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Under the Bleachers: A Novel

Page 25

by K. K. Allen


  “When I was your age, it was a privilege to play ball. To step into a team and prove myself every single day. But who was I proving myself to? Tell me: who are you here for? Are you here for yourselves?”

  There’s a hesitant cheer. I laugh. “It’s okay to admit it. That’s what this week is about. Are you here for your team?”

  This cheer is louder, and I smile. “That was the correct answer.” I wink at a boy who had gotten it wrong, and he chuckles. “This week isn’t just about you and all the things you’ll learn to improve your game—and trust me, you will improve. It’s about improving so that we can be better for each other. For our team.” I point to the guys behind me. “For our brothers.” There’s a deep cheer from behind me. “For our family.”

  I reach for Balko and pull him forward, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pointing at him. “This guy wouldn’t be half as successful on the field if it weren’t for me.”

  Everyone laughs except Balko, who shakes his head dramatically.

  “But I wouldn’t be half of anything without him either.” I push Balko back in line, making everyone laugh again.

  “We lift each other up. We’re honest with each other. And we encourage one another. That’s what leaders do. And football will give you an opportunity to be a great leader if you let it.”

  I jump down from the stage and walk down an aisle. “Raise your hand if you know someone who can’t play ball even though they want to.”

  Half the hands go up immediately, and then more slowly join them. I stop for a second and look around. Heat rises in my chest, and I shake my head. “That’s no good. We need to change that. Will you guys help me change that?”

  Everyone cheers.

  I grin before locking eyes with Monica, who’s clutching her clipboard to her chest. “Good,” I say without releasing her from my stare. “Because everyone deserves to live out their dreams. Fear simply isn’t an option.”

  It’s movie night on the field. The kids don’t mind a little drizzle as they sit on their blankets to watch Little Giants on the projection screen.

  At some point after dinner and before the movie, when the clouds started to roll in and the sky threatened to open, Monica sprang into action, instructing the crew and coaches to cover the bleachers with a giant tarp to protect the production equipment underneath.

  Once I know everyone is settled and focused on the movie, I search for Monica. She shouldn’t be hard to find. As one of the only girls here, she’s quite the hot topic among the boys. Well, now that Trinity, Grace, and Meredith are here, they might be topics too, but my ears only perk up when I hear Monica’s name mentioned.

  I spot her sitting with her crew on the sidelines, laughing at something onscreen. I move around the back of the bleachers, careful to avoid Meredith. She’s been trying to get my attention all day, and I’ve been making it a point to ignore her. Sandy doesn’t know my plan yet, but she’ll be fired after this event anyway, so I’m not worried about her little tantrums anymore.

  I sit beside Monica, nudge her with my shoulder, and shoot her a smile. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she whispers, a shy smile lighting up her face.

  It’s no secret at this point that I’m into this girl. My team knows, Richland knows, and I’m sure the rest of the crew does too. Based on the looks I’m getting from Meredith and the rest of the PR team, they seem to be catching on as well. I don’t care, but unfortunately, Monica does.

  I resist the urge to pull her away from the group to bury my face in her neck and tell her about my day. Instead, I’m a good boy. I wait until the movie is over, help the crew secure the equipment, and walk Monica back to the cabin she’s now sharing with my PR team.

  Once everyone has taken off in their own directions, I take her hand and hold it to my mouth, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. We’re nearing the front of the cabin when she pauses, holding me back from rounding the corner.

  Monica leans against the side of the cabin just as we hear the door close, shutting out high-pitched laughter. Finally, she takes a deep breath and looks up at me.

  “What are we hiding for, Cakes?”

  She sighs. “I’m here for work and there are more of us now. And let’s just put this out there: Meredith has the hots for you. I don’t think she would appreciate that I’ve stolen your attention.”

  I make a face. “I’m pretty sure she’s onto us. Everyone is. But you still want to keep this a secret?”

