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Second Chance: A Military Football Romance

Page 83

by Claire Adams


  “Brian…” I began.

  “No! Please explain why I watched my best friend die,” he choked on the words and then looked into my eyes and said, “Tell me why, Ava. Tell me why anything I did mattered. Tell me why the sacrifices we all made were required. Tell me, Ava, would you please?”

  I had no answer for him. I had been stunned into silence by his tirade against my involvement with what I had seen as an honest attempt to stop war from happening. I hadn’t really thought about it from the soldiers’ point of view other than to not want any of them to be hurt or killed in the fighting of wars that weren’t of their making.

  “Look, I have no answers,” I said as I reached out and gently touched his arm. Brian shrunk from my touch, but I continued. “All I wanted to do was to stop the needless fighting. I didn’t want people dying - not any people! I thought that if I got involved in the group we could petition our representatives and persuade others to sign the petition requesting that the U.S not get involved in wars that aren’t about freedom or democracy.”

  Brian continued staring at my feet as I spoke. “I have never in my life ever done anything as rude or disrespectful as to protest at a soldier’s funeral, and I never would. I just don’t want people to die, Brian. That’s all. I just don’t want you or anyone you know to die in combat!”

  I stood in front of him, out of breath and emotionally on edge from trying to explain myself. Brian continued staring silently at the floor before he raised his head and looked into my eyes. My heart cracked as I felt the waves of unspoken pain flowing between us. I didn’t want to break the silence, so I held his gaze as he reached out and ran a finger down my cheek before pushing the hair out of my eyes.

  “Ava,” he whispered. “Go get dressed, you’re going to be late to your meeting.”

  *****

  As we walked to the quad and headed for the meeting, I thought about what we’d said to one another and I turned the discussion over and over as I thought about Brian’s misinformed view of the anti-war movement and how much pain it had obviously cost him. I was outraged that anyone claiming to be anti-war would ever dream of being anti-military member, but then I remembered hearing about some Midwestern church group who was using the funerals to promote their hate-filled, anti-gay message.

  I turned and looked for Brian, but he was busy trying to blend in with the Sunday student crowd on the quad. He obviously didn’t want to talk about this with me, so I began formulating a plan. I’d have to run it by the group members, but I thought that once I explained the reasoning behind it, they would definitely agree with me and we could work to end the hateful practice of protesting military funerals.

  Brian stayed outside the room while we discussed ways to take a stand against the groups that were using the funerals to promote their own hateful beliefs. We sketched out a plan on the whiteboard and then assigned group members to begin calling and emailing those we’d identified as allies. We might be a small group, I thought, but we’re mighty in our determination to do the right thing.

  After the meeting, I walked outside and saw Brian sitting on a chair in the lounge area. He was obviously on high alert as he scanned the area, searching for any signs of Dominic. I smiled and waved at him to let him know I was ready to leave. I saw him furrow his brow as he looked past me, but when I spun around to see what had caused it, I saw nothing.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing, I just thought—” he stopped and started intently at the other side of the student lounge, then shook his head and said, “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure!” I chirped. “Do you want to go get some lunch and hear about the plan we came up with?”

  “Do I have a choice?” he grinned.

  “Of course you don’t,” I grinned back. Two could play this little game.

  “Touché!” Brian burst out laughing as we walked to over to Charlie Chang’s for a lunch of bibimbap.

  *****

  “So, tell me about this plan of yours,” Brian said to me with a mouth full of kimchi.

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full!” I laughed as I took a sip of my iced tea before popping a piece of the spicy cabbage in my mouth. Brian laughed at my admonition as the server put two steaming bowls down on the table and asked if there was anything else we needed. I smiled and shook my head.

  “But seriously, tell me what you’ve got up your sleeve, Ava,” he said as he stirred a huge squirt of hot sauce into his lunch.

  “When you said that you associated the anti-war groups with disrespect and meanness, I started thinking about how a small number of protesters are defining the movement in negative terms,” I said as I pulled apart my chopsticks and balanced them carefully in my right hand. Brian watched and shook his head as he pointedly began eating with his fork. “So, I suggested that we address the issue of those people who protest at funerals instead of spending so much time writing letters protesting a war that is already happening.”

  “How do you think you’re going to affect the protestors?” he asked.

  “We don’t think we’re going to affect them, per se,” I replied. “They’re using their protests to accomplish something entirely unrelated to the peace movement. They’re using servicepeople as a mechanism to promote their hatred of people who they feel are eroding moral values. It’s somewhat ironic that they’re religious people, because they seem to have missed the overall point of their own religion.”

  “How so?” Brian asked. “They’re standing up for what they feel is right and they’re protesting against what they feel is wrong, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, but they miss the whole point, love thy neighbor and all, that is what matters, right?” I looked up at him as I explained my take on the situation. I wasn’t sure he was buying it.

  “Okay, I guess I can see your point, but I don’t understand what it is you think you’re going to do about it,” he replied as he brought another forkful of the delicious rice and vegetable combination to his mouth.

