by Zoey Shores
It’ll still be something I’ll never forget … but, hopefully, it’ll be something I’m comfortable leaving in the past. Something I can accept, maybe even cherish, as a memory – that will never actually happen again.
Suddenly, I feel like I see a swift motion flash by above the bleachers. Could it have been a bird flying by? With my eyes fixed on the area right above the top of the bleachers – the field is on the other side -- I see it again. An object shoots up from below the horizon of the top row of bleachers, flies almost the entire length of the field, and then descends below the top row on the opposite end.
A couple kids throwing the football back and forth? But those throws ... those aren’t kids throws. Hell, those aren’t adult throws. The arc the ball described in the air spanned from one end of the field all the way to the other.
In fact, I can only think of one person in town who could possibly make a throw like that …
Really? Maybe I’m just seeing things. Maybe I should turn around and go home just in case I’m not.
But I don’t turn around and go home. I slowly walk down the length of the bleachers, in the direction of the side of the field the ball shot up from. As I get closer to the end, and closer to the gap between the section of bleachers flanking the left of the field and the section of bleachers set up behind the north endzone, I can hear rough, hard, masculine breathing, and a grunt of exhaustion as the man hurls another pass down the length of the field.
I walk onto the field. The figure throwing is standing with his back turned to me, an open bag of footballs lying next to him. He holds one in his hand and steadies himself. In a quick, dazzling motion, he cocks his arm back, turns his svelte, efficient hips and builds up energy in his wide shoulders, before blasting off like a ripcord, activating every muscle in his body, letting off a pass that shoots out of his hand and soars with unbelievable speed and perfect form down the field.
There’s no doubt about it. There’s not another man in a hundred miles who can throw like that, nor is there a man in a hundred miles whose shoulders are so wide, whose muscles are so tight and defined, whose figure is so imposing and powerful, whose movement is so efficient and explosive.
He bends over to lift up another ball, his breath steamy in the frosty air. He pauses for a moment with his hand on another ball, sensing something. He turns his head to me. Our eyes lock.
He straightens his back, the ball held tightly in one hand, his large, massive fingers cupping the entire ball with ease.
“Getting ready for the playoffs?” I offer as a conversation opener. Sometimes, when there’s so much to say, it’s hard to find anything to say.
“After last Saturday, I guess I’d better be,” Luke responds, the edges of his mouth in only the slightest way working upward into a hesitant smile.
A surge of guilt jabs me. We both know why he played so bad last Saturday.
I feel a dab of wetness on the top of my head. I look up and see small flakes of snow falling in the light of the moon.
“The first snow of the year,” Luke muses, looking up. Soon, the flakes fall faster and denser, their icy whiteness magnifying the moonlight, illuminating the field where Luke and I stand.
I’m overtaken by the memory of looking forward to winter that year I dated Luke in high school. I always loved the snow. It struck the romantic nerve in me. I was so looking forward to being with him during the winter, snuggling while it snowed, feeling warm huddled next to him on a cold winter night.
He ended up getting kicked out in early November, before the first snow of the year.
“You were behind the bleachers?” Luke asks.
I nod. “Yeah. I wanted to go for a walk after dinner. I ended up wandering here.”
A wry smile slowly forms on Luke’s lips. “I have one particular memory about those exact set of bleachers.”
I blush, feeling the wetness of the drops of snow that melt more quickly as they make contact with my warming cheeks. “You really remember?”
Luke’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “My first kiss? Of course I remember. I’ve only have had one kiss that beat that one, too.”
My heartbeat speeds up. “Oh?”
“You know, Heidi, no matter what happens between us, I don’t regret what happened. Even if I tank for the rest of the season and bomb in the playoffs because I can’t get you off my mind. It’ll still be worth it. Getting back in touch with you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. More than football.”
As I look at him, my vision begins to blur -- I realize that tears are slowly filling my eyes. ”Oh, Luke,” I end up sputtering, wishing something more meaningful left my lips. I lower my head to hide my tears, which come down the side of my eyes hot and slowly turn to stinging cold down my cheeks.
Before I know it, Luke’s firm hands are on my shoulders. “Heidi, don’t cry.”
“It’s not fair,” I get out between suppressed sobs. Not fair how right we are for each other. How right we’ve always been, and always will be. It’s not fair how natural it feels, how much it makes sense, how hard it is to do anything but be with him.
“What?” he asks, concern heavy in his voice.
“It’s not fair how perfect this could be, should be ... but how impossible it is.”
Luke takes a step forward and wraps me in his arms. Here we are, huddled against each other, his big, strong arms around me, our body heat mingling in the cold night air, while snow falls around us, just like I dreamed about so long ago.
“Heidi, I’ll be honest. I still wasn’t ready to accept what you said. I’m still not. I haven’t given up yet.”
I raise my head and look up at him. The warmth and intensity of his emerald green eyes stare back at me.
“I know there are reasons we shouldn’t be together. Good reasons, even,” he begins. “You’re supposed to be covering us for the student paper, and you need to be neutral. I’m going to get drafted to an NFL team and you’re going to be in a different city working for a newspaper. We’ll both travel a lot. Who knows when we’ll get to see each other, especially during the season, or especially when you’re on a big assignment? But you know what? There’s only one reason that we should be together, and it’s bigger than all the reasons we shouldn’t. I love you, Heidi. That’s the reason we should be together. Nothing matters more than that.”
“But …" I begin, before he silences me with his hand gently stroking the side of my hair.
“Do you love me? If you don’t, I’ll accept that we can’t be together. But you have to say it while looking me in the eye.”