  “I don’t,” she says forcefully, clutching my shirt and pulling me toward her. “Don’t do that, okay? Don’t start looking for reasons to pull away. Not now. I promised you this week, and I’m going to give it to you.”

  After last night, I’d better get more than one week. I can’t even think about that right now or I’ll start a conversation I know she’s not ready for. She has no idea how impossible it would be to let her go, not when I feel like we’re already connected in the most important ways. All I can do is nod and swallow my true feelings. She’s not ready for them.

  “Thanks for walking me back.”

  Gripping her waist, I let my head fall. “I’m going crazy knowing I can’t stay with you tonight.”

  The twinkle in her eye tells me she already knows this. With a tug of my neck, she pulls me toward her so our lips are almost touching. “Show me what I’m missing, hot stuff.”

  A breathy chuckle slides past my lips as I accept the challenge. I kiss her softly at first, meaning to pull away and leave her with something, but she nibbles on my bottom lip and I forfeit. With a dip of my tongue, I slide between her lips and deepen the kiss.

  My hand slips easily between the back of her jeans and her skin. I groan at the silky softness of her ass. “Damn it. Why does it feel like I’m a horny teenager with a curfew?”

  “Because it’s only ten o’clock,” she laughs. “And you are horny.” She rubs against me teasingly. “But you have an early morning tomorrow.”

  I shake my head. “Not me. The coaches have an early morning. I start making my rounds at nine.”

  She pouts. “Well then, you’re spoiling yourself. I’ll be out there at six. Shouldn’t you be out there too if your team will be? Lead by example, right?”

  She has a good point. “But it’s so early!” I exaggerate my pout to make her smile, and I know it works because she reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss me.

  “I’m not ready to let you go,” I whisper against her lips.

  Monica sighs. “Me neither.”

  Well, that just makes me more determined.

  “Text me when the girls are asleep,” I say with a wicked smile. “I have an idea.” I swear her cheeks deepen in color, but it’s impossible to be sure in the darkness.

  “Okay.”

  It’s almost midnight when Monica finally messages me. We meet in front of her cabin and then run through the darkness to get to the football field. The security guard is making his rounds, so we wait for him to leave the area before sprinting for the bleachers.

  The truth is, I paid him off earlier to not harass me this week, but Monica doesn’t have to know that. The light in her eyes at our adventure sparks something in us both I can’t imagine losing.

  The bleachers are still covered in the enormous tarp, protection from the rain from earlier today. It’s basically one giant tent, closed on each end. I detach the Velcro so that we can slip inside, and then I seal it back up carefully so passersby won’t have a reason to check things out.

  Once we’re inside, I use the flashlight on my phone to find the setup I prepared for us. I lined the ground with a thick packing blanket, placed the couch cushions stolen from the interview setup on top, and then covered the cushions with my sleeping bag. I found some white holiday lights thanks to my new security guard friend and strung them across the light stands to give our bleacher fort a dim glow.

  Monica laughs softly when she sees what I’ve done. She lets me pull her down onto the makeshift bed so tha
t we’re lying together and she’s cradled in my arms. When we’re finally settled, I let out a heavy sigh. All this effort is totally worth it now that I have her in my arms.

  “Finally.”

  She makes a cute little noise and snuggles into me further. “You were amazing today with the kids. Your speech … you were born to do this, Zach.”

  “Thanks, Cakes.” I rub her back. “It feels good. It’s hard to know if I’m really making a difference, but at least we can all have fun in the process.”

  Her fingers run over my unshaven chin, which I’ve let grow out a little more than usual. The way she keeps playing with it, I think she likes it.

  “I imagine when you have someone to look up to, someone you respect, it’s hard not to be affected by that. The most beautiful part,” she says, “is that you’re changing these kids’ lives without forcing anything down their throats. Before my sister realized she wanted to act, modeling was her dream and I believed it was mine too, but that’s because it’s the only option I ever explored. And when it got taken away, I was lost.”

