by SE Hall
Tears fall freely down both her cheeks as she says nothing in response to me baring my soul, leaving me crushed when she climbs out of my truck.
AVA
His words pound in my head repeatedly and pull against every heartstring in my chest as I try to fully comprehend them. Love? How can he possibly say that word to me, the one I’ve longed to have anyone, even family, say and mean, to me my whole life when he knows I can't be with him? The hurt on his gorgeous face is absolutely tearing me apart. Things weren’t supposed to end like this and I should've listened to my gut the second I realized who he was. No, not who, because I didn’t know that until later. I really mean, if I’m being honest with myself, is what he was—an athlete, my team’s quarterback.
The drive was long and torturous, spent wishing I lived somewhere closer or had taken my own driver to avoid all this inevitable pain.
“Thank you for a wonderful time, Rush.” It takes everything in me to get those final words out as I close the passenger door, and turn to leave… avoiding his eyes. The unbearable weight of the air around us is bad enough.
I barely make it inside before slamming the door and falling back against it, sliding to the floor and allowing the tears to fall as fast as they want. My crying turns to full-body wracking as I hear his truck pull away.
“Jesus, who ate your chocolate?” Marcy’s voice startles me, but I can’t be bothered to even try to fake a half-smile; not even quick wit can pull me out of this devastated funk. She squats down next to me and wraps me in a hug. “I'm gonna go ahead and take a wild guess there that you laid out your idiotic reasoning to Rush and said goodbye?”
I jerk away from her grasp to stare at her, anger taking over just as I do. “Yes! And it’s not idiotic, Marcy, it’s my life, my responsibility! I know you told me to steer clear and not let myself get tied up with him—” She interrupts me just as I get to my feet.
“Whoa, whoa, hold up there, crazy. I never said anything even close to that. I told you to go for it, fuck all the supposed rules you keep making up in your head. Never did I tell you to deny yourself something with Rush.”
I refuse to get into this with her right now. Not only am I far from in the mood, but Marcy’s a wild spirit and has been through so many disastrous relationships I can't even begin to count them.
“Seems like I asked this exact question the last time I saw you; why are you in my house?” My attempt to change the subject doesn't work.
“I slept here last night. Long story, don’t ask, and nice try, but we’re not done discussing the reason you have giant tears in your eyes, Ava.”
“I'm fine,” I sigh, wiping away the tears that have escaped. I should've done this a few weeks ago. Now I have, and it’s truly for the best. I just, well, it’s gonna take more than five minutes to get used to.”
I head to the kitchen, badly in need of coffee, and of course…she’s hot on my heels. “By the way, love your shirt, but your hair is the really amazing part. What's that particular look called? ‘Thoroughly Fucked So You Might Wanna Wear a Hat’?”
I don't look down at my shirt, or rather his…jersey, and I damn sure don’t check my hair. Instead I keep my eyes on the coffee pot and strive for aloofness. “Yeah, his brother let me wear this after I got oil on mine.” Guaranteed, she’s about to combust, dying to ask how one gets oil on their shirt, but she doesn’t—knowing me well enough to read my body language and tone… both saying ‘I’m done talking about it!’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
AVA
I’ve lost count, but I think it’s been three, possibly four days since I’ve left my bed—except for getting up for necessities that take all of five minutes—then straight back to bed I go. Marcy’s been here each and every day, berating me about the fact that I suck and did this to myself, her same spiel on annoying repeat.
“You hold the key to your own happiness, so quit crying, get your ass up and do something about it, Ava!” she barks at me as she picks up all the wadded-up tissues surrounding me.
“My grandfather had enough faith that I'd take care of his team to leave it to me. Don’t you think I owe it to him to do so?” I snip right back at her.
“It depends on how you do it. Do I believe, for one second, your grandpa meant for you to drive yourself into depression and deny what might be love in the process? Not no, but hell no. And honestly Ava, I love you, but I’m so sick of hearing that same bullshit excuse. Flip the damn record, for real. All you have to do is come out with the information before it's leaked. That way it’s not a negative ‘we got the hot scoop secret’ headliner. It’s…page two summary, at best. If you want him, do it like that, where you have the control.”
For some reason, today’s different than the last few and I can actually hear what she's saying…and it makes sense. I've thought about Rush at least a million times this week and how much I miss him. I've even picked up my phone, wanting more than anything to hear his voice, but always talked myself out of it.
The highlight of my week was a call from the team manager, giving me an update on things. My ears perked up when he said Rush’s name, telling me he’s cleared to take the field and will be starting in today's game. I can only imagine how happy that made him, considering how happy it made me for him. I'm in mid-thought when a soft burst of warmth falls over my head.
“There, don't ever let it be said I'm not domesticated. I only kept it in the dryer long enough to finish it off… and even made sure it was inside out.”
Marcy boasts as I pull the material from my face to see a very familiar blue jersey. “Are you out of your mind?” I shriek.