  “We don’t think that we can change the people who are protesting, but we do think that we can show those who are not part of the group how damaging the practice is,” I said as I carefully measured my next words. “We think that if we can show how much pain and suffering these groups cause, then we can get average, everyday folks to step in and help stop the practice.”

  “And how do you propose to accomplish this?” he asked.

  “Well…” I took a deep breath and pushed forward. “We thought we could use your story to illustrate the way in which the protestors caused so much pain during the funeral of your friend. We’ve got a couple of members who are journalism majors and they would write articles for the newspaper and a couple of other internet outlets that they write for, and then we thought that we could write letters to the university administration asking them to support our attempts to get the city to stop allowing these folks to protest within a certain distance. We also thought that we could do what other cities have done and ask members of various clubs to come form a human wall around the funerals so that the friends and family members wouldn’t have to even see the protestors.”

  Brian had stopped eating and was staring at me with steely eyes. I casually continued eating as I waited to hear his response to my plan.

  “Absolutely not,” he said quietly. “You will not use my story and you will not bring me into this mess.”

  “But Brian,” I countered. “We could do so much good!”

  “By spewing my pain and suffering out into the world?” he demanded. “You want to use me to make some silly college political statement?”

  “No! That’s not what we’re doing at all!” I cried. “We want to stop these people from causing other people as much pain as they’ve caused you!”

  “By making me the face of all of the crap that’s going to come out about this?” He was angry and hurt, but I couldn’t understand why.

  “But Brian, this is a good idea! We want to stop the protes
ts!” I said as I felt myself becoming more emotional. Couldn’t he see that we wanted to help?

  “You rich kids just don’t get it, do you?” His face grew red as he struggled to keep his voice down and not call attention to our heated argument. “You think that the world is full of like-minded people who have the same opinons you have and that if you just tell people to stop doing whatever you think is unfair, they will.”

  “Now that’s unfair,” I lowered my voice to try and calm him down, but I felt myself getting mad at his judgmental attitude. “We’re not trying to tell anyone how to live their lives, we’re just trying to help you!”

  “Have you ever thought about the fact that maybe I don’t want your help?” Brian asked as he leveled his gaze. “Did you ever ask me what I wanted? No, you did not. That’s because you rich college kids think you know everything that’s best for everyone. You’re so arrogant and privileged that you can’t look beyond your own lives and see that other people don’t live the way you do.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I angrily asked.

  “It has to do with the fact that those people who are protesting have every right to protest, and that if it hurts my poor little feelings, then I need to get over it, okay?” he said in a tone that could only be described as petulant.

  “What in the hell is going on with you?” I was astounded at the rapid shift in our conversation and could not understand why Brian was so angry at me for wanting to spare other service members the pain he’d experienced at his best friend’s funeral.

  “Just leave it alone,” he said as he exited the booth and headed for the door. “I’ll be outside waiting when you’re done.”

  I made no move to stop him as he stalked toward the door and shoved it open with a force that loudly rung the bells looped over the handle. I think if he could have slammed the door behind him, he would have done it.

  *****

  I finished my lunch, paid the bill, and then walked outside. Brian was leaning against the front of the restaurant looking at his phone and furiously typing out something on the screen. As soon as he saw me, he disconnected and shoved the phone in his pocket.

  “Oh, please don’t let me interrupt,” I said in a dry tone. I was mad at him for refusing to even try to see my point of view and for accusing me of being a spoiled rich girl simply because he didn’t agree with me.

  “You didn’t,” he said. “Back to the dorm?”

  “Yes, please,” I replied and began walking. Brian followed about 10 steps behind, and since I was mad, I set a fast pace.

  The whole walk back I silently cursed him for being so stubborn and pigheaded, and by the time we reached the room, I was ready to explode. Instead, I entered the room, leaving the door open, grabbed my Psych book, and flopped down on the bed with the book open to a random page as I continued to fume. Brian entered the room, quietly shut the door and then sat on the couch flipping through his phone in silence.

  “What are you studying?” he asked after a few minutes.

  “None of your damn business!” I snapped.

  “Really? Is that a lesson in psychology?” he asked with a serious expression. “I had no idea that there was a chapter on none of your damn business. What does it say?”

  “It says that it’s none of your damn business!” I shouted. “Now shut up and let me study!”

  “Oh now, that’s just obstinance,” he observed.

  “What are you even talking about?”

  “I’m sure that being educated and all, you know that the root of obstinance is not in achieving some aim in reality, but in establishing a subjective feeling of superiority, right?” he said casually as he continued poking at the screen of his phone.

  “Ha ha. Very funny,” I replied, not at all amused. “Yes, you’re smart. You know things. Now know this: I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

  “Okay, your call,” he said with a shrug. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

  I sat on my bed trying hard to contain the rage that was building inside me, but watching him mess with his phone only made it worse, and after a few minutes, I blew.

  “If you really want to be helpful, then talk to me, darn it!” I shouted. “Don’t just criticize me and then walk away!”

