by J. Nathan
* * *
The subtle chill of the unseasonably cool October air brushed against my face as I sat on my front steps. I needed a break from studying before it was time to pick up CJ from school.
My next door neighbor, Felicia, walked up my walkway. “Hey.”
“Hey, stranger,” I said.
She laughed, her smile as radiant as on her wedding day. “How is it that we live next door to one another and we haven’t seen each other since my wedding?”
I laughed. “Well, maybe because you’re a world traveler.”
“I’ve been back for months.”
“Then maybe it’s because I have a kindergartener who needs a chauffeur to and from school and football and I’m back in school and got a job.”
“No way. That’s great. I guess I’ve missed a lot.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m trying to do it all and it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”
“It definitely is,” she said, before pausing. “So...is there anything else I missed? Anything else you want to tell me?”
My eyes cut to hers, my brows slanted. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Anything having to do with that hot football player we both know?”
My eyes glided away; even the mention of him hurt. “Not really.”
“Not really?” she said, dropping down beside me on the steps. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
I pulled in a deep breath. “Okay. We kinda had a little thing.”
She screeched. “You and Trace Forester?” She dropped her head back and moaned. “Oh my God! He’s so damn hot.”
“I know.”
“I already told Seamus he’s my hall pass.”
I laughed, understanding the attraction. Everything about Trace was sexy. And Felicia had never seen him behind closed doors like I had.
“Obviously, the hall pass thing is null and void now that you two—” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. You had a thing? As in past tense?”
I nodded.
“What happened?”
“He went back to school.”
Disbelief shone in her eyes. “That bastard. Didn’t he know what you’d been through?”
“That bitch. I’m the one who ended it.”
Her jaw dropped. “Why?”
“He’s still a teenager.”
“So? You’re only in your twenties,” she countered.
“He has his whole life ahead of him.”
“So?”
“He needs to experience life,” I explained.
She cocked her head. “Come on, Marin. You don’t sound even the least bit convincing.”
I huffed my frustration before unloading all the craziness that was my life on her.
Trace
I lay on my bed watching game tapes for our upcoming game against Georgia, trying to focus on anything but Marin and CJ. Seeing them had thrown me off my game. I’d been trying to move on. Trying to find something other than football to fill the void of them being out of my life. Then they showed up and blew that all to hell.
A soft tapping came from my door.
“Yeah.”
My door cracked open and Finlay poked her head in. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I sat up, turning off my tablet.
She moved toward my desk chair and sat on the edge of it since a few of my shirts hung on the back of it.
“What's up?”
She gnawed on her bottom lip. Oh, man. Something was up. “Last year outside the hotel in Mississippi, you gave me some advice.”
I nodded, remembering the conversation. “My boy was being a stubborn ass.”
“Well, from what Caden tells me, Marin’s being just as stubborn.”
My teeth ground together. “Remind me to never tell him anything again.”
“He cares about you,” she assured me.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t kick his ass for breaking the bro code.”
“Bro code?” She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes, you guys are so lame.”
I placed my tablet on the nightstand, avoiding her eyes while stewing at my roommate for running his mouth.
“You’re a good guy, Forester,” Finlay said, redirecting my thoughts. “You don’t deserve to be hurt.”
I shrugged. “I’m over it.”
“That why you haven’t called Sabrina?”
I glared across the room at her. “You want me screwing around with your friend? Really?”
She released a frustrated breath. “All I’m saying is you’re clearly not over Marin. And it’s obvious she’s not over you either.”
“Yeah, well, it was all her doing.”
“But don’t you get it? She’s hurting. I could see it in the way she looked at you after the game. I’m sure she thought she was doing the right thing by putting you and her son first. But that wasn’t someone happy with her decision. That was someone who was kicking herself.”
“So?”
“So?” Finlay crossed her arms. “When Caden and I split up last year, it wasn’t just him being stubborn, it was me being stubborn too. I could’ve easily explained that he was wrong about me. That his ex-girlfriend had fed him lies. But I let him believe the lies because I was too proud to admit I was hurt that he’d doubted me. He thought he knew me, and he didn’t. Why should I have to explain?”
“I wasn’t too proud to beg Marin not to end it, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Did you tell her she broke your heart? Did you tell her you care about her? Did you tell her you’ll be there for her and her son?”
I nodded. “Basically. It still didn’t matter.”
“Then maybe words aren’t enough. Maybe you need to show her. Prove to her she was wrong. Prove to her she and her son need you.” Finlay stood and walked to my door, glancing back at me. “It might not happen overnight since you’re here and they’re not, but I’m willing to bet, she’s not going anywhere.”
* * *
I stepped onto the bus way too early in the morning with my headphones around my neck, ready for the four and a half hour bus ride to Georgia. We were the primetime game this week and would be playing under the lights. I slipped into a seat halfway down the aisle and shoved my backpack under my seat. Before I could slip my headphones on, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
My mother. Great.
“Hey,” I said into the phone.
“Morning, honey. Getting ready for the trip?”