“Nope. I'm giving you control, so get up and go take it. If you show up at the game wearing his number, all the work is done and you can start acting like a rational adult again. There's no scandal around your name when you willingly claim him on national television. The media may be shady as fuck, but I’m pretty sure even they can’t figure out how to out someone who does it herself first. And how perfect is it for you to make the announcement and surprise him at the same time?” She’s obviously put some serious thought into this plan of hers and I can’t deny the surge of excitement as soon as she started talking. I sit up, weak from non-activity and afraid to even think about how bad I must look.
Marcy turns her nose up at me the instant I make eye contact with her. “You need a damn shower, stat. Scalding hot water and two bars of soap, and for fuck’s sakes wash your hair, Ava. It’ll make a world of difference on how you feel and smell.” She rips the covers off me and grabs my calf. “Andddd shave. Yes, let’s do that too. Jesus, I can’t have my girl wrapping these cactuses around the waist of a professional quarterback.”
I jerk my leg from her hold and sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m not wrapping my legs around anyone.”
“We’ll see,” she chirps with a knowing grin. “Now get up.”
“Do you really think this is a good idea? What if the media takes off with it?”
“Anyone ever told you that you have an annoyingly bad habit of harping on the same shit over and over? And what if they do? Hold your head high, proud as fuck that you’re happy. The other option, you becoming a permanent lump in this bed for the rest of your life, isn’t gonna fly with me.” She’s right. Now that I’ve spent the last week missing him, replaying every moment we’ve spent together in my mind, I’m furious with myself for putting us both through this.
And suddenly, another terrifying option hits me. Wait, what if he doesn’t want me anymore?” It’s a real possibility, one I certainly couldn’t blame him for. What with all my back and forth, hot and cold mixed signals.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, stop! I know for a fact that he’s still interested.”
“What does that mean?” I stop mid-step only to have her drag me into the bathroom and try to lift my damn shirt off for me.
“Talk while you shower, we need to hurry. Kickoff is in thirty minutes and we’re already going to be late.”
“Alri
ght, alright. Get out, and close the door.” She does as I ask, but I can still hear her opening and slamming drawers, getting the rest of my outfit ready. “What did you mean you know for a fact?” I yell over the running water and jump in under it the second she starts to open the door.
“He just asked me the other day to let him in here… your house, not your bathroom,” she laughs, “so he could talk to you. He was spouting off some crazy shit about applying for some newscaster job so you’d be with him.”
I freeze, shampoo dripping out of the bottle into my already open palm. “He said that?”
“Sure did. But don’t worry, I told him to stop talking stupid and I’d sneak him in the house so he could see you.”
“Why are you just now telling me all of this?” I peek my head out from the door and find her sitting on the toilet, talking to me like she used to when we were teenagers.
“Because I wanted to give you the chance to make a big statement first, on terms you felt comfortable with. He’s done his share of grand gestures, Ava, it’s your turn. Go to him. It’ll prove to him that he never has to question how into the relationship you are again.”
“You just have it all figured out, don’t ya?” I slide back under the water with a new-found urgency.
“Of course I do, and yes, I can fix your life. You, on the other hand, will have hell making mine perfect when it’s your turn.”
I don’t have the time or energy to think about fixing her right now. She’s a damn mess. “If I can’t handle my own matters, why would you possibly want me to try to help you?”
“Because sometimes it’s easier to see the big picture when you’re looking in from the outside. And you may be your own worst enemy, but your approach to things might actually work when applied to my life. Lord knows I’ve proven multiple times that I have no clue what I’m doing. See we’re total opposites, yet identical. I’m a whiz at your stuff while you suck, and you’ll be the same for me.”
I actually get… and agree with what she’s saying, wondering when the hell she grew up on me. I shave and shower in record time, but still need a few more minutes to be ready, so I ask Marcy to turn on the game. I’m still blow drying my hair when Thunder kicks off to start the game.
“They just showed your man on the sideline. He looks tired as fuck and it’s your damn fault! You need to hurry, Ava.”
I pull my hair back into a ponytail and decide to wear the Thunder cap my grandfather gave me years ago. I hope this turns out as smooth as Marcy and Rush seem to think it will, but even if it doesn’t, I’m now prepared and determined to stand strong, right beside Rush in front of as many cameras they want to point at us. I care about him. Hell, I love him. I can say that now without fear of rejection because he’s said it first.
“Holy shit, Marcy. I’m in love,” I blurt out my epiphany.
“No shit, Sherlock. It’s about time you admitted it.”
“You’re so mean to me,” I tease her as I pull the jersey down over my head. His jersey. If this doesn’t make a statement, nothing will.
RUSH
My parents are here, so I’m trying like hell to keep my head in the game, but honestly I’m not thinking clearly at all. I should’ve gone to see her yesterday like I wanted to, but Marcy was adamant about me waiting. And even though I hated to do it, I agreed to give it a few more days. Waiting isn’t my style, and I’m done doing it… right after this game. I need to see Ava, and if that means I have to drive through her fucking gate and beat her security team’s ass, that’s exactly what’ll be happening.
The hike is perfect, as is my throw to Pierce, who makes the catch look easy. We hit the huddle and I guess I’m moving too slow for Ty’s liking.
“Move asshole. Where are you tonight?” he snarls as he shoulder-checks me.
