.”

  My stomach tightened, anger filling me. The horn blasted as my fist made impact with my steering wheel. Before anyone caught on that it was me and managed to secure another bullshit story of tabloid fodder, I started my truck and made my way back to the highway.

  About halfway back to Fox Hollow, the music cut out and my Bluetooth speaker alerted me that I had an incoming phone call from Isa.

  Answering it, I sighed. “I need to call you back.”

  “Jake, we need to talk,” she said.

  “I need to call you back,” I repeated.

  Isa and I may have had our own things to work through, but I needed to clear my head first.

  “Why are you being like this?” she asked. Her voice changed with her question. It was accusatory. Angry. “All over me because I said I wouldn’t move in? You cannot be serious.”

  “Fine,” I conceded. “You wanna talk? I’ll be home in twenty minutes. Let’s fucking talk.”

  Jake

  “Hey,” Isa said, offering me a small smile as she raised the aluminum pan in her hands. “Mom sent over your favorite: enchiladas and rice.”

  My silence greeted her as she placed the pan on the counter. Instead of acknowledging her, I downed the glass of bourbon I poured when I heard her open the door. She had been at her parents’ house. I knew, because her car was parked in their driveway when I drove by.

  She was still wearing my T-shirt from this morning. Her hair was pulled up in a loose, messy bun and she was wearing big, black glasses. I’d never, in the entire duration of our friendship, seen her wear glasses. If this was yesterday, I would have commented on how cute she looked in them, but all I could picture when I looked at her now was her sitting at the kitchen table with her mom and abuela—laughing at me.

  “Jake? What’s going on?” She tried to close the space between us, but I stepped back. “Is it the glasses?” she joked. “I know. I’m getting used to them, too. I got the call they were ready when you were bringing your mom to the—”

  I knew if I didn’t do this, I’d change my mind. I wouldn’t say what I needed to say. “Isa, stop.”

  “I know we got in a fight but, come on.” She swallowed. “We just have to talk about it.”

  “I don’t think so. I think we need to take a step back.” I exhaled, looking away from her. “I think we need to take a break.”

  “People don’t take breaks, Jake.” My heart raced as her voice began to shake. “People break up. Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”

  Each word she said felt like another slash to my heart.

  I loved her. With every fiber of my being. Which was why I couldn’t—I wouldn’t allow myself to go down the road to the inevitable. I was ready to start my life with her. I had been waiting years for this.

  She didn’t want the same thing I did.

  She laughed when I asked her to move in with me. A sound that usually brought me incredible joy had suddenly felt like a slap in the face.

  Now, when I didn’t say anything back, Isa’s body shifted. A thin line spread across her lips as she crossed her arms. In a split second, the worry in her face disappeared.

  In classic Isa style, she was going to deflect her pain. Act like she was fine. And then, as soon as she was by herself, she would allow herself to feel.

  I knew this because more often than not, as teenagers, I would watch her build the safety wall around her heart when she thought people were going to hurt her.

  I’d never been the one to cause it, though.

  “So, is that it?” she asked, as if being in this kitchen with me was the last thing she wanted to do in that moment. “Is that all you wanted me to come over for? To break up? Because if we’re done, I’d like to go.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Those two little words were all I could think to say.

  And, I was.

  I was sorry for pulling her into this. I was sorry for letting my heart get the best of me. I wished we could just go back to last night—to slow dancing with her in my arms. Selfishly, I wanted to pull her into my arms again.

  If I had known the kiss I placed on her lips this morning would be the last, I would have savored it. I would have taken my time. Memorized the shape of her curves, the feel of her skin against mine.

  Shaking her head profusely, she raised her hand to stop me from saying anything more. “No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to feel sorry. If this is what you want, you’re going to own it.”

  I opened my mouth to tell her that I truly was sorry, closing it when I realized it wouldn’t make a damn difference.

  “Isa…”

  Before I could say another word, she turned on her heels. I winced as she slammed the front door shut. The sound of her tires spinning out of the driveway made me want to chase after her.

  Instead, I shot back the bourbon and poured another…and another…

  Isa

  It had been three days since Jake ended things between us in his kitchen.

  Not wanting to deal with the interrogation from my family, I checked into a hotel Monday night. I cried until there were no more tears to cry, passing out from exhaustion sometime around three in the morning.

  When check-out time came, as much as I wanted to stay another night, I knew if I did my family would start to worry. All it would take would be one of them driving by Jake’s house and only seeing his truck in the driveway and a conversation with my brother for my mother to start a search party.

  For the first time in my career, I rescheduled a private photo session.

  Not just one, but two. I had two families booked for photographs yesterday…and I sent them emails saying I was sick. Broken hearts counted, right?

  And then, I lied to my brother.

  When he realized I was still home this morning—and not off surprising Jake in Green Bay like I planned—he flew into my room.

  “You’re going to miss your flight!”

  Tonight was just a pre-season game, but it would have been Jake’s first game I’d gone to since high school. As soon as Jake and I were “official,” I bought tickets to the game and booked a flight to Wisconsin. Much like having his mom show up to training camp, I wanted to surprise him. Javier and Adam were the only two people who even knew I was planning on going.

