by J. Nathan
“That’s the point. I want to continue having fun.”
Her mouth parted then closed, like she didn’t know what to say.
Damn straight she didn’t.
I pulled out enough cash to cover the check and tossed it down on the table. Then leaned across the table and lowered my voice. “I think you’re forgetting just how much fun we have together. But don’t worry. I’m up for reminding you.” Given the fearful look in her eyes as I stood and grabbed her hand, she was both afraid and turned on. “When I’m back at school, I want you to remember every second we were together.”
Her cheeks flushed as I pulled her to her feet. In her hot heels, she was almost my height. We walked out of the restaurant and stepped onto the sidewalk. It was a gorgeous night and the tiny white lights in the trees lining the street made it appear as if it had been staged for our first date.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said.
“You don’t have to—”
“Marin?” a woman called.
Both our heads twisted over our shoulders.
An older couple strolled toward us. Marin tried to drop my hand which only made me hold on tighter. The woman’s gaze took us in, appraising us with curious eyes before focusing on our conjoined hands. “I thought that was you,” the woman said, her eyes lifting to Marin’s.
“Hi, Susan.” Marin smiled warmly, her gaze shifting to the man. “James.”
James looked to me, studying me with narrowed eyes.
I reached out my free hand. “Trace Forester.”
“Bama’s wide receiver?”
“The one and only,” I assured him as he eagerly shook my hand.
Susan’s eyes lit up as she drank me in. “You’re even bigger in person.”
“That’s what Marin said, too,” I said, unable to contain my grin as Marin’s mouth dropped open.
“I was going to ask how you and your son were doing,” Susan said to Marin. “But it looks like you’re doing just fine.”
“Oh, she definitely is,” I answered for her.
Marin’s cheeks flushed, and I had a feeling she wanted to haul off and whack me.
“Well, it was nice to see you both,” Marin said, her hand squeezing mine in a death grip.
“Yeah, nice to meet you,” I added, my eyes jumping between them. “Gotta get my date home.”
“Good night,” Marin said, as she pulled me away. Once they were out of earshot, I burst out laughing. Marin shoved me. “You have no boundaries, do you?”
“I thought that’s what you like about me?”
“James is one of the partners at Charles’ law firm.”
“So?”
Marin sighed. “So it’s only a matter of time before Charles finds out.”
“Finds out what?” I stopped at my truck parked on the side of the street, wanting nothing more than for Marin to articulate what was going on between us.
She cocked her head, remaining tight-lipped.
I backed her into the passenger door and braced my hands on the window on either side of her head. “Who cares if he finds out?”
“I don’t want to add any fuel to Charles’ fire. I can’t lose CJ.”
“I dare him to try anything.”
She stared into my eyes, hers narrowing in contemplation. “Why is it I believe you?”
“Because with me, you always get the truth.” I leaned in and covered her mouth with mine, loving the way she always relaxed into me, like it was the only place she truly felt safe.
Marin
Pounding on the front door sent Trace and me shooting up from my bed. Disoriented, my eyes flashed around the dark room. My alarm clock read two in the morning. I grabbed Trace’s shirt that was strewn across the bedside lamp and pulled it over my head. I jumped out of bed, leaving him to grab his boxers from the floor and pull them on.
The pounding intensified.
“Wait, Marin. Let me.” Trace rushed by me, down the stairs, and to the front door.
“Marin, open the fucking door!” Charles yelled from outside.
Trace’s eyes flared as he yanked open the door and stepped onto the steps, unconcerned that he only wore boxers. I moved into the doorway behind him, his shirt I’d thrown on hanging down to my thighs.
“What the fuck is this?” Charles’ face contorted as his eyes jumped between us.
“What’s it matter to you?” Trace challenged.
“This is my house.”
“Where’s CJ, Charles?” I asked.
“With my parents,” he spat, stepping closer toward us, his hazy gaze and abrasiveness an indicator he’d been drinking.
“Dude, you’re gonna need to take a step back.”
“Dude?” Charles’ eyes jumped to me. “You’re fucking a God damned kid, Marin. Is that what it’s come to?”
Trace cracked his neck from side to side, apparently ready to take Charles out. “I’m gonna say it again. You’re gonna need to step the fuck back and stop speaking to her like that. Better yet, don’t speak to her at all.”
“Did you talk to James?” I asked him.
Charles’ face scrunched. “James?”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“I’m here because this is my fucking house. And you’re my fucking wife.”
Trace stepped forward.
Knowing he could’ve leveled Charles with a single blow, I moved to him, grabbing onto his arm to let him know it’s not what I wanted. At least at that moment. Four months ago at the Mercury Hotel would’ve been a different story.
That’s when it hit me.
That’s when it all made sense.
“Did she break up with you?” I asked Charles.
Charles’ eyes shot away.
Son of a bitch.
“The papers have been filed, Charles. Whether you’re with her or not, we’re over.”
He lifted his chin toward Trace. “Because of him?”
A disapproving laugh shot out of me. “Because of you. Because of what you did. I know what I deserve now. Somewhere along the way I think I forgot.”