“I hit Pierce right in the damn chest. What the fuck’s your deal?”
“I’m the receiver on Quick Slant. Wrong play, dumbass.”
I look to Pierce and he nods in agreement. “Fuck. I’m coming to you, this time Ty. Take it to the end zone.” I need a damn minute here… but the ticking play clock says I don’t have one. Luckily, this all comes as second nature to me by now, so surely I can manage the actual play called this time.
We line up and center snaps the ball right in my hands, laces up. I look downfield, Ty’s wide open, so I send the ball sailing straight into his hands. He takes off running like the wind and crosses the goal line for six. The roar of the stadium hits me deep in the chest, almost reminding me to take a deep breath and enjoy it.
It’s as I’m walking back to the sideline that I see her. Ava’s standing in the VIP box, wearing my jersey, with my parents. How the fuck am I supposed to keep from running to her and pulling her into my arms when I’ve been deprived of the feel of her touch for a week now? I miss her so goddamn bad it will kill me if she’s just fucking with my mind again.
“Nice play, Riggins. But at halftime I want you to go handle your business and either come back here ready to fucking kill it, or don’t come back at all. This half-assed shit isn’t gonna cut it.”
“Excuse me, Coach?”
“You heard me. There’s thirty seconds left. Go ahead and take off now. I see her up there, in your jersey; I’m not an idiot, son. I’ve watched you drag ass for a week; go fix it,” he orders, looking out to the field as he dismisses me with a wave of his hand.
I could stand here and try to deny it, but I’m not wasting any time when I have the green light to go to see her. I push through all the players and run down the seemingly never-ending hall that leads me to the elevator I need. I’m wringing my hands together when the doors open and there she stands… looking just as nervous.
I arch my brows and smile at her, all it takes to have her rushing into my arms, crashing her lips against mine. Walking us back into the elevator, I close my eyes as my hands remember what she feels like… everywhere. Her hold on me is awkward, since I’m in game pads, but I don’t care. She’s fucking mine and that’s all I need, in life, and to finish this game with a victory.
“Rush,” she tears her mouth away and pants, “I don’t want you to stop playing. You love football, we’ll work it out. Together, we’ll handle the media and turn it into a good thing. This past week has been excruciating. I want you, Rush. I want us.” She sounds as desperate as I feel and that makes me the happiest man alive. “I love you Rush Riggins.”
I still can’t speak, but my huge smile has to be telling her everything she needs to know if my rough kiss doesn’t.
I take her mouth again, trying to find my words. “I love you too, Ava, and fuck if you’re not making my dick rock hard with your heavy breathing and groping.” I lean back to see her face, caress her cheek, my hips still pinning her against the wall of the elevator when it begins to move.
“Good. I want you to keep those thoughts for when you take me home with you tonight,” she rasps, gliding a hand up my chest before reaching around me to push the button to take us to the third level.
“Babe,” I groan, my head drooping down… toward my blue balls. “My parents are staying in my house.”
“Mine it is then. I have big plans for you tonight and you won’t want your mama hearing.”
Epilogue
AVA
It’s been two weeks since I wore his jersey to the game. And it’s been two weeks since I’ve spent a night alone. We’re always together and the media is having a field day with it. We’ve attended several charity events, purposely getting me more involved in the community, which is what I enjoy. It’s something I wanted to do from the start, but Rush distracted me.
“You want to walk to the shower willingly, or should I carry you over my shoulder?” Rush asks as he walks in naked, the water already running and his hair a sexy mess from my fingers running through it earlier. Let’s just say it makes a great grip to keep his head right where I want it while I ride his face.
“Hmmm, I’ll walk. Besides, I’m wearing clothes. Have to fix that.
” I toss him a sassy smile over my shoulder as I stride past him, shedding an item every few steps and dropping it… leaving him a trail to follow. I can feel him stalking behind me as I wait for him to get impatient and scoop me up in his arms. He doesn’t disappoint, grabbing me when I step through the bathroom door.
He spins me around until I’m facing him, before lifting me over his shoulder. In the perfect position to do so, I slap his bare ass, then he sets me to my feet in the shower and wastes no time devouring every inch of my body. It’s what we do. We’re playful, insatiable and all over each other… all the time.
I’m not naïve, thinking it’ll always be like this, but it is now and I fully intend to enjoy every second of it for as long as I can. The only regret I have is waiting a week to go back to him… yet sometimes I wonder if maybe I needed that time to fully realize and appreciate what I had. They say you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. I can now personally verify the accuracy of that.
Rush Riggins is the love of my life. And I have no doubt he loves me too; I can see it in the way he looks at me and feel it in the way he touches me.
“Don’t think I forgot, Ava. Which house?” He stops kissing me long enough to gaze in my eyes, waiting for a response. He’s been begging me to move in with him, but I’ve been holding off until I could gauge how the news of “us” played out with the public. Now that it’s all going so well, I don’t see any reason why we should have two places, especially since we’re never apart.
“Mine. I can’t sell my grandfather’s mansion.”
“Perfect, I’ll move my stuff in tomorrow.”