  I frown. “Don’t look at it like someone took your dreams from you. You’re the only one in charge of those. If you wanted to model, you could, but I know that’s not what you want. Cakes, I’m confident you’ve chosen the perfect path for you.”

  I must say the right thing because she slips her smooth fingers under my shirt and lifts the fabric over my head. Her sultry eyes zero in on my chest before her lips press against it. She’s kissing the skin directly above my heart, and I swear it starts to beat out of my chest.

  “Thank you.” Her voice is soft, making my throat constrict with emotion.

  I kiss her head. “When do classes start?”

  “June.”

  She tells me about the classes she’ll be taking, and I fall in love with her a little more every second she speaks excitedly about her future.

  Monica has been through a lot with her father, her mother, her sister. Hell, her entire family abandoned her—but she’s far from given up. She’s making her own life, and while there have been roadblocks along the way, she’s continued moving forward. That’s the most important part. I think she’s finally starting to put her dreams above her fears now that she understands what her dreams are.

  Every night, no matter how exhausted we are from the day’s events, we sneak off to the bleachers once the girls are asleep. We lie on our makeshift bed, me tucked snugly in Zach’s arms, and tonight is no different. It’s Thursday, giving us only two more nights together before the week I promised him is over. He hasn’t brought it up since the first night, but I know the conversation is coming. We’re both in too deep at this point to bury these moments in the past and call it quits.

  We talk about growing up, mostly. He tells me stories of his high school football days. The scouts that wanted to meet with him. The schools he debated between. In the end, he didn’t want to leave Texas since his brother and mom were still there, and the University of Texas gave him an opportunity he couldn’t turn down: a full ride, and with the current quarterback graduating the following year, chances were good that Zach would get a lot of time in the spotlight.

  “If it wasn’t for Coach Reynolds, none of this would have happened,” he says with pride.

  I can tell there’s a part of him that thinks about this often. That wonders what would have happened if this man hadn’t saved Zach and Desmond from destroying their futures with reckless behavior, if he hadn’t shown them how to work together instead of against each other.

  “He sounds like a very important part of your life,” I say softly.

  Zach nods and swallows, and I wonder if he’s getting choked up. “He gave me a chance I don’t think I deserved.”

  I reach for his arm and latch on, squeezing. “Of course you deserved it. I’ll bet he’s proud of giving you that chance too. Just like you gave Desmond a chance. You paid it forward. And look at what you’re doing for these kids.”

  He smiles. “It is cool how it all played out. See, Cakes,” he says as he tilts my chin so I’m staring into his eyes. “Not all of us football players are bad. Some of us learn early in life that there are certain things you don’t mess with: dreams, family, and love. I learned that when I was sixteen. I had a great mentor.”

  My heart sinks. “Not all of us are that lucky, Zach.”

  “Yeah, we’re not always lucky,” he admits, rubbing circles on my back with his palm. “But sometimes life offers you second chances in ways you don’t expect. What if I’m yours? I’m not your father. I know what he did to you broke your heart. If I could change that for you, I would. I’d carry your pain forever if it meant you’d open up to love again.” His hold tightens and my breath catches in my throat. “Let me love you, Cakes. Tell me you’re ready for this. For us.” He tightens his hold around my waist as if afraid I’ll vanish. “I can’t imagine all of this ending in two days.”

  His words cut deep, latching onto the innermost parts of me. Looking back into his eyes, I take a ragged breath. It feels like everything I’ve been through has led me to this moment. A moment where I have a chance to choose between the future and the past. That’s a choice I’d never given myself before Zach. How could I possibly look to the future when my past still haunts me?

  “You can’t love me, Zach.” Tears fill my eyes. He only clutches me harder.

  “Too late.”

  After I get my breathing under control, I roll onto my back and look up at the rows of bleachers beneath the tarp. Since the day I took Zach to my field, the memories have been freshly present at the forefront of my mind.

