Hope for Him (Hope Series Book #2)

by Sydney Aaliyah Michelle

  I missed him every day, and I didn't think I could share that with Carrington. I needed to reconcile my feelings about him because I would be the only one who could tell Jack his father wasn't a complete fuck up.

  I experienced a calm I hadn't felt in a few weeks. I welcomed it because I needed to move on with my life. I had an amazing future planned, and I held out hope that Carrington and Jack would be a part of it.

  We both needed time on our own so we could be what each other needed when the time came.

  It wasn't going to be easy, but nothing worth having ever was.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  "You want to know what he said?" Kayla asked.

  I found Kayla stretched out on the couch flipping through her phone as I walked in. I didn't even have a chance to set my bag down. He must have told her something good.

  "Where's Jack?"

  "He's in bed. He passed out after we got back." She handed me her phone. "I've got photos."

  I tossed it back at her. "Email them to me."

  I didn't want to see him happy, even if it was for the benefit of my son. She frowned and stuffed the phone in her bag by her feet.

  My final exam took my mind off Jack seeing Jackson, sort of. My good deed done for the year, all I needed was to finish packing and get the heck out of Tallahassee for winter break. By the time I returned in January, Jackson Latre Mitchell would be gone.

  "So, do you want to know?"

  "No, I don't want to know." I collapsed on the couch. "I didn't want to know before you left, and I don't want to know now."

  "Carrington?"

  "Kayla."

  "You are so fucking stubborn." She stared, her arms crossed over her chest and her foot bounced on her leg.

  "He told you what happened?"

  "Yes."

  "And obviously you took his side and think I'm being ridiculous."

  "Don't put words in my mouth." She dropped her arm. "I'm not taking his side, but I do think you’re being ridiculous."

  "He cheated on Tiffany with me."

  "So, he had sex with you when it wasn't supposed to mean anything."

  "But, it meant everything."

  "Yes, but you didn't know that until after the fact."

  She had a point. We did not plan to sleep together. That one night changed the whole dynamic of our relationship. I shook my head. It was amazing, but it's not like we found a cure for cancer.

  "But ..." I had no response.

  "See, I'm right, right?"

  "Shut up, Kayla." It was my turn to cross my arms over my chest. I wasn't ready to let go of this. No matter how unworkable my verbal rationalization had become, my heart had broken into a million pieces and the cause of that was Jackson, right?

  "Carrington." She scooted close and put her arms around my shoulders. "I'm not saying you should get back together with him today or tomorrow but don't shut down the possibility altogether. Not yet."

  "What did he say?"

  "You know what. I'm not going to tell you. You’re going to have to find out for yourself."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Yes. I'm going to ask you one question and then I'll drop it, okay?"

  "Okay?"

  "You ready."

  "Kayla!"

  "Okay! Can you truly picture your life and Jack's life without Jackson?"

  I turned away.

  "That's what I thought." She grabbed her bag. "You have to talk to him."

  "No, I don't. Listen, maybe I can't picture life without him, but right now this is how it's going to be."

  She shook her head at me.

  "It's the same as you and Jamie. We aren't ready for each other now, but who knows what the future holds."

  "Yeah, well let me clue you in on one major flaw with that plan."

  "What?"

  "What happens if they meet someone else?"

  I clutched my chest and closed my eyes. I took deep breaths and opened them to find Kayla watching me.

  "You okay?"

  I nodded.

  She stood up and headed for the door. I stared after her with my brow scrunched wondering why she dropped that last bit of oh, so helpful information.

  "What time does Mr. Griffin get here?" Kayla asked.

  "He said he was going to try to get in around eleven, and I told him I wanted to get out of here tomorrow. Brunch at twelve and hopefully leave by three."

  "I'll be back in the morning for the festivities."

  "Okay."

  She started to leave, but turned back to me.

  “Can I say one more thing?”

  “Sure.”

