Hate to Love You

by Isabelle Richards

  I roll my eyes. “Could you be any more cryptic?”

  He runs his fingers down my spine. “I know how my life is going to play out, so I’m not worried. You shouldn’t worry either.”

  I roll off of him, my body tensing. He’s so cavalier about everything. Doesn’t he understand that in the blink of an eye, this can all be gone? “This is serious. You’re entering the draft in a year, and your life will explode. Nothing will ever be the same. You’ll have more demands and more pressure than you can fathom. It’s going to get harder and harder to find time to see each other and even harder to hide it. You and I can barely keep it together now, and you’re just in college. Once you go pro, it will be a whole new ballgame. It might not be worth it to you.”

  “Hold up. First, you forget that I’ve been under a microscope since I could throw a ball. Playing at Stanford isn’t that far of a stretch from going pro. Before you get all high and mighty and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about, I know it’ll be different, but not other worldly different. Plus, I’ll have you as my pro-athlete mentor. You’ll guide me through anything. Second, you will always be worth it.”

  I bring my knees up to my chest. “You say that now...” Today, everything is romantic and wonderful, but once he’s drafted, the whole world will want a piece of him. He has no idea what or whom he’s going to want once that happens.

  He gently rubs my shoulders. “Ari, you will always be worth it. This part right now, it’ll be rough, but I know it’s only temporary. You and me. Don’t you see it?” I look over my shoulder at him. He has a dreamy look in his eye as he stares at the hideous wallpaper.

  “See what?” I ask.

  He pulls me back into his arms. “You, me, and a baseball team full of kids running around.”

  “Nine kids? You see us with nine kids?”

  “At least. Maybe we should make it a solid dozen. We’ll have an iron man football team.”

  He’s insane, yet he looks completely serious. Fine, I’ll play along with this delusion. “What if they’re girls?”

  He turns us so that he can prop himself up on the headboard and I can rest my head on his chest. “Softball or basketball players then. Maybe soccer or lacrosse. Definitely not tennis players.”

  I scowl. “And why is that? What’s wrong with tennis players?”

  He twists one of my curls around his finger. “Come on, Blondie. You may be the world’s best tennis player, but you don’t love it. You do it because you’re Savannah’s daughter and because you were born to do it, but it isn’t your reason for living. You’d much rather be on a football field.”

  “You’re just jealous because I can throw a better spiral than you.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “I’m not wrong though.”

  I let out a long sigh. “You’re not wrong.”

  “If they’re girls, they’ll all be blond-haired beauties just like you. I’ll have to retire and stand guard with a shotgun to protect my baby girls from assholes like me. God’s punishment for being a player. Reformed player, I mean.”

  I jab him in the ribs. “Nice save.”

  “I am reformed. All this crap is behind us, I swear. Haven’t you noticed how well I’ve behaved? Even when we were broken up?”

  I rack my brain, going through the last few months. I didn’t see any posts of him with half-naked girls on Facebook or tweets of his debauchery. It was quiet.

  “I’m learning, Ari. I’m trying. I really want us to work. I meant what I said. When I think of my future, I can only think of you.”

  I want to scream “Bullshit,” but I don’t want to spoil the moment. I only get this side of Chase when things are good, and this Chase is why I keep coming back. This Chase is the reason I hang on through the stupid accusations and the petty revenge crap. This Chase gives me hope.

  He flips me over so I can face him. “Are you telling me you never think about it?”

  The air-conditioning kicks on, and I pull a sheet over us. “I don’t know. I guess I never let myself go there with you. Every time I think we’re solid, something happens, and we fall apart at the seams. When we love, we love hard, but when we hate, we’re so full of venom. Bouncing back and forth between the two makes it hard to see a future. ”

  “That’s fair,” he replies, tucking the sheet under me. “I haven’t helped with the way I’ve reacted every time we split, but I want all of that to change. I’m tired of the back and forth. I want us to be real. For real. The next time I come to one of these shindigs, I want you on my arm rather than pretending to be at my throat the whole time.”

