Going Long (Waiting on the Sidelines)

by Ginger Scott

  “Ah. No feeling bad, I told you, I don’t need anything,” I said, sliding over the second box. Nolan recognized it instantly, her eyes popping back up to mine.

  “Oh my God!” she gasped, covering her mouth and grinning ear-to-ear. “You kept this? All this time?”

  “You bet your ass I kept it. When a hot girl shows up at my door, and hands me a box of important things like this, I store it safely—even if she’s pissed as hell when she does it,” I said, recalling the time we’d broken up in high school. Nolan had showed up at my dad’s house with her box of mementoes, thrusting them at me angrily. I’d put the box in my attic when she did and had forgotten about it until the fire. I knew it wouldn’t replace a lot of the memories Nolan had saved in her room, but it was a good start. And they were all memories of us, and that’s what I wanted her to hold onto most.

  I slid her close to me again, and we both pulled out the various pictures and love notes I’d given her. She had dried the rose I gave her the summer before our junior year, its pedals flat and crisp now. She giggled when I tried to sniff it, and scrunched my nose at its stink. “It’s for keep-saking, not smelling, idiot,” she joked, giggling a little quietly.

  I sat back after a while and just watched her as she went through the various items she’d saved in that box. I could tell when she was reaching back for fond memories, her body language telling me she was happy and remembering all of the good that was us. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Nolan had always been beautiful, uniquely beautiful. She didn’t need makeup, or hairstyles, or skimpy clothing. She was a what-you-see-is-what-you-get American-blooded girl. Her long, brown, wavy hair caressed her shoulders, and framed her big eyes—eyes that couldn’t bluff against her feelings if her life depended on it. Yes, she’d always been a beautiful girl. But as a woman? She was fucking stunning. And while the curves and softness of her naked body and the sexiness of her lips drove me wild, it was the entire package that had me starving for air. She was it for me. And I had to have her, for always.

  She was walking into the kitchen to put the boxes back on the counter, when I noticed she’d paused in front of one of Rosie’s sprigs of mistletoe that hung from one of the wooden archways. I raced to my feet and was next to her in seconds, my chest flat to her back while I slowly slid my hands up the sides of her arms, over her shoulders and into her hair, lifting it to reveal her long, slender neck. I breathed against it softly at first, smelling the strawberry scent of her hair and slightly tasting her skin before biting at her earlobe. I felt her body quiver, and she started to turn to face me, her eyes cautious, but full of want. I pointed up above her as she faced me. “Mistletoe,” I grinned, tilting one side of my mouth up, sinisterly. “You can’t mess with mistletoe. I have to kiss you, it’s the rule.”

  Nolan’s face slid into a smile then too, her teeth grazing her bottom lip while her eyes shifted between mine and my mouth, her breathing getting more and more ragged with every second. My palms were resting on her hips, but they were hungry to touch her, feel her. I slid them to her back, and up the bottom of her shirt until I was gripping her bare skin, feeling the heat of it along my fingertips as I worked my way up and down, still holding her gaze.

  She stepped into me more, our chests touching, and her nose tickling the center of my body, right where my heart lives. She tilted her head to look straight up at me, biting her lip harder now, her eyelids heavy. I felt her hands grip the bottom of my shirt and begin to pull it up, so I helped her pull it over my head and discard it on the floor. Her hands continued to roam, gripping my stomach, and then grazing up my chest and to my chin and neck and then back down. Our eyes were locked, and the tension was fucking undeniable. I wanted her. And she was giving me permission. But I was fighting with myself, afraid it was too soon, that our trust hadn’t been mended enough.

  I was lost in my head when I felt the coolness of her lips against my chest as she began kissing her way up to my neck, my breathing failing me now. I had a solid grip on the back of the sweatpants she was wearing, like a leash keeping my hands in check. I didn’t have much restraint left in me, though. And when Nolan reached down to pull her own shirt up and over her head, pressing her bare skin against mine fiercely, reaching into my hair and pulling my mouth to hers hard, I lost control over everything.

  Our tongues tangled as I reached behind her and lifted her to me, her legs wrapping around me and holding me to her tightly. “We can’t stay here,” I said into her ear as I kissed my way up and down her neck.