  “You know, this isn’t just about you. Jack loves Jackson. Don’t cut Jackson out of his life because you’re mad at him.”

  I started to protest, but she turned and walked away.

  I had nothing to say; she was right.

  Mr. Griffin wanted to spend Christmas with Jack, but he also got an invitation from Amanda to spend Christmas with her. I wasn't ready to let Mr. Griffin take Jack. I wasn't sure if I would ever be ready for that, but we compromised and planned an early Christmas brunch in Tallahassee. Mr. Griffin wanted to thank me for helping to bring his family back together. I didn't do anything, but I was happy they were working things out. Someone would be having a happy Christmas.

  I peeked in on Jack sprawled out on his stomach with his thumb in his mouth. His rhythmic breathing made his little body rise and fall. I brushed the hair away from his face and bent down and kissed him. He smelled like grass and the outdoors. It reminded me of Jackson.

  I headed into my room, and my phone beeped. I picked it up and opened a message from Kayla.

  The first photo showed Jack smiling and running with his little legs in midair and his hands out to his side. The second picture showed another figure kneeling down as Jack approached. The third photo showed the pure joy on my son’s face when he jumped into Jackson’s arms. My heart flipped. A couple of other photos showed Jack and Jackson playing football, and true to form, when I thought it was done and I handled it all, Kayla added a video for good measure.

  "Hey Jack, can you catch it." Jackson's voice came out the speaker, but I couldn't see him. The frame had Jack in it looking wide-eyed and excited. "Okay, here we go."

  The ball entered the frame at Jack's level and he wrapped his hands around it and squealed with delight when it settled in his arms. I laughed as tears fell down my cheeks.

  "Alright. That's my little Jack," Jackson said.

  Jackson entered the frame and scooped Jack up and together they jogged into the end zone. Jack had his hands up in the air, dropped the ball, and screamed, "Touchdown."

  "Touchdown," Jackson said.

  They fell on the ground in a giggling fit and Jackson held Jack up, brought him to his chest, and rubbed his back. Jack snuggled up with him like he always did.

  Again, with the aching uterus.

  I crawled into bed and watched the video again and cried. I missed him so much, but what broke my heart more was that I knew that Jack was going to miss him, too.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Five Months Later

  Jackson Latre Mitchell

  I arrived in New York three days before the draft. In the last three months, I conducted about four million hours’ worth of interviews and press conferences. I was tired of talking about myself, but the draft was the end and the beginning.

  I experienced a little bit of the celebrity life in high school and college, but nothing compared to how people treated me now. Everyone wanted a piece of me. I admit, I didn't hate it, but I could see how it would get old real quick.

  This was my third trip to New York in the last few months. The Heisman trip was fun. I knew I wouldn't win so there was no pressure. I came out for a week last month to attend a rookie seminar sponsored by my agent. They had six athletes projected to go in the draft. I was ranked highest, but in the seminar, we were guys on the same team. I was projected t
o go in the top ten. It would be either San Diego or Miami. I didn't care either way. I wanted to play football.

  I delivered that line each interview. I got pretty good at saying it. I got good at saying and doing a lot of things I didn't feel, but it was part of the price I paid to achieve my dream. I was an hour away from being a professional football player.

  I straightened my garnet tie and smiled. Carrington had sent it to me as a gift and told me to save it to wear at the draft over a year ago. Everyone thought I would come out early but not Carrington. I reflected on the year we had, and I wished I had come out early. Maybe if I had, things would have turned out different.

  "With the first pick in the 2014 draft, the Chicago Bears select Damon Dickson, running back from Clemson," Commissioner Goodell said.

  The crowd erupted at the expected pick. Damon had been a solid four-year back at Alabama, durable and fast, National Champion MVP, and Heisman Trophy winner. He came over and shook my hand before heading on stage. The guy was a class act.

  "The Miami Dolphins are on the clock."

  My cell phone sat in the middle of the table. The coveted cell phone where the team would call and tell you they were going pick you before the commissioner announced it. It made for a dramatic few minutes. I watched the phone. It didn't ring.