“Just got on the bus. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. Just checking in. Wanted to wish you luck.”
“You never call to wish me luck,” I said.
“Well, your father and I will be watching.”
“Okay,” I said, skeptically.
“Oh, and...”
Yep. Here it comes.
“The boy’s father is still over there quite a bit. I saw him just yesterday.”
I stared down the aisle as Caden and Finlay made their way to the seats across from me. Caden lifted his chin at me before taking Finlay’s backpack and stuffing it under the seat for her. He was always doing thoughtful things like that. He was definitely a better version of himself with Finlay in his life. I wondered if the same was true for me. Was I better with Marin than I was without her?
“Did you hear me?” my mother repeated.
“Yeah, I heard you. CJ’s dad is over there. Thanks for telling me. I gotta go.” I didn’t even wait for her response before I disconnected the call.
It was as if she couldn’t help herself. As soon as she had information she deemed important, she needed to share it. It was like a sickness. I liked to believe her telling me about Marin was because she didn’t want to see me hurt. I just wished she realized she was hurting me by relaying the play by play of Marin’s life when I wasn’t there to do anything about it.
I slipped my headphones over my ears and closed my eyes, ready to get lost in my music. When I woke up, I had a job to do and I intended to wipe the field with Georgia.
> Marin
“I won,” Charles said, scooping the remaining chips from the pile on the dining room table. The bastard couldn’t even let our five-year-old win. It was getting harder and harder to keep up the façade. Harder to not tell him what I really thought of him.
“All right, buddy. Time for bed,” I said, saving CJ from another loss and wanting to get Charles out of my house so I could torture myself and watch Trace’s game which had already begun.
CJ jumped up. “Okay.”
I couldn’t be sure, but he seemed as eager to get away from Charles as I was.
“Say good night to your dad.”
CJ rounded the table and held up his fist to Charles to bump. “Good night.”
Charles slapped his fist with his open palm. “Good night.”
CJ looked to me, amused by the awkward fist bump before he hurried over and threw his little arms around me. “Good night.”
“Head upstairs, brush your teeth, and then call me when you’re done. I’ll come tuck you in.”
“Okay.” And just like that, he ran upstairs and the bathroom faucet switched on.
I stood from the table and gathered the rest of the game pieces, folding up the board and stuffing everything into the rectangular box. Charles didn’t move and it took everything in me not to walk to the door and hold it open until he took the hint.
“Ready, Mom,” CJ called.
“Feel free to see yourself out,” I said to Charles as I moved toward the stairs. “He’ll probably ask me to read to him.”
Charles shrugged. “That’s all right. I can wait.”
I cursed under my breath as I marched up the stairs.
When I walked into CJ’s bedroom, he was tucked under his new sports-themed comforter. “Hey, buddy. You want me to read you a story?”
“That’s okay, Mom. I’m pretty tired.”
Shit.
I leaned down and pulled the blanket back enough to press my lips to his soft cheek. “You sure?”
“Uh, huh,” he said.
“Well, I love you more than the universe.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
When I finally dragged myself downstairs, Charles had moved to the sofa. He held the remote and flipped through the channels. I stopped on the bottom stair and stared at him in my space. He no longer belonged there. He lost that right. And while I may have been allowing him in for CJ, I didn’t have to put up with him when CJ was asleep.
“Hey,” he smiled as he noticed me standing there.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Looking for something for us to watch.”
The hair on the back of my neck prickled. Was he for real? Had he forgotten what he’d done to me? To our family? What he was still doing? God, he was delusional if he thought I was spending another minute with him. “That’s not what I meant.” I moved to the loveseat and sat, facing him with my elbows on my thighs and my hands wringing in front of me. If I didn’t keep speaking, my nerves threatened to betray me. “I need you to stop what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“What you’ve been doing. I’m so sick of worrying about everything I do and say. I’m so sick of worrying that you’ll take my son away. This is no way to live.”
He stood and for a second I thought he was leaving, but he moved beside me. His scent instantly invaded my senses. It was spicy and dated and so him. “I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you.” His hand landed on my thigh, his fingertips trailing softly over my jeans.
I stilled. Warning sirens bellowed in my head as my wide eyes dropped to his hand on me. He’d clearly gone and lost his mind. “You don’t threaten people you love.”
“Remember, that day at the café, Marin?” he continued, completely ignoring my words. “Remember our eyes meeting for the first time. We both felt it. That instant connection.”
My entire face scrunched in disgust. “But now it’s gone.”
“You’re wrong.” He smiled, but everything about it felt forced and insincere—especially now that I’d seen him for the selfish, cheating, bully he was. “I’ve always wanted you. And you’ve always wanted me.” He leaned forward, and had I not leapt from the loveseat, he would’ve kissed me.
“Are you crazy?!” I glared down at him, crossing my arms as if they’d somehow protect me from him. “I don’t want you.”
The lines around his eyes creased.
“I could never want someone who cheated on me then used my son to threaten me. Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
“We hit a bump in the road. Lots of marriages go through things like this.”