  “Okay,” she whispered, kissing me again and holding on tighter as I turned to the stairs, and carried her all the way to my room. I kicked the door closed behind me and walked us over to my bed, my lips never once leaving hers. I leaned forward, laying her down, and held myself above her. I stopped kissing her just long enough to look into her wanting eyes—just long enough to make sure this was okay, and okay tonight. When she slid up the bed and pulled me with her, I had the confirmation I needed.

  I felt Nolan reaching for my jeans, and I stood to pull them off, returning to her in seconds, almost as if my body would suffocate without her touch. I peeled her bra down her shoulders before removing that, too. I kissed her breasts, taking my time, not wanting this night to end. I rolled her on top of me then, and she sat up, straddling me, her hands digging into my chest for balance, and her hair draping over our faces. I reached up to tuck it behind her ears, and she licked at her lips softly to moisten them. Fuck. I was done.

  Gripping her head more, I pulled her back to me and sucked in her bottom lip. She was reaching to remove her pants, and I leaned over to my nightstand to pull out a condom. When I looked back, she was completely naked and ready, so beautiful and so full of fire. I knew I should stop, slow things down. But I just couldn’t do it. I nodded to her, making sure this was what she wanted. And then she took the condom from me and finished putting it on me herself.

  Within seconds, we were connected, our bodies completely in sync, and Nolan’s eyes staring deep into mine. I reached up to grab her face between my hands and kissed her tenderly, slowly, and passionately as we made love to one another, the faint sounds of Christmas music drifting up to my room from downstairs. Time felt irrelevant, and our messy, recent past seemed so, too. All that mattered was now, and moving forward. Feeling her, smelling her, being able to touch her, and hear her, share my secrets with her—that’s all I wanted in life.

  “I love you,” I breathed into her, “so fucking much.”

  I felt her body shake a bit, and noticed the small tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. I reached up to stop them with my thumbs, wiping each away and stroking her face tenderly. “Don’t cry, Princess. We’re okay. Everything’s okay. I have you, and I’m not letting go,” I said, kissing her harder now, like I was laying claim to her and binding us together forever physically.

  “I love you, too. You’re my everything,” she said, her voice cracking as she spoke. I pulled her close to me, and we moved together—here in the same room I’d first confessed my feelings to her. We were kids then, our problems such adolescent bullshit. We’d grown so much. And we’d taken major fucking steps backward. But here we were, back to us. And there was no way I was ever letting go. Our bodies were wet with sweat, and our hearts were racing, as we both climbed together until I felt her body shudder, and I followed her, holding her tightly, and refusing to let go until I felt her body still with exhaustion.

  I left my bed for a quick shower and turned out every light in the house, setting my alarm to wake us up at sunrise, hoping like hell we’d beat the rest of the house. But I wasn’t letting Nolan leave my bed tonight. Her dad could beat my ass in the morning, and I’d deserve it. But I didn’t care. She wasn’t leaving these arms. I pulled my blanket up over us as I lay next to her and held her close, the beat of her heart the only sound I could hear.

  My lullaby.

  Nolan was stubborn about waking up in the morning. I knew my pops wouldn’t care, but I was pretty sure hers wou
ld, so I started trying to wake her around 5 in the morning, well before the sun came up.

  “Mmmmmmm,” she brushed at her hair, flinching at my breath as I blew lightly at her face. “More sleeeeep.”

  She rolled over and pulled the blanket tightly over her head. So damned adorable. I pulled the corner of the blanket up and snuck underneath next to her, lifting it slightly and nestling my nose right against hers. “What do they call those? Eskimo kisses?” I said, nudging her cheek then with my nose.

  She scrunched her face, still keeping her eyes tightly shut. “Ewwwww, your breath stinks,” she said, raising her hand up to pinch her nose shut. I pulled it away and breathed at her again, just to tease her. “Gross!”

  She peeked one eye open at me then. “Popeye,” I teased her. She smacked my bicep and pulled the blankets up around her nose. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll brush my teeth. But youuuuu have got to get up.”

  I yanked the blanket from the bed, leaving her there half exposed and uncomfortable while I went into the bathroom. “That was a jerk move,” she grumbled.