Despite a drunken Charles standing there, Trace wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into him, dropping a kiss to the crown of my head.
“Don’t forget who pays this mortgage,” Charles warned. “I can have the police here in five minutes.”
“For what, Charles? What have I done wrong?” I asked.
He stared back at me, his blank gaze a stark reminder of the emptiness behind his eyes and the unhappiness I felt with him in my life.
“If you want the house, take it up with the lawyers. Then, once everything’s official, CJ and I will leave. For now, go home. Be at your parents’ when CJ wakes up and spend time with him. He deserves that.”
“Come on,” Trace said.
I nodded as he turned me into the house and closed the door behind us.
Trace pulled me into a hug and stared down at me. “You did good out there.”
“I meant what I said. I know what I deserve.”
Trace’s lips slipped into a cocky grin. “Damn straight you do.”
Distracting me from the sound of Charles’ car peeling out of the driveway, Trace captured my lips, before lifting me off my feet and carrying me upstairs.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AUGUST
Marin
From the spot on my blanket at the far end of the beach, I watched surfers trying to catch a wave. Sunbathers absorbing the mid-afternoon sun. The volleyball players diving into the sand making save after save. It was a picturesque day, and all I wanted to do was take it all in. Soon, CJ would be starting in school, Trace would be back on campus, and I’d be busy with my own school and job.
“Hey, Mom,” CJ called as he ran toward me soaked, his legs covered in the sand he kicked up. Much to my relief, he’d returned a week after Charles’ late night visit. And he was still the same amazing kid, unchanged by his prick of a father.
“Have fun?” I asked.
“Yeah
,” CJ said as he dropped to the sand a few feet in front of my blanket and began digging with the shovel and sifter he’d left there earlier.
Trace approached, having walked up from the water instead of ran. And though he was just as soaked as CJ and his feet were covered with sand, it was his body that had every woman and girl in a fifty foot radius following his strides back to our blanket. I wasn’t blind. I noticed the looks he received everywhere we went, but I ignored it because he did. The great thing about him was whenever we were together, his attention was always focused solely on me.
Trace sat down beside me on the blanket, quickly dropping a wet kiss on my lips while CJ was preoccupied. He was always good about not doing anything that would be awkward for CJ. “That was so much fun,” he said.
“What was?” I asked, the salt from his lips lingering on mine.
“Just playing in the water. I haven’t done that in a long time?”
I tipped my head. “You let me go in alone last time we were here,” I said. “Could’ve been a lot of fun if you’d come in.”
He groaned. “Believe me. It took everything in me that night not to come in after you.”
“Maybe we can try that again before you leave.”
His brows lifted. “Is that a promise?”
I shrugged. “Unless you plan on wussing out again,”
He threw back his head and laughed. Then he shook out his wet hair, sending water droplets flying all over me.
I rolled onto my side away from him in laughter.
“You still wanna call me a wuss?” he asked.
I glanced over my shoulder, looking him dead in the eyes. “Wuss.”
His eyes flared. “I assure you, if we end up here again, there’s no chance I’m wussing out.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I teased.
He grinned, standing and moving toward CJ. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to teach my man the proper way to build a sand castle.”
I spent the rest of the day watching the two of them construct a lopsided sand castle. Anyone walking by wouldn’t have known what it was, but CJ was so proud of that castle. He asked me to take pictures of him and Trace in front of it so he could show my parents. And God love him, Trace acted like it was the best thing he’d ever seen.
Trace
“Madison, Wisconsin and...Cheyenne, Wyoming,” CJ said from the backseat of my truck.
“Buddy, you got them all right.” I glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’ve been practicing with Mom,” he boasted.
“That is so cool.”
CJ and I had spent the morning fishing. We hadn’t caught anything, but it didn’t matter. We had a great time talking and enjoying the time together. I pulled into his driveway beside Marin’s car and threw it into park.
“Are you Mom’s boyfriend?” CJ asked.
I killed the engine and turned to look at him. “Would that be a bad thing?”
He shook his head. “No. But the way my dad said it, it sounded bad and I didn’t like it.”
I threw open my door and marched around to CJ’s side. I didn’t think it was possible to hate someone more than I hated his father. I opened his door and unbuckled him. “Well, I’m a boy. And your mom’s my friend. So I guess your dad had it right.”
“Would it be okay if I didn’t call you my boyfriend?” he asked as I helped him down from the truck.
I grabbed his fishing pole from the floor of the backseat and laughed. “Yeah, buddy. No need.”
“Good,” he said with a smile as he took the pole from me. “Because you’re not my boyfriend. You’re my best friend.”
My heart constricted. The kid had a direct line to it. And with each passing day, his presence in my life—and my need for him and Marin in it—was becoming more and more solidified. It just sucked that by evening, I’d be back on campus and two hundred miles away from them. “I think that sounds perfect.”
“Hey,” Marin said.
My eyes shot to the front steps. Holy hell. All I could see were her long legs in her hot little cutoffs. My eyes traveled up and over her tight T-shirt. She’d undoubtedly worn the outfit to remind me of what I’d be leaving behind. “Hey.” I gave her one more purposeful once over, drinking her in since I had no idea when I’d see her in person again for a while.