  My mom and dad sat on the other side of the table and watched the phone, too. It was a weird feeling, even though I had no reason to think it wouldn't happen. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous.

  "You good?" Michael asked. Michael Murphy was my agent and the head of Murphy Agency. I was courted by every major agency and choose Michael for a strange reason. I walked into a conference room reserved at my hotel room a few months ago when I was in New York for the Heisman. He crossed the room, shook my hand, and asked me about my mom and dad.

  He told me about meeting my father when he was ten years old. My dad spent a few minutes talking to him and he never forgot it.

  He dreamed of being an NFL quarterback, but his athletic ability and his size didn't allow him to fulfill his dream. He loved the game and needed to be around it, all from meeting my father.

  He said something else that surprised the hell out of me.

  "I'm sorry to hear about your friend, Josh. It must have been hard to do what you did and deal with that."

  My eyes watered and I leaned over and put my arms on my knees, trying to maintain control. He put a hand on my shoulder.

  "You know, Jackson, I want to work with you. I think I can learn a lot about leadership from a guy like you."

  No other agency approached the subject.

  He might have been full of shit, but I was sold. We became friends, and he guided my professional life as if it were his own.

  "With the second pick in the 2014 draft, the Miami Dolphins select David Cochran, defensive lineman from University of Miami," Commissioner Goodell said.

  That was a good pick for them. They were ranked last in the defense last year. If you couldn’t stop the ball, there was no point in drafting someone who could throw the ball. Defense won championships.

  "Dallas is on the clock."

  I sat back and took the phone in my hand. Dallas didn't need a quarterback. I relaxed for a minute. I clicked through my phone and found a video that I received yesterday. It was from Jack.

  "Hi, Jackson." His little hand waved at the camera, and I heard Kayla’s voice off camera telling him what to say next.

  "Good luck," Jack said and giggled and tried to grab the phone.

  "Good luck with the draft," Kayla said.

  "Draft," he said figuring I'd get the point.

  Kayla sent me photos and videos every few weeks, and when I was on campus for pro day, Jack came and we got to spend time together.

  I asked about Carrington every time and got the same answer in return. She wasn't ready to speak to me. Hearing it broke my heart each and every time; I didn't expect any different, but it still hurt.

  Two more draft picks were made and then San Diego was on the clock.

  I sat the phone in the middle of the table and as soon as I set it down, it rang.

  I grinned and my knee bounced up and down. The number flashed a two-four-five area code. I knew that area code. It was San Diego, California.

  "Hello," I said. Michael had his arm around my shoulder. I swore he was more excited than me.

  "Jackson Mitchell, this is Coach. How the hell are you?"

  "Hi, Coach. I'm better now."

  "So, you ready to check out the West Coast for a while."

  "Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific. Sounds like a good move."

  "Great, well straighten your tie. You're up. See you tonight."

  The phone went dead and the commissioner came to the podium

  "With the fifth pick in the 2014 NFL draft. The San Diego Chargers pick Jackson Mitchell, quarterback from Florida State University."

  The crowd was deafening, and I couldn't hear a thing. I hugged Michael and my dad pulled me in his arms and gave me a bear hug. My mom kissed my cheek and both my brothers high fived me and then kissed my cheeks. They loved to embarrass me.

  I headed on stage, grabbing my San Diego hat as I walked out. I put a nice little shape in the bill before placing it over my head. I approached Commissioner Goddell, and he had a San Diego Chargers jersey with a number nine on it and my name across the back.

  We both grabbed an end and took photos. As the flash bulb went off, I bit my lip. This moment was how I had imagined it. It was perfect. Well, almost perfect. I wished Carrington were here to enjoy the experience with me.