  Instead, I was still in Fox Hollow, hiding in my gallery space.

  The permits I had pulled for renovations were approved on Monday—the day after Jake broke my fucking heart—and by Tuesday morning, the contractors were in here tearing shit down. Luckily for me, the game didn’t start until six o’clock. So, by the time I got here, all of the workers had already cleared out for the day.

  I tried to keep myself busy. Sitting in the lone office chair left by the previous owners, I opened my laptop with the intent of getting some work done, but ended up ordering birthday presents for Finn instead. I called in sushi, and once my volcano rolls were gone, I decided that the newly opened space would be the perfect place to skate.

  Afterward, when I reached down into my bag for my car keys, I saw that my phone was lit up. I pulled it out to find the news alert from the Bluecoats app that they had won the game. Before I could stop myself, I was opening the app, looking at the stats of the game. When I saw Jake made the first and last touchdowns of the game, my eyes filled with tears.

  Opening Instagram next was my first mistake. My second mistake was going straight to Jake’s profile. There wasn’t anything new posted, so I tapped on the tagged photos. But what I wasn’t expecting to find was my name being tagged in a photograph of Jake, Fox, and Lynx surrounded by half-naked models. Glasses full of champagne filled their hands. A rush of déjà-vu washed over me. This felt like college all over again. Only this time, there were comments like: “Where’s Isa?” and “That doesn’t look like Isa!”

  Neither of us had publicl
y commented on our breakup.

  Until now, I had been secretly holding on to the hope that it wasn’t real.

  And, if it was, that it was temporary.

  Any moment now, Jake would realize he made a huge mistake and we’d be back together again.

  I decided I was done crying for the night. I had every intention of going home, but as soon as I saw the wooden sign for “Spirits & Ales” in worn gold lettering, I turned into the almost full parking lot.

  The Claddagh Lounge was the local watering hole. Black-and-white checkered tiling, old wood paneling on the wall, bright-red cushioned barstools and the almost too-loud rock music that blasted from the three PA-style speakers scattered throughout the pub was exactly what I need tonight.

  None of my family members would ever step foot in here—and that’s why I loved it so much. Salem and I had spent many Thursday nights here after we turned twenty-one. I was always her designated driver. Which meant I always got to pick the karaoke songs we did.

  It didn’t matter that I didn’t have a drop of makeup on or that my hair was thrown up in a messy bun. My ripped jeans and Camp Crystal Lake Counselor graphic tee didn’t so much as earn me a second glance as I walked through the door and straight to the bar. Before my ass even hit the cushioned seat, I was greeted by Erin—the curvy redhead that owned the pub.

  “I’ll be right over, Isa!” she called from the beer draft.

  “I don’t like that color on you.”

  After taking a seat on the empty stool on the other corner end of the bar, Devon McDaniels placed his half-empty beer on the scratched mahogany bar top.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  I was not in the mood for Devon fucking McDaniels and his bullshit games tonight.

  “Blue,” he answered, not skipping a beat as a tall pint glass full of ginger ale was placed in front of me.

  I was glad that Erin remembered I didn’t drink.

  For a split second, I had thought about asking for vodka.

  Devon picked up his beer like he was going to take a sip. He held it in front of his mouth, but the glass never made it to his lips.

  “Devon, I’m not in the mood,” I warned. What little patience I had for him and this conversation was fading. Fast. “Either tell me what you’re talking about or, please, just leave me alone.”

  “You’re more of a yellow. Blue doesn’t suit you.”

  I was done, then. Both with Devon and this conversation.

  As I stood and reached into my pocket for the cash I had shoved in there before coming in, Devon also stood. “Isa, wait.”

  “Blue,” he began, placing his beer on the cardboard bar coaster. “Sad, upset, down in the dumps. You are normally like sunshine. Happy. Glowing. Yellow.”

  Before I realized what I was saying, I blurted out, “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but Jake and I broke up.”

  It was the first time I had said those words aloud. I hadn’t even told my family or Salem yet. When Javier asked why I wasn’t in Green Bay with Jake, I lied. I told him I woke up with the worst cramps and didn’t think “Aunt Flow” would have fun in Green Bay. I didn’t even have my period night now. It was the same excuse I gave my dad when he called to see if I was going over to his house to watch the game.

  They were my family, but they were also guys—who would not only not question it, but were more than happy to be done with the conversation if It meant they didn’t have to talk about “feminine problems” as my dad so delicately put it before hanging up the phone.

  Saying it was over made it seem final. Saying it made it feel real. I had been living in a state of denial. I didn’t want to accept that it was over. We had just found each other again. I wasn’t ready to let go.

  But what other choice did I have? Relationships took two people, and Jake didn’t want this. Jake didn’t want me.

  Devon’s eyes widened in surprise at my admission. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

  “Are you, though?” I laughed, calling bullshit on his apology. “Are you really sorry?”

  “Absolutely.” He nodded. “I don’t like seeing you sad. Do you want to talk about it?”