  I brush a stray lock off his forehead. “I’m sure I’ll still be at your throat, but that’s just how we roll. But it would be nice not to have to deal with all the skanks throwing themselves at you.”

  “Like I don’t have to deal with every guy in the place eye-fucking you?”

  He’s such a drama queen. “At a football-related event, they’re all too petrified of my father to look at me like that. I am as off limits as it comes.”

  He pats my head. “It’s so cute that you actually think that. Any guy there would have pulled that sexy dress of yours up, bent you over the table, and—”

  I tickle his stomach but he flexes his abs so he can barely feel it. “Chase Brennan, you certainly must have been thinking some naughty thoughts during the ceremony tonight.”

  “When it comes to you, baby, always.” I tilt my head back and look at him. He places a sweet kiss on my lips.

  “Do you think our families could handle it?” I ask, trying to picture their reactions.

  “At this point, I’m not sure I care anymore.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chase

  I drive over to Charlie’s in the morning, hoping to figure out what’s going on. It’s still early and the fog hasn’t lifted, but I can’t wait. We’ve been fighting for far too long, and I have no clue what I’ve done. We’re being pulled apart, and it needs to stop.

  Spencer opens the door, looking as though he hasn’t slept. “I’m sorry, man, but she doesn’t want to see you.”

  “Spence, let me in.”

  He blocks the doorway. “I can’t. She said specifically she doesn’t want to see you. I’ll tell her you came by, but that’s all I can do.”

  I’ve never punched my best friend, but I’m coming close to it now. “She’s my goddamn sister. Move the fuck out of the way.”

  He rests his forearms against the doorjamb. “She’s my wife, and this is my house. In this case, that trumps the twin card. Go home, Chase. It’ll all work out. She just needs some time.”

  I turn on my heel and pace his front walk. “Bullshit. That’s fucking bullshit. My guts have been in knots since last night. You know when she’s upset, I feel it. I have to sort this out with her.”

  He closes the front door and sits on the bench on the porch. “I hear you, but she’s pissed at you, and I can’t get her to calm down enough to tell me why. I’m guessing the fertility hormones are part of this, but it’s more than that. Once she’s calm, I’ll tell her you came by, and of course I’ll try to get her to talk to you. But I’ll be honest—I don’t know how long that will be. I’ve never see her like this. Whatever you did, you fucked up big time.”

  I lean against the porch railing across from him. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Arianna—I can feel it. She’s been blabbing to everyone and turning everyone against me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. As far as I know, only Charlie and I know, and we found out under duress.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He shakes his head. “No way. Charlie would have my balls. You need to ask her or Ari. I was just the getaway driver.”

  I pick a leaf off one of his bushes and shred it. “Fucking Arianna. The second she gets back into town, she turns my whole life upside down. She should just go back to South Africa where she belongs.”

  He chuckles. “That’s the last place she should be.”

  �
��Fine, Germany. Wherever the fuck douchnozzel lives. That’s where she belongs. Makes more sense for her to be there than here. At least there she isn’t stirring up trouble for me.”

  He looks down. “No comment.”

  “What do you know?” I demand.

  He holds up his hands. “Dude, don’t put me in the middle. You want to know what’s going on with Arianna, try talking to her. Now get out of here before Charlie sees you and starts crying again.”

  I pace again. “Our whole lives, my sister and I have never fought. In the last two months, we’ve done nothing but fight. I just don’t get it. The only thing that’s changed is Ari came back to town, and now everything is fucked up.”

  He pats my back as he walks to his door. “In the last two years, you’ve changed, and I think it’s finally coming to a head. Stop blaming everyone else, and take a good long look at yourself.” He slams the door in my face.