  “Yeah, well, desperate times call for desperate measures, Princess,” I said, tapping on my wrist to signal what time it was. This seemed to get her moving quickly as her eyebrows shot up a bit, and she jumped from the bed, pulling up her pants and running her fingers through her hair.

  “Shit, do you think anyone’s awake?” she asked.

  “No, I’m pretty sure we beat the house up,” I mumbled through my toothpaste-filled mouth. Nolan cracked the door open then and listened while I finished getting ready.

  “Shhhhhh,” she whispered over her shoulder. “I think we’re good.”

  I followed Noles down the hallway and to the stairs, poking at her sides and forcing her to stifle giggles. We made it into the kitchen just in time to see Jason sliding through the front door, coffee in hand. I slid a mug over to Nolan, and she pretended to have just finished drinking when I picked it up from her, and asked her if she wanted a refill with a wink. “Yes, please,” she said, grinning at me behind Jason’s back.

  The house started to fill up with people, and Nolan slipped out unnoticed to head to the guesthouse to shower and change, just as her parents came in to join us. Rosie started cooking breakfast, and by the time she was done, Nolan was back.

  Christmas Eve was always a tradition at my dad’s house. Most of his buddies from college, and their families came to the house along with some of his closest business partners. Pops always had a big Christmas Eve gathering; I think partly to make up for the fact that I always had to spend the actual holiday with Mom. Rosie seemed to be in her element, serving up sausage and biscuits to the dozens of people now filing into the house. She’d been helping my dad on Christmas Eve for years. And the time hit me in the face when her son Edmund showed up with a family of his own.

  “Mijo, come here,” Rosie said, squeezing my arm and turning me to follow her. “You remember Edmund? You were probably five years old when he used to babysit you. He’s on leave for the holidays. George couldn’t make it, but it’s nice to have one of my boys here.”

  I shook Edmund’s hand, and shook my head in disbelief. Here was this mature, grown man who I remembered looking like a teenager. Rosie was hugging Edmund’s wife hello when a little girl with long pigtails came running up and leapt into Edmund’s arms, burying her face into her father’s chest. She reminded me so much of Nolan.

  “Samantha, can you say hi?” Edmund said softly in his daughter’s ear? The shy girl peered from under his arm, and smiled at me softly before ducking back into her father’s arms.

  “It’s okay, maybe next time,” I smiled at Edmund who just shrugged his shoulders.

  “She’s super shy. She’ll warm up to you, though,” he said, patting me on the back while he walked away to join his wife in the living room. As he did, Samantha popped her head above his shoulder and smiled bigger now, raising her tiny hand to scrunch her fingers at me for a covert wave. I raised my hand and gave her a small one back before putting my finger to my mouth to give her a shhhhh, like it would be our little secret.

  Rosie’s family was beautiful, and I found myself envious of her son. I walked out to the patio where I found Nolan talking with her parents, and for the first time in weeks, my grandmother’s ring made its way back into my thoughts, it’s weight comfortably back on my mind.

  Christmas Eve was a full day of eating and drinking at the Johnson house. A few card games were in progress on the back patio and, somehow, old UofA football games made their way to the big screen TV, my dad and his college buddies camped in front of it reliving their glory days. Nolan’s dad, Rich, seemed to like the stories, though, because he was settled in on the sofa next to my dad, honestly interested in every word. The scene made me laugh a little when I made my way to the front driveway to get a little air and look for my girl.

  “Hey, you see Nolan?” I asked Jason who was leaning against the garage, smoking a cigar. He always smoked cigars on special holidays. I don’t think he even really liked them, he just liked how important they made him look in his own mind.

  “Nope,” Jason said, uninterested.

  “Okay then, thanks…asshole,” I said the last part a bit under my breath.

  “What was that?” Jason asked, walking up to me and stomping out his cigar on the ground. We hadn’t been kind to one another in years, so why he was taking offense to it now baffled me.

  “Look, man. I was just razzing you, no big,” I said, backing up and turning around. Just then, I felt a fist slam into my back, knocking the wind out of me, and sending me forward on my feet.

