by E Cleveland
“For sure,” he gently tucks her up against his side. “What’s new with my favorite aunt?” Chris nods at me.
“I’m just trying to convince Chelsea to come to the game with us tomorrow,” Lauren looks over at me expectantly.
“You’re gonna come right?” Chris looks down at me. “You gotta go. I’ll look like the crazy one if you’re not there cheering with me. Come on,” he pleads.
How am I supposed to say no to that?
“OK,” I sigh. I pick our empty mugs off the table and walk them over to Lauren’s sink. “I’ll go.” I rinse the mugs out and place them in her drying rack.
“Alright!” Chris yells.
I turn and can’t help but smile at his excitement. I’m not going to let my hurt feelings stop me from doing what I love with my family. Besides, it’s not like I’m really going to see Cameron anyway. I mean, I’ll see him on the field, but that’s no big deal.
No big deal.
Right?
10
Chelsea
The buzz of excitement mingles with the crisp nip in the autumn air. It’s as if mother nature is reminding us of the limited days we have left to enjoy before she buries us in snow. The electric crackle of football frenzy buzzing around us is our annual push back against the warning. Our way of making sure we feel alive in the last days of the fall.
Today is no exception. The game has been close. With only a minute and a half left in the game and the Buffaloes down 36 to 31, it doesn’t look good for Cameron’s team. While the guys get ready to line up for the final play, I manage to stop staring at Cameron long enough to glance over at Lauren.
With the cool chill in the air, I hope Honor isn’t getting uncomfortable. Instead, her eyes are closed and her chubby cheek is pressed into my sister’s chest as she sleeps through the most important play of the entire game. I can’t help the smile that creeps over my lips and spreads like sunshine over my face. She just looks so peaceful, so perfect.
Lauren is undeniably lucky to have her children, but I can’t forget how lucky I am to be so close to my niece and nephew, too. I need to remind myself sometimes to be grateful for what I do have instead of always focusing on what’s missing.
Stamping my feet, I blow some warm air over my fingers as my gaze slides back to the field. The heat of my breath billows over my skin in a temporary blanket of steam. Even if it only lasts a second or two, it still feels nice.
Suddenly, my joints freeze solid as a jolt runs from my crown to my toes. Is Cameron watching me? I struggle to let what’s left of the air in my lungs out as he stands below us, staring up in our direction. My blood roars in my ears as my heart pumps in overtime. He’s too far from me to be certain. He could be scanning the crowd or just lost in thought, but in each frantic beat of my heart, I know.
He’s looking straight at me.
I finally manage to blink and the moment is over. A moment was all it was, too. A few seconds by any watch. So, why did it feel like an eternity? How does he make me lose control over my senses like that? Making my heart skip beats, my lungs forget to breathe and my mind forgets how to understand time?
My gaze licks his body as the teams form up to face off against each other. I told myself I was angry at him. After him toying with me, kissing me, telling me I was different, opening up to me and then never calling me. Treating me like every other girl he’s ever used up and walked away from.
Worse, really. With those girls he played to win, scored his “touchdown” and then fucked off. I couldn’t even keep his interest past one kiss.
I want to be angry with him. Furious. Indignant.
Yet, as my joints finally free me from the lockdown one glance from Cameron put me in, as my heart stops thumping like I ran an Olympic sprint, as the world around me reappears from the haze, I know that I’m not upset with him.
I want him.
Driscoll, the center for the Buffaloes, hunkers down over the football for the last desperate attempt to pull this game out. My eyes never stray from Cameron, though. No matter how invested I am in the game, it doesn’t compare to my feelings for him.
The center snaps the ball back and Cameron quickly arcs his arm overhead, like a primal hunter about to chuck a spear at a sabretooth tiger. A pulse of desire drives through my body. His hand drops quickly behind his back before he raises it again, jolting his arm forward as he whips the ball to the left.
No, wait.