  I did, but not with Devon. It was just past nine. There was a good chance Salem was still awake. Once I was in my car, I would text her. If she didn’t answer by the time I left Fox Hollow, I would go home, take a hot bath, eat an entire pint of ice cream, and watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

  “Not really.” I shrugged and pointed to the door. “I’m gonna go.”

  In the short time I’d been there, the rock music had transitioned to karaoke night. A group of newly turned twenty-one-year-olds took over the small dance floor. While weaving my way in and out of them toward the exit, I was halted to a stop when someone tugged on my arm.

  I turned around with the intention of telling whomever it was that I was leaving, I rolled my eyes when I saw Devon. Before I got a chance to say anything, he gripped my waist and pulled me to him. His lips crashed down on mine. Without even thinking, I sent my fist right into his stomach.

  I needed to get the fuck out of there. But a tight grip on my arm stopped me from moving. While still keeping a tight hold on my arm, Devon stood in front of me.

  “Devon.” I gulped. “Let me go.”

  “Admit it,” he whispered. His gray eyes had gone dark. The words sounded like a threat as he continued, “You wanted it. That’s why you told me about the breakup. You wanted—”

  Cutting him off, I shook my head. “No. That is not—”

  “You and I have been dancing around this for years, Isa.” He leaned in closer. The smell of the beer on his breath made my stomach turn. His grip tightened as he continued. “I’m tired of waiting.”

  Panic filled me. I knew I should kick, scream…anything to cause a scene. Yet, I stood there, frozen in place.

  “Devon, please,” I begged. “You’re hurting me.”

  Relief flooded through me when I heard Erin’s voice behind us. “Let her go, Devon.”

  As soon as his arm fell, I muttered a thank you and ran out of the pub as fast as my legs would carry me. Once I was safely in the comfort of my locked car, the tears I didn’t realize I had been holding back began to fall. Warm, salty puddles of anger rushed down my cheeks as the steering wheel took a small beating from my fists.

  Without even thinking, I called the first person who came to mind.

  The only person I knew could make me feel safe.

  It wasn’t until the second ring on the other end of the line, that I remembered calling Jake wasn’t an option anymore. I was just about to pull the phone away from the side of my face and hang up when I heard his voice come through the speaker.

  “Hey, Bug.”

  That was all it took.

  A sob escaped my lips as I tried to find the words. Any words.

  “Oh, baby.” He sighed. “Please don’t cry. I fucked up. I was going to wait till I got back. I wanted to say this to your face. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  He was saying everything I wanted to hear. Everything I needed to hear. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. I stifled another sob long enough to tell him what happened in the pub.

  “I felt like I was paralyzed, Jake. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. What if Erin hadn’t stepped in?” I shuddered.

  Until tonight, I thought Devon was an asshole, but I didn’t know he was capable of doing what he had done. God only knew what else could have happened.

  There was a pause. “I’ll be home—”

  Cutting him off, I sighed. “I know. I shouldn’t have even called you. I just…I just needed to hear you tell me that I’d be okay. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to drive home right now.”

  “First of all,” he started, “you can always call me. Always. No matter what’s going on with us. Are you still in Fox Hollow?”

  When I said that I was, he asked if I thought I could drive the five miles to his house.

  “I just booked a flight back home on th
e red-eye,” he said. “I’ll be there in four hours.”

  “You’re coming home tonight?”

  “My girl needs me.” He said it as if it was the most simple answer in the world. “I gotta pack up my clothes and head to the airport, but I’ll see you in a bit, okay? And, Isa?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  Jake

  If I didn’t know that it would come back to bite me in the ass, my fist would have already been in the hotel wall.

  I threw my clothes in the suitcase, not giving a single shit about the condition they went in.

  That bastard. That lucky bastard. He should be thanking his guardian angel that I am hundreds of miles away right now.

  The thought of him kissing Isa made me angry, but I could have let that shit go. I couldn’t blame the guy for having for having feelings for her. I knew better than anyone how it felt to love Isabel Coleman. However, the second she pushed him away, that should have been the end of it.

  He sure as fuck shouldn’t have laid a hand on her. The thought of her standing there frozen in fear as he held her in place had me seeing red. I had four hours to get this anger in check. If I didn’t, I was not going home to Isa. I’d be on the hunt for Devon McDaniels. I also had four hours to figure out how the hell I was going to make the last few days up to Isa.

  After I ended things with Isa, the only time my heart had any reprieve was when I was suited up, on my turf. Running plays allowed me to forget about my broken heart for just a few hours. I channeled every ounce of desperation I felt into the game earlier today.

  Fox and Lynx were the only ones that knew what happened. They tried to cheer me up last night when we got to Green Bay, but it didn’t take either of them long to realize champagne and the company of a few of their model friends was not what I needed. We stayed just long enough to take some pictures.

  We ended up buying a foam football at the Target down the street from the hotel and spent the rest of the night tossing it back and forth in the almost-empty parking lot. Once again, the two of them helped me come up with a plan to fix things with Isa. A plan that would have taken place when I got home. Tomorrow.