  “What the fuck?” I yelled, turning around and getting my balance, my feet under me now.

  “What’d you say to Dylan about me? You tell her I’m a player? That I sleep around?” Jason was pissed, and unreasonable.

  “Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?” I asked, holding my hands up now, ready to defend myself.

  “Dylan took off this morning, said we needed some time apart, things were moving too fast,” and as Jason spoke, I was starting to realize something. He actually liked Dylan, maybe even loved her. “So what did you do man? I know you said something. You hate me so much, can’t stand my success.”

  “Jason, look…I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, backing off from him a little and shaking my head in an effort to get him to calm down.

  “Ooooooh, wait a minute. I know,” he had that tone suddenly. “You were jealous. You envy me because I have a real woman—and you’re still with some fucking girl from high school. My girlfriend looks like a supermodel, while yours…” he let an evil laugh slip slowly from his throat. “Yours looks like a grocery clerk…just like her fucking mom.”

  I’ve wanted to hit Jason in the face for about a decade, but never in a million years would I have thought the feeling of my fist smashing into his nose would feel as satisfying as it did in that instant. If I had known, I would have done it years ago…and probably often. Within seconds, I had Jason on the ground, and was pounding at his jaw and chest and arms. He was scrappy, though, and had managed to wiggle out from under me and kick me a few times, too. We were both standing in a face-off finally, taking turns sending punches at each other’s face, circling each other like boxers used to do in the ring, when my dad’s voice broke through the bubble Jason and I seemed to be operating in.

  “Boys! My office! Now! The both of you!” Pops yelled, his voice bellowing and the disappointment and anger punctuating each and every word. Jason and I turned from each other slowly, breathless, as we walked side-by-side toward the house. Our eyes remained angry and locked, but I realized that Nolan and her family had gathered outside now, too. And my heart sank a bit with worry that they had heard some of Jason’s venom. He spit a little at the ground right before we walked in the house, and I felt satisfied knowing I made him bleed.

  My dad was finally out of his cast, which meant he could pace back and forth in front of Jason and me like we were
children. Being in his office on Christmas with a house full of family and friends was mortifying, but I didn’t regret finally giving Jason the beating he’d deserved.

  “What the hell was that?” Dad finally asked, leaning on his desk and crossing his arms. “Like zoo animals, you both are. You were raised better than that. You’re brothers, start acting like it!”

  Dad was angry, angrier than I’d seen him in my entire life. I was content to just nod my head, and apologize in order to get the old man’s blood pressure back down to normal, but Jason couldn’t let it rest. “Come on, Dad? Reed’s out of control. He flew off the handle at me for no reason, sensitive pussy,” Jason said, thinking he’d just be able to bluff his way through this, that I wouldn’t call him on it. Well, I’d grown up since our last fight. I stood up from my chair and leaned over into him, my face close to his.

  “You disrespected the girl I love, you asshole. You disrespected her family. You embarrass me, and I won’t call you brother,” I said through clenched teeth, slamming back into my seat and folding my arms again in an effort to control my anger.

  Jason just rolled his eyes at my words and let out a big sigh. I watched as my father stared at him for a long time, finally drawing Jason’s attention. “What?” Jason asked, rolling his shoulders as if he were innocent. “Oh come on, Pops. He’s being sensitive, and stupid.”

  Dad cut him off then. “Just shut up, Jason,” Dad said, his voice calmer now, but his words still carrying a bite. “I don’t know where I failed you, but I’m sorry.”

  Jason was looking at the floor now, his eyes a little glassy, but his arms still crossed like mine, fighting everything. “Did you hear me?” Dad asked, forcing Jason to look at him. “I said I’m sorry. Son, I taught you everything I know about business. And man…you are one hell of a businessman. You’re better than me.”

  Jason scoffed at my dad, looking down, embarrassed now.

  “No, Jason. I’m serious. You are a better businessman than me,” Pops said, holding his gaze level. “But Reed’s a better man. And it’s my fault. I didn’t teach you enough about that. And I’m the one to blame. But I hope like hell you can come out the other end of this, because if you don’t, you’re going to live a sad life, full of anger and resentment. And you’re going to be alone.”