As I moved toward her, her eyes shifted to the boxes and crates filling the bed of my truck. Sadness swept over her features before she plastered on the fakest smile I’d ever seen. She ticked her head toward her house. “Mind coming inside?”
“Not at all.” How the hell was I gonna get by without these two?
Once we stepped inside, Marin asked CJ to give us a couple minutes. Without the slightest fuss, he took off upstairs. “Sit,” she said, gesturing toward the sofa.
I cocked my head. “Everything okay?”
She nodded, but her eyes said otherwise.
I dropped onto the sofa, surprising her by pulling her down onto my lap. She yelped as I buried my lips in her neck and assaulted her with open-mouthed kisses that made her purr. She somehow extricated my lips and swiveled to face me. She cupped my cheeks between her palms, making sure she had my undivided attention. “While you’re gone, I’ll be right here.” Her words were slow and deliberate. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I laughed. “I know that.”
She shook her head, her eyes serious. “Go to school, play football, and get your degree. I have all the time in the world.”
Her words took me aback. “I plan to.”
“Good. Then just promise me you’ll have fun.”
I scoffed. “You might need to define ‘fun.’”
She smiled. “Within reason.” Her lightheartedness quickly disappeared and her eyes became focused and serious again. “And if for some reason you find someone who does it for you more than me—”
My lips stole the rest of her words. Her ridiculous yet vulnerable words. Was that what this was about? Was she worried I’d fuck around? Was she worried I’d abandon her too? When I pulled back, she was breathless and dazed, just the way I wanted her. My words were just as slow and deliberate as hers. “You do it for me.”
She tilted her head. “I just wanted it said.”
“Well, you said it.”
Her eyes drifted from mine as her hands slipped from my cheeks.
“Hey. Look at me.”
She did.
“We’re gonna be okay. I want you and CJ in my life. No distance is gonna change that.”
She forced a smile.
The true scope of what I was doing by leaving lay in her eyes and unspoken words. I was making her question everything between us. I was making her worry I wouldn’t return. I was making her fear I wouldn’t be faithful. “Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”
She shook her head.
“Then how can I make it clear I’ll be back?”
Her lips twisted as she shrugged. “Just come back.”
I nodded. “Deal.”
“And give me your shirt.”
My nose wrinkled. “What shirt?”
She pinched the front of the plain white T-shirt I wore. “This one.”
I grinned. “Why?”
“Because I want to sleep in it,” she said matter-of-factly.
Without a word, I reached behind my head and tugged the shirt off, handing it to her.
She snatched it from me and brought it to her nose. “Oh, good. It smells like you.”
I leaned in and kissed her, hoping to alleviate her fears. “I’ll call you tonight. How do you feel about phone sex?”
She laughed. “Never tried it.”
My lips slipped into a cocky grin. “Oh, we’re gonna have some fun.”
She laughed before I kissed her again, wanting to leave her with absolutely no doubt that I’d be back for her soon.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Trace
“I barely heard from you this summer,” C
aden said.
I glanced to him sitting beside me at the bar at our favorite off-campus hangout—the only one that took my fake ID. The team returned weeks before classes began, so the bar was dead. And given the flood of females who usually showed up, especially once word got out my quarterback roommate and I were there, it was great to have the place to ourselves. “I was busy,” I said, lifting my bottle of beer to my mouth. Once the season started, I kept my drinking to a minimum. But since it was Friday night and the first time all week Caden and I weren’t exhausted after a grueling practice in the hundred degree heat, I was indulging.
“You make a lot of cash at the beach?” Caden asked, his eyes on the television watching preseason college football analysis and spotlights.
“The usual.”
Caden’s phone vibrated on the bar. His girlfriend Finlay’s name lit up the screen.
My eyes moved back to the television as he answered the call. A clip of one of my catches from last season filled the screen. I watched it, mesmerized by my own skills.
When I was out on the field, it all came naturally. Running. Catching. Being in the right spot on the field to make the big catch. I loved football. I breathed football. I could see myself doing it for a very long time. It’s why at the end of the season, I planned to declare myself eligible for the draft. I could’ve gone this year, but in my heart, I knew I needed college under my belt. And just like Caden who’d stuck around for his senior year, I wanted to continue playing for an outstanding coach while improving my stats and breaking a few more records. Then, after I’d accomplished all that, I’d go pro.
“I fucking loved that play,” Caden said as he hung up with Finlay and caught the tail end of my catch.
I shrugged. “I’m awesome. What can I say?”
“You do realize I threw you that ball?”
I loved busting Caden’s balls. “You were there?”
He shoved me, practically knocking me off my stool. “Fuck you.”
We laughed before settling in and watching some of the opponents we’d face during the season get their spotlights. There’d be some stiff competition, but we had a great team—if our offensive line got their asses in shape. They always started the season slow. And this season would make it or break it for me. A losing team didn’t get the same attention the better teams got. And if our offensive line sucked and Caden couldn’t get me the ball, I could kiss the pros goodbye.