by Jordan Ford
Something in my chest unravels as I listen to her.
“I can’t imagine what he went through finding the courage to tell Dad the truth. Thankfully, parents love their kids… Well, most parents do, and they want their kids to be happy. I know your father’s not with you anymore, but even beyond the grave, he’d want you to be happy, right?”
“I wish I could ask him.” My voice is husky and raw.
“You don’t need to.” Kaija squeezes my elbow. “I’m telling ya, mate. He wants you to be happy.”
I grin at her words. “You seem pretty sure about that.”
“If you played to feel close to him, you must have loved him…and kids only love their parents that much when their parents have loved them like they should. Your dad must have been an amazing man.”
“Yeah, he was,” I murmur, struggling to swallow the lump in my throat.
With another melt-my-heart grin, Kaija wraps her arms around me, resting her head on my shoulder and giving me a tight squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, Mack. You’ll find your way.”
I hug her back, fighting a burning in my eyes. I don’t know what it’s all about, but like hell I’m crying in front of this girl. Kissing the top of her head, I run my arms down her back and then lean away from her.
“This is not at all how I expected this date to go.”
“It’s a date?” Kaija’s eyes dance with mischief. “Sheesh, you sure know how to impress a girl. Here I was thinking you’d be putting on airs, and you just go straight for the gut-wrenching truth.”
“Hey, that’s completely your fault.” I let her go and point at her.
“Me? All I did was stand here, and you just opened up like a burst pipe!”
“It’s not my fault you’re a truth faucet. I haven’t told anyone any of this stuff and you give me one smile and I’m torn wide open.”
She laughs. “It’s called a tap, not a faucet.”
I snatch her wrist and pull her to my side, loving her height and the way she fits against me. “Hey, you’re in my turf now; it’s called a faucet.”
“Okay, I’ll let you have that one.” She steps back and looks down between us. “So, what turf am I standing on at this moment?”
I look down, scanning the straight white lines painted on the field. “We’re in the red zone right now.”
“The red zone. That sounds dangerous.”
I love the playful glint in her eyes.
“Well, it can be. You see…” I pull her against me…again. I can’t help it. “This is the space just before the end zone. You want to make sure your opposition stays well clear of your red zone.”
“I see.” She glides her hands up my arms, linking her fingers behind my neck. “And what about a foreign girl with an adorable accent?”
“Oh, her?” I tip my head, fighting a smile. “Well, if I ever find one, I’ll be telling her she can hang out in my red zone anytime.”
“Oh!” She slaps my chest, jerking out of my arms with a laugh. “You are so not getting kissed this afternoon.”
“Come on, that was a joke.”
“You were so close too.” She puts on a pout. “Such a shame.”
I point at her. “I’m getting that kiss.”
“Nah, mate, you’re really not.” But the sparkle in her eyes says otherwise.
A low growl reverberates in my chest. She lets out a scream and starts sprinting down the field, her melodic laughter spurring me on.
I chase after her. She’s faster than I thought she’d be and really makes me work for it, but I catch her in the opposite red zone. Wrapping my arms around her stomach, I lift her off the ground and swing her around until her legs become propellers. Her long hair tickles my neck. Her laughter surrounds me. She’s taking over every one of my senses, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this light and happy. I don’t even need to kiss her. When it comes to this girl, just hanging out is enough.
#20:
A Rickety Mess
Kaija
Mack swings me around until we both tumble to the ground, dizzy wrecks. Shifting up my body, he nestles himself against me, gazing into my eyes and gently brushing wisps of hair off my face. It feels magical.
I’ve kissed plenty of guys before but never experienced this kind of anticipation. His lips are so close. My mouth is buzzing as he inches towards me.
And then his phone rings.
I flinch while he groans and presses his forehead against mine. Reaching into his back pocket, he yanks his phone free. The way his face flickers with worry when he reads the screen makes me curious. We sit up together as he answers the call.
“Hey, sis. What’s up?” His bright tone is forced; I can tell by the tension in his jaw. “You did what?” He closes his eyes, scrubbing a hand down his face and suddenly looking twice his age.
I skim his arm with my fingers. He flashes me a pained look of apology, then mutters, “Yeah, okay. I’ll come get ya.”
Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he stands tall and reaches down to help me up.
“Everything okay?” I brush my butt. Keeping the disappointment from my voice is kind of impossible so I just lower my tone instead.
“Yeah, just my…” He sighs, scraping his fingers through his hair. “My sister is…” His full lips purse, and agitation radiates off him.
I smile and reach for his hand. “You’re a good brother.”
He threads his fingers between mine, then looks at our connection while he’s speaking. “I feel like her father sometimes and I really hate it. She skipped out of school this afternoon to go shopping with Michelle and they just happened to get busted by Principal Matthis. She’s in detention now and he’s threatening to call Mom. I need to go smooth things over. She and Mom haven’t been the same since our stepfather came along.”
My heart pinches tight, sensing there’s more to the story. “Like I said, you’re a good brother.”