  As I drive away, I process what Spence said, but I’m more confused than ever. I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about. My life has changed, but I don’t think I have. I’ve tried to stay grounded, not let the fame get to me. Since Ari and I ended, I’m not constantly keeping secrets and coming up with lies. That alone should make things better, but instead it turned my life upside down and inside out. She shredded me. I didn’t have the luxury of hiding and licking my wounds like she did though. The season was just about to start, and the press was all over me. I needed to move forward. Jenna is a way forward.

  Speaking of which, she’s standing in my driveway.

  “Where have you been, Chase? I haven’t heard from you all week.”

  I close the door to my truck and lean against it. “Been busy. Practice, QB meetings, and there’s been some drama with Charlie.”

  Her eyes bug out, and she storms toward me. “What? What did Charlie say to you?”

  “Nothing. She’s not speaking to me at all. Why? What do you know?”

  She looks away. “I don’t know anything. I was just curious.” She relaxes and leans in to kiss me.

  I should kiss her back, but I just don’t have it in me.

  She pulls away. “What’s going on Chase?”

  “Just distracted, sorry, babe. So much going on.”

  She leans her head on my chest. “You’re always distracted when it comes to me. It’s like I can’t keep your attention anymore.”

  I run my hand up and down her back. “Things are hectic right now. It’s no big deal. We’ll catch up as soon as life settles down.”

  She pulls back and puts her hands on her hips, staring at me indignantly. “We’re planning a wedding, and you’re going into pre-season. Things aren’t going to settle down. We still have to pick out centerpieces, linens, and favors.”

  I groan. “Can we please not do this now?”

  She stomps her foot like a petulant toddler. “You never want to do this. It’s like our wedding isn’t important to you.”

  This again? Jesus, how many times are we going to go over this? Taking a deep breath, I try to remain calm. “Jenna, our wedding is important to me. I just trust that it will all come together. You know me—I don’t stress.”

  “No, you don’t stress. You dominate. When you’re committed to something, you make sure it’s done to perfection. I’ve just never seen that kind of commitment toward me.”

  “Jenna, you’re blowing this out of proportion, and I need to go to practice.”

  She throws up her hands. “You just got here! We have something serious to talk about.”

  I lean against my truck and cross my arms. “I have practice. Don’t act like I’m ditching you. This is my job. You know that place I go to make the money to pay for your car, and your condo, and this wedding?”

  “Really? So you come home just to pull in the driveway and then leave for practice as soon as you see me? That’s pretty convenient. You can’t always say you have practice when you want to get out of a conversation. I have something important to tell you.”

  “Jenna, enough. I do have practice. I was planning on running in to grab my spare set of earbuds, but now I don’t have time. We can argue about the font for the table numbers later.” I open my truck door, but she blocks me from getting in.

  “Is there someone else?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes. “Of course not. You hold the same place in my heart you always have.”

  She places her hands on my chest. “You’re more distant than normal. I keep hoping that when we get married, you’ll finally give me all your attention, but you’re drifting further and further away.”

  I lean back, trying to put some distance between us. It’s hard to do considering I’m backed against my car, but I need any space I can get. “I give you all the attention I have to give. Jesus, Jenna, I’m torn in so many damn directions. There’s only so much of me to go around. You cannot fathom the pressure I’m under, the demands on me. I’ve always been committed to the game and my family. I give you everything that’s left. That isn’t new, and you full well knew the score when we met.”

  “I’m supposed to be your family! I’m supposed to come first! I should get more than your leftovers.”

  I clench my fist and tap it on the side of my car. “Jenna, I cannot do this now,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’m going to get fined ten thousand dollars for every minute I’m late. We can talk about this later.”

  “Later, later. It’s always later for me. Never for Charlie, or your parents, or Aiden, or your team. But for me, it’s always later.” She storms away before I have a chance to say anything else.