  #

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  I skipped my late class on Thursday—I wanted to get home and watch the NFL draft coverage. Modern technology allowed me to keep track of Jackson. The NFL Combine followed him and a few players around for training and the event. NFL pro day at FSU streamed online live. Every night, the NFL network mentioned his name at least once a day and featured a segment on him and his fellow first-round prospects at least once a week. I could do a Google search and never finish going through the recent interviews and press conferences. He created a website, and it tracked his movement like he had a chip under his skin: Orlando, New Orleans, San Diego, Miami, and Tallahassee. He must be exhausted.

  Kayla warned me my cyberstalking was weird, but I convinced myself it was harmless.

  I made snacks, and we gathered around the television waiting to see where Jackson would be drafted. When I saw him on the red carpet, walking into Radio City Music Hall, my heart dropped. His hair was cut short and his blue eyes sparkled under the lights. He wore a gray suit and a stark white shirt with a silk tie in the deepest garnet. My heart was in my throat when I noticed his tie. I gave it to him for Christmas two years ago and told him to save it for the draft.

  "Here we have first round prospect from Florida State, Jackson Mitchell. Jackson is slated to be the first quarterback off the board."

  "Hi, Steve." Jackson shook the former running back turned announcer's hand and grinned from ear to ear. It made me smile. I was happy he was enjoying himself.

  "Jackson, how you feeling tonight?"

  "Oh man, Steve. Honestly, I'm taking it all in. I've dreamed about this day all my life, but it's way better than I imagined.”

  "So, where do you think you’re going to go tonight?" Steve asked.

  Jackson paused and stared into the camera, his brow scrunched as if he was thinking about the answer.

  "You know, Steve, I have no preference; I'm just waiting for the Commissioner to tell me where I'm going. I'm ready to play football."

  Jackson's answer seemed so sincere and heartfelt.

  "Have a great night and next time we talk, you'll be part of the fraternity, man."

  "Thanks, Steve." They shook hands and Jackson walked off camera.

  Over the course of the show, the camera captured him in the green room sitting at a round table with his family. His mom and dad beamed; they were so proud. His older brothers sat a
round him along with another gentleman who I knew from my stalking was his agent. I'd seen him in a photo during one of my Internet stalking sessions. He whispered in Jackson's ear and Jackson smiled.

  It hurt to have missed all these moments. I would have loved to see him at his workout in person. I admitted I was jealous I didn't get to walk the red carpet on his arm. This was a major moment for him, and I wasn't a part of it. It was hard to believe, the man who had my heart, was having the most important day of his life, and I was back in Tallahassee trying to make sure Jack didn't get Cheetos residue all over the couch.

  I knew this was my fault, but I reminded myself Jackson was the one who walked out. I almost convinced myself when I yelled it in my head loud enough.

  Once Jackson left, I powered through exams and headed back home to Dallas for winter break. The holiday was a whirlwind, and my parents used every moment of the time to spoil Jack and me. They missed seeing their grandson every day.

  When I made it back to campus, it hit me. Every tree, every building, every open area reminded me. I had no chance of running into Jackson; he no longer went to school here. God, I missed him.

  I saw Tiffany, all the time. She had a new boyfriend by February. He played tennis and she introduced him one day when I was sitting alone in the Student Union having a late lunch between classes.

  She asked me about Jackson, and I told her he was fine. He was, as far as I knew. I preferred to leave her in ignorant bliss. It unnerved me to discover we had more in common than I cared to admit. Jackson left me, too.

  The first four draft picks were off the clock. Jackson sat in a room off the stage, looking at his phone. The network must have known something he didn't because as soon as he set his phone down, it rang. The cameraman caught it all. He said a few words, but when the huge grin spread across his face, I knew this was it. It was happening for him. He wiped his eyes as Commissioner Goodell announced his name.

  "With the fifth pick in the 2014 NFL draft, the San Diego Chargers pick Jackson Mitchell, quarterback from Florida State University."

  Kayla and Jack clapped and pointed at the screen laughing.

  I sat and watched. I didn't want to miss a thing.