His thumb rubs over mine. Such a simple gesture, yet it feels so amazing.
“What the hell is she going to do next year when I’m in Boise?”
“She’s going to be okay, Mack. She has to learn to fight her own battles eventually, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He sighs. “At least I can still come home on the weekends.”
“She’ll figure it out. Sometimes life dishes out wake-up calls you can’t ignore.” My throat swells, making it hard to swallow. I suddenly feel undeserving of his touch, so I wriggle my hand free and tuck it into my back pocket. “I’ll let you get going.”
I turn to leave but he captures my hand before I can escape. I let him pull me back to his side. “I need your number. I want to call you tonight and see if I can convince you to kiss me tomorrow.”
I grin and have to seriously fight the laughter bubbling in my chest. Stepping back, I hold out my hand. “Gimme your phone.”
He passes it over and I memorize that sexy little smirk of his.
I tap in my US number and hand it back with a grin. “Good luck playing dad.”
He rolls his eyes and lets out another groan before squeezing the phone in his hand and jogging back into school. I watch him until he’s out of sight.
Falling in love with Mack Mahoney is going to be a piece of cake.
I should be terrified, but I can’t stop buzzing. I walk back to the Fosters’ with a bounce in my step. I eat dinner, fighting a smile the whole time. I’ve never behaved this way before. Guys don’t make me gooey…
I guess I just hadn’t met the right one yet.
At eight o’clock, my phone starts beeping with a FaceTime call. I snatch it off my desk and head for the bed, flopping onto my pillow and answering with a smile.
“G’day.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of that accent.” Mack winks at me and my heart melts. Seriously, what am I turning into?
I roll onto my stomach, perching my chin on my hand and smiling down at the screen. “How’d it go?”
“Oh,
you know, the usual. Principal Matthis likes me, so I used my charm to save my sister’s butt, promising him that it won’t happen again. I drove her home, swearing to keep her antics on the down-low.” He rolls his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if I should just out her to Mom, but I don’t think our house is built to withstand a nuclear meltdown.”
I laugh. “Thank God college is just around the corner, right?”
“Hmmmm.” He looks sad but tries to hide it behind a cocky smile. “So, rugby. You guys have a red zone in that sport?”
“Nice topic change. Very subtle.”
He winces. “Please, just let me have it.”
The silent plea for mercy sweeping across his face does me in, so I give in with a short nod. I start telling him all about the sport that has dominated my home since before I can remember.
Four hours later, we end the call. I’ve moved from my stomach to my side, to lying on my back with my feet resting on the wall. My legs flop down to the mattress and I curl onto my side. I feel like a rickety mess. Brushing a thumb over my phone screen, I let out a soft squeal and hug it to my chest, already looking forward to a repeat. My brain tries to dump all over my happy parade with a reminder that I’ve spent most of our four-hour chat steering the conversation away from my high school experience. Mack was nice enough not to notice. At least I don’t think he did. We talked rugby, football, family, movies, music, cars, football again, touched on rugby one last time, and then spent half an hour saying goodbye to each other.
I nearly said, “No, you hang up,” but caught myself in the nick of time. I am so not going to be that pathetic, needy girl. Yet, when it comes to Mack I want more…and maybe a little more, and then a pinch more after that.
I close my eyes with a dreamy smile. Inching up the bed, I snuggle into my pillow, not even bothering to change into my jim-jams before falling asleep.
*****
So, I get my rinse and repeat on the FaceTime call. Mack calls me each night at eight and we talk until midnight. You’d think we’d run out of things to say, but we don’t. Childhood stories and memories of his dad take up a lot of time. Not that I’m complaining. I love listening to him, watching his face as he opens up about stuff he must have never told anyone. I feel so privileged that he’s willing to open up to me…and then I feel insanely guilty for not telling him the truth about my life.
But I can’t.
It’ll change everything between us. I’m scared he’ll never look at me the same way again. I don’t want that brilliant gaze of his to change. I want him to keep thinking I’m this amazing, love-worthy person.
Spinning the ball in my hands, I walk up the school steps and head to Mack’s locker. Most of me feels that light, happy giddiness I’ve enjoyed all week. And then there’s the small, constant guilt-bug inside, chowing on my stomach lining. Lifting my chin, I pull my shoulders back and ignore it. It’s Friday, and the first afternoon Mack has been free since our non-kiss date on the football field. We still haven’t had a chance to make out, and I’m hoping to change that this afternoon.
Mack’s standing at his locker, chatting with Layla and Roxy. The blue-eyed brunette is playing with her hair and doing the hip-jut thing. I roll my eyes and wait her out.
Although Mack and I have both acknowledged we more than like each other, we don’t really want to make it public. I can’t even explain why. We both seem protective of whatever we’ve got going on, and exposing it will put us in the line of fire. I don’t want to dwell on it, but we’re on limited time as it is. We want to suck every sweet moment we can from this, and that’s not going to happen surrounded by his posse of coolness.