  “What was I supposed to do, Ava?” he asked. “Your father hired me to protect you, so it’s not my place to engage in a political struggle with you about something you know nothing about.”

  “Oh, I see. You can’t engage in a conversation about something that you view as political, but you can have sex with me? That’s okay?” I grilled him, getting angrier by the minute.

  “Yes, actually, that is okay, because having sex with you doesn’t cause me the kind of headache that having a political discussion with you does!” He raised his voice to match mine.

  “Oh, really? Talking with me about something serious gives you a headache?” I hollered as I hopped up off of the bed and crossed the room so that I was standing over him.

  “Actually, it does!” he yelled back as he pushed himself up off the couch and stood glaring back at me.

  “Then why do you keep engaging in conversations with me?” I shouted back. I was trying to control my anger as well as the fact that this argument had aroused me in a way I didn’t know was possible. Brian’s strong will made him even more attractive, and the fact that he stood up to me without using force or violence aroused me.

  “Because…because…” he stuttered angrily as he held my gaze.

  “Because what?” I demanded as I closed the gap between us and stood only inches from him, looking up into his eyes. “C’mon, spit it out, sailor!”

  “Because I can’t stop!” he admitted as he roughly grabbed my waist and pulled me to him. “I can’t stop wanting you, Ava! You drive me crazy with your idealistic views and your academic approach to things, but that makes me want you even more!”

  He bent down and kissed me hard as he crushed my body against his. In an instant, my arms were around his neck, and I was returning the kiss with a fierceness I had never felt before.

  “But you’re so stubborn,” I whispered into his lips as the savage kiss continued. His hands roamed my body, pushing my shirt up before yanking it off to give him access to my bare skin. He quickly pulled the tiny skirt I was wearing down to my knees, letting it pool around my feet, and in seconds, I was nearly naked.

  “It takes one to know one, you know?” he growled as he moved his lips to the base of my neck and not-so-gently nipped at the soft skin.

  “Hey!” I cried before reaching down and grabbing the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up, and exposing his chest so that I could administer a few bites of my own. He cried out as my teeth sank into his smooth flesh, and he quickly grabbed a fistful of my long hair and pulled back, leaving me panting as I looked up at him with a dangerous gleam in my eyes.

  “Oh, so it’s like that, is it?” he grinned as he held tightly to the makeshift leash he’d created, then firmly pulled my head back, leaned down, and forced my lips apart with his tongue. I melted into his hungry kiss as I felt him firmly pulling at the flimsy fabric covering my breasts.

  “Wait,” I cried into his mouth, but before I could reach around and unhook my bra, Brian had let go of my hair and reached into his pocket, pulled out a switchblade, which he quickly flicked open and used to slice through the lace.

  “Oh, yes,” he breathed as he made quick work of the shoulder straps and watched it fall to the floor. “So much better.” He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me to him as his fingers found one of my nipples and began tugging and pinching as he watched my face. I struggled for a moment, but the jolt of electricity that ran from my nipple to my clit made me forget what I was struggling against. I grabbed the sides of his face and tried to pull him back to my lips, but he had other plans, and he smiled as he dipped his head and captured my other nipple between his lips and began sucking and licking.

  A low moan escaped from my lips as Brian bit down on t
he sensitive bud, and I gripped the back of his head and pulled him tightly to my breast. I could feel his fingers snaking down my body and slipping between my thighs, brushing the soaked fabric that barely covered my very wet pussy.

  “Mmmmmm,” he hummed as he sucked harder while caressing the hot, wet valley between my legs until I began pushing back as I urged him to go further.

  “Please? Please? Please?” I begged as he increased the pressure of his strokes while licking and biting my nipple. The combined sensations of pleasure and pain were making me wetter and wetter as he teased me, and he knew this. I looked down and gasped as he pinched one nipple painfully while he gently bathed the other with the flat side of his tongue. I could feel his hand between my legs, teasing as he slowly made his way past the fabric barrier.

  An instant later, I felt him pull his hand back and loop his fingers over the edge of my panties as he tugged them down to my ankles. He lifted his mouth from my breast and ordered, “Step out of them,” before returning his attention to the swollen tips. I stepped out of my panties and felt him tap his hand between my thighs as a signal for me to spread them.

  And I did.

  Brian’s hand lightly brushing up the insides of my thighs nearly made me pass out. It was too much; the pain, the soft pleasure, the want, the need. Unable to form any words, I moaned louder and willed his hand to move higher as I buried my fingers in his hair and held him at my breast. He took his time as he moved upward, teasing and torturing me with his touch; sliding his fingers between the silky folds of my nether lips, and slowly stroking a path from front to back.

  I whimpered as I spread my legs wider and thrust my hips forward as I tried to push his fingers up inside my needy pussy. Brian pulled back from my breast, smiled, and then sank to his knees in front of me. Keeping one hand on my hip, he pushed me backwards until my knees hit the edge of the couch, and then he shoved me just hard enough to force me to sit. In seconds, he’d pushed me back and grabbed my ankles so that he could drape my legs over his shoulders.

 

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