He didn’t throw the ball at all! It’s still in his hand behind his back! As the bodies scramble on the left side of the field, Cameron’s cleats beat the ground as he beelines for the end zone. He’s down the field in a flash and the defense is scrambling to catch up after chasing a fake out to the side of the field.
Damn, he’s moving like he’s got a jetpack strapped to his ass. Holy shit, he’s gonna make it to the end zone! The crowd is shrieking as we collectively watch with disbelief. Cameron spikes the ball down at the end of the field. It’s a touchdown!
They did it! He did it!
The Buffaloes won 38 to 36 with a trick play. I guess you should never say it’s over until it’s done. At least in football, anyway.
The stadium sounds like an airport runway with the roaring crowd celebrating the unexpected win. Honor opens her eyes and jerks her head off Lauren’s chest, blinking like she’s not sure where she is. Her mouth twists down as she begins to wail, clearly not a fan of a bunch of boisterous adults interrupting her nap.
“That was amazing! Did you see that?” Chris yells as Lauren tries to comfort her daughter.
“It was incredible,” I smile at him.
He was incredible, is more like it.
“Dad, Dad? Can we go down to the field? Can we go say ‘hi’ to Cameron?” Chris ignores his sister’s cranky cries as he presses Mack to let him go.
“Uh, I don’t think that’s a great idea, bud. Honor just woke up.”
“Awww, come on! Please? Only for a minute. I promise. I just want to tell him how awesome that was,” my nephew pleads.
Mack’s eyes dart over to Lauren, looking for guidance. I’m with him; we should really get Honor out of here and head home. Only because I’m a great auntie. No other reason.
“Honor will be fine,” Lauren nods back at Mack and my heart sinks. Shit. “I’ll just take her to the car and feed her. You guys go talk to Cameron, if you can. I’ll meet you out there,” she smiles down at her baby. “All right!” Chris whoops and bursts out toward the stadium stairs, full of bustling bodies trying to make a quick exit.
“I, uh, I’ll go with you,” I tell Lauren as I follow on her heels.
She stops short and twists back to look at me, “You’re not going to go down there?” Her eyebrows shoot up suspiciously.
“Nah, I’ll come out to the car with you. I can help you with Honor.” I mumble back, avoiding her piercing look.
“What’s going on with you? First you didn’t want to come to the game and now you don’t want to go see Cameron? Did something happen between you two that I don’t know about?” She cradles Honor against her, slightly swaying her back and forth as she demands the truth.
Did anything happen?
Technically, no. We talked. We kissed. End of story. However, my heart wrenching in my chest is calling me out on my lies. It wasn’t the end of the story. It felt like the beginning.
I watch Chris and Mack slowly fight the tide of people heading up the stairs as they make their way down to the field. My eyes drift over to Cameron; he’s walking toward the barrier between the seats and the grass to meet them. Except, he’s not looking at them.
He’s staring at me.
“No,” I manage to twist my head back in my sister’s direction and pull my gaze from Cameron. I try not to sound panicked, but I really want to get out of here before this turns into an awkward scene. “Nothing happened. Well, remember when Honor was born?”
The look on Lauren’s face makes me instantly wish I didn’t ask such a stupid question. “Um, of course
,” she frowns at me.
“Yeah, I mean, I know you do. Anyway, that night Cameron was supposed to drive me home, but we didn’t go home,” I start to spill my secret.
“Oh my God! Did you sleep with him?” Her eyes go wide.
“No! Nothing like that. We just, we talked. And then we kissed,” my voice trembles. “He said he’d call me and he didn’t. There’s no big story to tell, OK?” I look down at my feet. “He just wasn’t interested and I feel dumb now. So, can we just go?” I plead.
“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry. I had no idea,” my sister gently grabs my hand and holds her daughter with her other arm. “Let’s get out of here,” she tugs me behind her, guiding me to the stairs.
We turn up and begin climbing to the exit at the top. I feel like I could cry at any second, the lump in my throat building. Each step that I take is putting the distance I need between Cameron and I. That’s what I want, right?