Mack nods, focusing on Layla, but then Roxy starts talking and his gaze wanders the hallway. He spots me hovering around the corner. Our eyes connect and he fights a smile. I grin, sticking out my hip and doing the ultimate hair toss. Okay, now he’s fighting laughter. His face is getting red trying to contain it. I wriggle my eyebrows and wink at him.
Wiping his mouth, he coughs over his laugh and then checks his watch. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but thirty seconds later he’s loping down the hallway towards me. With a triumphant smirk, I position myself in a quiet alcove next to a janitor’s closet. Mack appears, his gorgeous face and towering persona sending electric sparks right through my center.
“G’day, Kiwi Girl.”
I snicker as he attempts my accent. “Don’t even try. You’ll never pull it off.”
“I’m going to keep working on it anyway.” He leans closer and gives me a sexy wink. “Nice to see you in the flesh, pretty lady. Am I going to get my kiss this afternoon?”
“It’s highly possible.” I pull away from him when a group of girls rushes past us. Thankfully, they’re all so busy jabbering that they don’t even notice me. Lifting the ball in my hands, I pass it to him.
“Is that a…?”
“Rugby ball, yes. I thought maybe I could teach you how to play.”
His eyes light up like I’ve just given him a million dollars. “That’s going to be like the sexiest thing ever.”
A loud laugh bursts out of me. “Hardly! But it should be heaps of fun.”
His grin tells me I’ve said something very un-American. He doesn’t say anything, just leans forward so his lips brush my cheek on the way to my ear. “I’m looking forward to it, Kiwi Girl. See you in the red zone.”
“I’ll be there.”
The bell jolts us apart. I soak in his luscious wink, then check out his butt as he saunters away from me. He is all kinds of good-looking.
“Mhm.” I lick my bottom lip and watch until he’s out of sight.
Spinning for my locker, I race to change my books before I’m late for class. I still can’t believe I’m acting like such a lovesick fool. Of all the crushes I’ve had in my lifetime, I’ve never experienced anything like this. I wouldn’t even put it in the crush zone—this is something else entirely.
I never expected this to happen when I came here. I seriously don’t deserve it. But my heart is ruling this one, and I don’t think my head will ever be loud enough to outshout whatever the heck is going on inside of me.
At least that’s what I convince myself…until I turn up to my study period and find a very serious-faced Anderson Foster waiting for me in the library.
#21:
My Girl
Mack
I stand on the field waiting for my girl. Can I call her that? It feels right. I’ve never wanted to call anyone else that before. A smile tugs at the edge of my mouth. Kiwi Girl has definitely done a number on me. I’m loving it.
Spinning the rugby ball in my hands, I catch it and rub my thumb over the bumpy surface. It’s a slightly different shape to the football I’ve spent my life holding, but I kind of like it. I raise my arm above my head, faking a spiral pass down the field, but the ball’s bigger and seems to be telling me not to throw it that way…I’m doing it all wrong.
I fumble the ball and catch it just before it hits the ground, tossing it up then leaping forward to catch it against my chest. Since meeting Kaija, I’ve watched a few rugby games on YouTube. I kind of understand the game. Kaija talked me through the rules, and seeing them in action helped me get a better handle on them. I have a pretty good grasp of the overall concept now, anyway. I watched the 2015 World Cup final where the All Blacks won. From what I could gather, it was a really exciting game. I liked the fast pace and flow, and some of the tackles were epic. Seeing the guys dive across the line when they scored their tries was awesome. And just quietly, I loved that warrior dance thing they do before the game. It’s fierce, man. I hope I can get to a live game someday.
The thought of going with Kaija makes me buzz, then deflate. Reality pinches at the back of my mind. She’s going to be leaving soon, flying half a world away. I don’t know how we’re going to do it. Will she even be into a long-distance relationship? Could I handle one? I shove the question from my mind, not wanting it to shit all over our rugby date. All I can do right now i
s cherish every second I have with her. We can deal with the rest later.
I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye and spin towards it. Kaija is shuffling across the grass, her arms crossed and her expression dark and forlorn. My gut pitches, the warning traveling through me so fast I feel light-headed. Dropping the ball, I run towards her, resting my hands on her shoulders and bending down to look at her glistening eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
She shrugs me off, turning away from my grasp with a gentle sniff. “I think that maybe this is a bad idea.”
My twisted insides wrench and writhe. I clench my jaw against the verbal attack that wants to bust out of me. I hate how quick the anger flashes, but when people blow me off without an explanation it riles me big time.
Kaija can be a little hedgy. I’ve let it slide because it hasn’t affected our time together, but if she’s going to brush me off, especially after the week we’ve just had together, then she’s got some explaining to do.
Smashing my teeth together, I will the steam to evaporate and force out what I hope will be a light joke. “What, you don’t think I can learn a real man’s game?”
She doesn’t buy it. Instead, she spins to face me with a green gaze that threatens to rip me in half. “I can’t hang out with you anymore, Mack. It’s…” She huffs, her fingers pinching into her jacket. “People don’t like it.”