I shook my head, trying to clear away the crazy. “This isn’t a bump. This is the end.”
“Says who?” His voice harshened.
“Says me.”
His eyes flared, my unexpected nerve taking him aback and clearly pissing him off. “You sure about that?” he asked, his tone threatening.
“I’ve had it with your threats, Charles. And I’ve had it with you. Life happens.” I threw my hands out to my sides. “And sometimes we just end up with the wrong people. It doesn’t have to destroy us.” I leveled him with my eyes. “Or make us do things we’ll regret.”
He said nothing, just stared at me with narrowed eyes that might have intimidated people in the courtroom, but all I saw was a pathetic man who ruined a good life.
“Go find someone who wants to stay home and have dinner on the table for you when you eventually get home. I’m not that person. I want my degree. I want to work. I want to feel fulfilled.”
His jaw ticked.
“You need someone who’ll cater to your needs and turn a blind eye when you stray.”
“That happened once,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“But that’s the thing. I don’t believe you. And I’ll never believe you. I don’t want to live like that.” My pulse pounded in my temples as I trudged on. “I deserve someone I can trust. Someone who cares about me an only wants me.”
“Like that kid?” he spat.
“This isn’t about Trace.”
Charles balked, and the way he did made me realize he’d never understand what he’d done. How could he not see that Trace had been a savior. Not his competition.
“Trace did nothing wrong. He was there for me when I needed someone. And deep down, I liked who I was with him. He reminded me who the real me was. Who the real me is.”
Charles hands fisted at his sides, his cheeks flaming.
“Please don’t take CJ away from me. I love him more than—”
“The universe?” he said, like it was something vulgar.
I nodded, tears sitting at the ready. “You may hate me, but do what’s right for your son. You’ll always be his dad.”
He pushed himself to his feet. I braced myself, unsure what he’d do now that I’d stood up to him. He walked to the door, glancing back at me once he’d opened it.
I searched his eyes for compassion. Understanding. Regret. But found nothing.
“I hope you’re ready for a battle,” he said, before turning and walking out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
NOVEMBER
Trace
Music blared out of the speakers as I made my way unsteadily down the hallway. By the time midnight hit, I’d had way too much to drink. Half the school had shown up to my house to celebrate. And every time I turned around, someone handed me a shot.
A girl I’d hooked up with sophomore year gave me the same fuck me eyes she’d given me then. “Happy birthday, Forester.”
“Thanks.” I continued down the hall, using the wall for support.
“Happy birthday, Forester,” a few others said in unison as I climbed the steps, needing to take a leak in my bathroom—off limits during parties.
Finlay and Caden’s voices trickled into the hallway as I passed his room. Finlay wasn’t crazy about crowds, so I appreciated Caden throwing me the party in the first place.
Caden’s
door swung open, and Finlay’s sassy roommate Sabrina slipped out, her eyes rounding when she spotted me in the empty hallway. “Hey,” she said, her hips swaying enticingly as she walked toward me. The look in her eyes told me she liked finding me all alone and drunk as hell. “What are you doing up here,” she asked, a big smile on her face.
“Escaping the crowd.” Oh, fuck. I was slurring.
She laughed. “Yeah. I guess this is what it looks like to have half the campus at your house.”
“What can I say? Kissing my teens goodbye is something to be celebrated.” I ticked my head toward my closed door. “Wanna keep me company?”
One of her perfect brows arched. “You never called.”
“And what would a girl like you have done if I had?”
She lifted her shoulder. “I guess you missed your chance to find out.”
I motioned toward my room again. “So, you coming?”
“What if I say no?”
I opened my door, happy to find it unoccupied. “Then I guess you’ll miss your chance to find out what my room really looks like.”
“So all of last year’s Snapchats should be ignored?”
I laughed as she brushed by me and stepped inside my room. Her eyes took in my dark blue walls and big bed in the center of the room. I closed the door and locked us inside. She walked to my bed and dropped down onto the edge. I stood there staring at her, my vision a bit hazy, but not too hazy to realize how damn hot she was. And how fun she was. And how sassy she was.
Fuuuuck. Was I ready for this?
“I’ll be right back,” I said, bolting into my bathroom and pissing for a solid minute. Relieving myself felt so damn good. Would scratching my other itch with Sabrina feel as good? What was I saying? Of course it would.
I washed my hands and stared at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror. Was I that guy anymore? Could I sleep with her with no strings attached? I obviously wasn’t looking for a relationship. Been there. Done that. It was an epic fail.
I turned to the door and reached for one of the two door handles playing tricks with my eyes. Somehow I managed to grasp the actual handle and twist it. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I released the handle and slipped my phone out.
Welcome to your twenties.
Holy shit. I staggered back and dropped down onto the edge of the tub, staring down at the words on my phone. Should I respond? Should I make her wait? Should I ignore it the way she’d ignored my texts? Fuck it. My thumbs pounded away at the screen. Is this a drunk text?