  “One of my favorite things to do on Saturdays was hang out with my dad at the high school football field near our house. He’d run the track and I’d play on the bleachers. It was raining one day. I was skiing across the top step, slipped and fell through the division in the stairs. I landed all wrong and the fall knocked me out.”

  “Jesus,” Zach mutters. “Your dad must have been scared shitless.”

  I laugh, because looking back on that day—the look on his face as he was running toward me like he knew something awful was going to happen…

  “He was terrified. He couldn’t get to me through the bleacher steps. The space was too narrow. So he grabbed a pair of shears from his truck and ran around to the back of the stands.” I feel Zach’s body go rigid, but I continue. “There was a fence, so he had to cut his way in.”

  I wait for it, because I know he’s making the connection. “Um, Cakes. What field did you say that was?”

  I bite my lip. “It was Brighton. The shared high school stadium in Dallas.”

  When he pulls away, his eyes are a bundle of confusion. My heart is going crazy in my chest.

  “I thought you were from Rockwall.”

  I nod. “We moved from Dallas after my parent’s divorce.”

  “That’s the same field I—” He pauses to assess my reaction and sees that I’ve already made the connection. “You knew?”

  I sigh. “When you told me your story that day on the field … I figured it out, yeah.”

  “And you never said anything to me?”

  My jaw opens but words don’t come out. He gives me a reprieve, rolling onto his back and moves his hands through his hair as he considers everything he knows. When he turns to face me again, his expression is full of emotion, and I’m not sure how to make sense of it.

  “I always wondered who made that entrance. Hoped one day they’d come back so I could thank them. That first night Desmond chased me, I was scared shitless, and I swear I thought I was going to die.”

  He stares at me, still registering everything. We lived in the same town at some point. We didn’t know each other then, but we’re connected—because of those damn bleachers that almost killed me, and saved him.

  “That was you?” he asks.

  I nod, and then let out a soft laugh. “Well, it was my dad.”

  He swallows. “I
knew there was something about you, Cakes.” His finger moves to my cheekbone, running over it gently before pressing his lips to mine. “It’s serendipitous. They should make a movie about us.”

  My laughter falls into his mouth because he doesn’t know the half of it, and then he’s kissing me again. I pull away slightly to speak against his lips. “Sorry to break it to you, but Serendipity is already a movie.”

  He grins. “Then call ours Under the Bleachers. And don’t even think about turning it into a drama. It’s a rom-com. The guy gets the girl in the end. I won’t have it any other way.”

  My smile falters as my heart thrums in my chest. “You don’t get to direct your own movie, Zach.”

  He kisses me again. “I’ll do whatever I have to do, Cakes. I’m not letting you go. One day, you’ll trust that.”

  In a heartbeat, the mood changes from light to heavy as my feelings for Zach take hold of every part of me. There’s no denying this.

  I swallow. “When I woke up in the hospital there was a nurse talking to my dad. I remember how nice she was … and so incredibly beautiful … but I just got this strange feeling when I saw them together. My mom was away on a shoot with my sister. Just a few towns over, but my accident wasn’t enough to bring them home.” I swallow, because this might tear me apart to speak aloud. “That was the day they met.”

  “Who, Cakes?” His hand gently caresses my arm, but nothing can soothe this knot in my stomach and weight on my heart that I’ve carried for so long.

  “My dad and his new wife. He married the nurse, Zach. When she opened the door for Maggie and me—I figured it out. If I hadn’t fallen from the bleachers that day…” I stutter through the thickness in my throat and the liquid filling my eyes. “It’s all my fault.”

  He holds me tightly, kissing my cheek with trembling lips. “No, baby, no,” his husky voice demands gently. “Look at me, Cakes.” He wipes the tears as I pull my head up to face him. “Your father made some shitty decisions and that’s not your fault.”

 

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