  Yes, I could run after her, but I’m not sure what else to say. I’m giving her all I can, but nothing has changed. Except for maybe what she wants from me. She was fine with what I could offer her before, but now it’s never enough. She’s always calling, always demanding more of me. I’m a mama’s boy; she knows that. If she would try harder to be a part of my family rather than always fighting with them, I wouldn’t constantly feel I was taking sides. We’d all be on the same team.

  The drive to the stadium is a parking lot, making me almost a half hour late. Coach is probably frothing at the mouth. He loves handing out fines. Rumor has it he uses the funds to splurge on a coaches’ trip after the season.

  But my ass and my checkbook are saved by Aiden. I’m not sure why he’s here, but I owe him one. Big time. He’s got the whole team and coaching staff awestruck as he retells one of his “when I was quarterback” stories, allowing me to slip in the locker room unnoticed. The man is a living legend and can tell a story like no other. He has everyone eating out of his hand. There’s no question where Arianna gets her skills. Both of them draw you in and don’t let you go until they’re ready to release you. Aiden, however, uses his powers for good, not evil.

  “It was fourth and forty-five, and we were down by seven with twenty seconds left on the clock. Total white-out conditions. Billy Joe Cobart, my center at the time, snaps me the ball. I fall back into the pocket…”

  I’ve heard this story a million times, but I never get tired of it. Aid is a football god, and I’m so lucky to have learned from him. He taught me how to throw a perfect spiral, how to read defense, how to take a hit. He’s beloved here in San Fran, leaving me with big shoes to fill. My affiliation with him only beefs up the hype, so the pressure is on. Niner fans have been thirsting for a champion since Aid retired. When they drafted the local golden boy with a San Fran sports pedigree, everyone was sure they’d guaranteed themselves a Super Bowl victory before I even set foot on the field.

  My first year, I was the backup QB, which meant I rode the pine. But it was all worth it. I learned so much from my predecessor and the quarterback coaches. Had I been drafted by a different team, I could have started right out of college. A number of guys that went in the first round started their first year. It was disappointing at first but I quickly learned having that year to get used to differences between the pro system and the college game will only make me a better quarter
back in the long run.

  When our starter, Bennett Royce, tore his Achilles, I started the last few games of the season. We were flexed to the better time slot, ratings went through the roof, and ad revenue soared. I only had two games to prove myself. Thankfully the result was two victories where we destroyed the competition. Even with the way we dominated, once Bennett was healed, the team gave him the starting position back. It sucked, but that’s how these things go. He’s a veteran, and I still had a lot to learn from him.

  The next season started out to a rocky beginning. Royce never regained his dexterity, and our offense just couldn’t get it together. After losing six in a row, the coaches decided to give me the ball. We went on a run, finished the season with a winning record. Had the team not been so injury laden, I think we could have gone beyond the first round of the playoffs.

  To start my third season, the team is mine from game one. The fans love me today, but if I sail their beloved team into a sea of shit, they’ll lynch me.

  Aid finishes up with his glory days story, and the team breaks up to start practice. Aid comes over and gives me a hug. “How are you, my boy?”

  I lean against my locker. “You nosing around for a scoop, old man? Now that you’re playing for the press core, I’m not sure we can trust you.”

  He smirks. “Got something to hide? Just because I do play-by-play doesn’t mean I can’t do an exclusive. I’m sure I’ll get some sort of bonus.”

  I pat his arm. “Sorry, Coach. Nothing to hide. Just taking it one pass at a time. Just like you taught me.”

  “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about. Even if you had a scoop, it would be wasted on me. Everyone knows I can’t be impartial when it comes to you, so they don’t listen to me anyway.”

  I throw him a skeptical look as I throw on my practice jersey. “Yeah, right. You’re my hardest critic. You don’t let me get away with anything.”

  “In practice maybe, but out in the real world, I’m a big softie when it comes to you. Plus, I think we both know my lovely daughter is your toughest critic. She thinks you throw off your back foot too often and you’re not quick enough out of the pocket, and she isn’t shy about sharing that fact.”