“Chelsea!”
I turn my head slightly as I think I hear my name, but keep following my sister upward. The stadium is almost bare now. It’s incredible how quickly it can go from being bursting with life to as vacant as the night Cameron brought me here to look at the stars with him.
“Chelsea! Wait up!”
That wasn’t my imagination. I stop in my tracks and turn around just as Cameron closes the last step between us. He ran up here from the field? To talk to me? What does he want?
“Chelsea, please wait,” he pants, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
I don’t mean to hold my breath. I don’t want the world to slide away and for my focus to narrow in on him. On his deep blue eyes, rooting my feet in place.
“I can’t talk, I have to go,” I blurt out, but my body won’t budge.
“Please, just give me five minutes,” he reaches out and grasps my arm.
My resolve evaporates. Along with my bravado and my good sense.
“OK, five minutes.”
11
Cameron
My mind is like one of those snowy channels I tried in desperation to watch porn on, as a teenager. It’s essentially blank, but with brief glimpses of fucking always lurking in the void.
How is it that I knew exactly what I wanted to say to her, but now that she’s listening, I’m scrambling to put a sentence together? I look into Chelsea’s gorgeous eyes and my mind spins like tires in the mud. My heart is hammering in my chest and it’s not just because of those stairs I just ran. She makes me feel like an awkward teenager, fumbling around with a bra strap in the dark, no game and no damned experience.
“I saw you right before the last play,” I finally force words from my mouth. “I thought we weren’t gonna pull it out like that, but we did. You must be my good luck charm or something,” I step up to the concrete stair she stopped on, looking down into her face. With her butterscotch skin and cotton candy lips, I remember that she tasted just as sweet on my tongue as any sugary treat.
“Anyway,” I continue, trying to fill the awkward void with noise, “I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.”
“Oh well, goodbye.” She looks up at Lauren and my eyes follow hers. I’m no academic, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that these two ladies aren’t my biggest fans right now.
Can I blame them? Chelsea and I had a night I still can’t shake from my mind and then I never got a hold of her again. Judging from the kid Lauren gave birth to that night resting in her arms, I’d say that was about a year ago.
“Hey,” I run my tongue over my teeth, “listen, I should’ve called you. Let me take you out. I wanna make it up to you.” A spider web of fine lines appears over her freckles as she scrunches her nose at me.
“I, uh, can’t.” She looks at her hands. “I’m busy.”
“You’re not a great liar, you know that?”
Her mouth twists up like a knot and she throws back her shoulders, “How dare you call me a liar,” she puffs up. “You think I don’t have anything going on? Like I couldn’t possibly be busy?” I let her pick up steam. I like seeing this side of her. Like a little firecracker.
“I’m not saying that,” I can’t help but smirk, “you probably do have a lot going on. But, you are definitely lying.”
“Who do you think you are?” Her eyebrows furrow together.
“Chelsea, I didn’t tell you when I wanted to take you out. So, unless you’ve got something planned every single second of every single day, you might be exaggerating the busy thing just a tad bit.”
Chelsea’s eyes transform from narrow, angry slits to saucers. I clamp my teeth down on the inside of my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing. I can practically see her mind spinning for an excuse.
Two steps above us, Lauren giggles.
“Hey! Cameron!” My attention is torn away from the sexy spitfire fumbling for her words over to Chris.
“Hey, man! How’s it going? Haven’t seen you in a while!” I clench my fingers around his hand and give it a shake. Behind him, Mack closes the last few steps to reach us.
“Man, you didn’t see us? My dad and I went down to the field to talk to you,” Chris points down the long staircase, “but you blew right past us. Jeez you got up here fast! What was the big hurry?” He wipes his hand over the tiny beads of sweat forming on his brow.
“Did I? Sorry, man. I was just distracted by a beautiful woman. I couldn’t let her walk out of here without talking to her,” I smile.
Chris looks down the aisles of seats to each side of us, then up to his mother and Chelsea. “Who?”
“Thanks,” Chelsea sticks her tongue out at Chris.
“To her?” Chris points to his aunt as he presses me for answers.
“You got it, man.”
“Ugh, she’s not a beautiful woman. She’s my aunt!” Chris twists his lips down like he just took a bite out of a lemon.
“Christopher, enough!” Lauren scolds him.
“Hey Cameron, that was one hell of a play you pulled off out there!” Mack steps up, saving his son from his mother’s scorn. “And that was one hell of a workout that you gave us to follow you back up here. Man, I’ve gotten out of shape since I left the military. Getting all soft around the edges,” he smiles, clapping me on the shoulder.
“I like you better that way,” Lauren smiles at him. It’s easy to see from the twinkle in her eye that she’s not lying.
“Thanks, Mack. I can’t believe it worked.” I smile at him, but my eyes don’t stay on his face for long. I can’t stop myself from looking over at Chelsea.
“So, what do you say?” I prod her.
She tucks her hair behind her ear and bites her bottom lip. Damn she’s a tease. I want to pull her lip in over my teeth and give her hair a tug as I … Wow, I need to hit the showers.
“What’s he talking about?” Chris interrupts the silence that Chelsea is leaving hanging around us.
“I’m trying to get your aunt to come out with me, on a date.” I answer him without taking my eyes off of her.
“Really?”
“Christopher,” Lauren warns him again.
Chelsea looks around her at our small audience, then looks back at me.
“OK, how about we meet you in the car, Chelsea? Come on guys,” Lauren gives out the marching orders, “I still need to get Honor a bottle.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Mack answers following his wife up the stairs. “Good luck, man,” he mutters as he scoots past me.
“Oh, fine,” Chris sighs, dragging his feet. “Well, I hope I’ll see you again soon. Great game, Cameron,” he calls over his shoulder as he follows his parents to the exit.
I look around the stadium; there’s only a few stragglers left and us. We’ve practically got the place to ourselves … again.
“So, how about this. You forgive me for being an ass and not calling you and come out on a date with me. Then, I’ll forgive you, too.”
“Forgive me?” She looks up at me and tilts her head to the side. The way she’s looking
at me, it takes everything I have left inside of me to keep my cool. I want to crush my lips into hers and strip her bare right here in the stands. Even with the few people around who haven’t cleared out yet.
“Yeah, for lying to me about being busy,” I murmur. Against her best attempts not to, she finally cracks a smile.
“Come on, what do you say? Let me redeem myself.”
I can see the cogs spinning overtime in her mind. Damn, I’ve never had to work this hard to score a date before. The crazy part is, I’d work ten times harder for her. There’s something about her that I’ve never been able to shake. Maybe that’s why I’ve avoided calling her for all these months. There’s a comfort to the mindless routine of picking up the girls I’m used to taking home. I never have to think, I just do.
“Come on, don’t make me go grab a boom box and hold it over my head like some cheesy eighties movie. Just one date, what do ya say?” I grasp her hand and her eyes flutter up to mine.
“Yes.”
12
Cameron
Vr-vr-rooom! Vr-rooom!
I rev the throttle back on my baby and she cries out. It doesn’t matter if it’s a woman or my Honda CB100, there’s nothing like filling the air with their high-pitch squeals by riding them right.
I take the corner tight and make my way to Chelsea’s place. I don’t have to take my eye off the road to know that I’m getting the stink eye from plenty of her neighbors. I think there’s something about the noise of a motorcycle that makes people twist up their faces in jealousy. Probably because it reminds them of fun they used to have or could’ve had before they settled down in suburbia.
I pull up into Chelsea’s shared driveway and lock the kickstand into place with my foot. It doesn’t matter anyway; I’m not worried about what her neighbors think. There’s only one person I’m focused on tonight and that’s Chelsea. I just hope that she hasn’t already decided that she’s too far behind her knee-high, white picket fence bordering her neatly trimmed yard, to let loose and live a bit.