His eyes pierce deep into my soul. Even if I wanted to try and tell him I don’t love him, even if I could say that lie to myself, even if I could let those words escape my lips, any untruth would still melt under that penetrating, knowing gaze. “I do love you, Luke.”
“Then what else matters?”
“I’m just scared of getting hurt again if it doesn’t work out. If we spend the rest of college together, and then things fall apart under the stress of distance. It was so hard losing you once, I don’t know if I can bear to have it happen again.”
A twinge of hurt flashes in Luke’s eyes. Guilt at leaving me. Even though it wasn’t his fault. I hope he knows I know that.
“Heidi, if I could promise you that we’d overcome all the challenges for sure, I would. But I can’t. I’ll never promise you anything that I’m not absolutely certain I can guarantee, because I can’t stand the thought of breaking a promise to you. I can’t read the future. But there is one thing I can promise. I’ll do everything I can to make it work. I’m in one hundred percent, and I always will be. I’ll never give up, I’ll always make you my priority. Can you promise the same?”
“Of course.”
A warm smile spreads out across Luke’s luxurious lips. He slides his hands from my back and grasps my hands in his. He stands back, a look of unalloyed happiness on his face as he gazes on me. “Heidi Locke, will you be my girlfriend?”
; I feel like my chest is melting and lightheadedness overtakes me for a moment. Then, an inexpressible joy replaces it. “Yes, Luke,” I answer through tears of joy that begin to swell in my eyes. “I will.”
He presses his lips against mine. A soft, warm, deep kiss. When I open my eyes again, the grass around us is covered with a fine dusting of snow, sparkling in the moonlight.
“You know,” Luke croons, a sly smile on his lips and a devilish glint in his eyes. “My mom isn’t home right now.”
I feel another blush warms my face and spread across my neck, even up to my ears. “Now we really sound like high schoolers again,” I laugh.
“Wanna come over, then?”
“Yes,” I smile, feeling an excitement rise and twist in my stomach.
The second we cross the threshold of the front door to Luke’s house, Luke turns around, pushing the door shut while at the same time backing me up into it. The door shuts and my back is suddenly flat against it, Luke’s heaving chest trapping me between the door and his mass of muscle.
His lips crash against mine, growing more desperate by the second. His kiss is ravenous, obsessed, wild. Our lips lash against each other’s, and soon his tongue penetrates my mouth, wrapping around my own. His hands are a frenzy, sliding off my jacket and feeling underneath my shirt.
His strong palm cups my breast over the fabric of my bra. His other finger plays at the hem of my waistband. The light feel of his fingertips tracing across my hips and lower stomach gives me the sensation of my stomach jumping into my throat, like I’m on a roller coaster plunging from a high peak.
Luke kisses my neck, drawing moans from my mouth. “Oh, Luke,” I pant.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Luke groans. “I need to see you.” He grabs the bottom of my shirt and eases it over my head. He places his hands on the side of my hips and looks at me, my torso clad only in my white lace bra. It’s dark in his empty living room, but the moonlight reflecting from the falling snow outside flows in through the windows, granting us enough illumination to see each other.
He shakes off his jacket and reach down to lift his own shirt off. He reveals an impossibly broad chest and shocking wide shoulders, covered in muscles that surge from his body like a mountain range. I place my hand against his chest, the solidness of his physique making my mouth water. There’s a wet warmth between my legs that begs for him.
His abs are solid, like they’re sculpted from granite, their sharp and defined ridges incredible to behold. He takes me in his powerful arms and walks me into his bedroom, where he lays me down on his bed. He towers over me, taking a moment to rake his eyes greedily over my body. The air between us is crackling in the heat of our passion and desire.
He slides my pants off my legs, licking his lips all the while, with need written in his eyes. He runs his hands up my bare thighs, sending a shudder rocking through my body. My nipples stiffen, hard enough to cut glass. I cup them in my hands and kneed the soft warm flesh in my fingers, closing my eyes and taking in the pleasure of his hard, rough, powerful hands rubbing my legs.
He crawls onto the bed. I inch back, giving him room. He makes eye contact with me, his eyes wide and on fire. He lowers his head between my legs, eliciting a gasp from me and causing my chest to hitch with heavier breaths. His lips brush against the fabric of my panties. A moan escapes my lips.
He takes the waistband of my panties in his teeth. I lift my hips, allowing him to ease my panties off my legs with my mouth. My pussy is dripping wet once he stands up and flicks his head to the side, sending my panties flying across his room.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you like this,” he marvels. That night on campus, it was pitch dark in the offices. We could feel, but we couldn’t see.
I sit up on the edge of the bed and undo his belt, letting his jeans drop off his sleek, slim hips and fall to the ground. I grab the top of his tight boxer-briefs and lower them down. His cock springs up once his elastic waistband passes over it, standing up perfectly straight. I marvel at it, its width, its length. It felt big inside of me that night – it felt huge – but looking at it, I can hardly believe it fit.
He steps out of his crumpled pants and underwear and stands nude in front of me, his cock bobbing up and down in front of my face. “Like what you see?” he teases.
“I love it,” I say. I reach up and take his hard length in my hands. It’s like holding a steel bar. It has a surprising heft to it. A gruff moan leaves Luke’s throat as I wrap my fingers around his width.
I wrap my lips around his head of his cock and slowly glide up and down, softly shifting my grip up and down his shaft. ”Holy fuck,” he moans. His hips start to rock back and forth as I increase me pressure of my lips and the speed of my hands.
I tease the tip of his cock with my tongue, flicking up and down in quick, teasing licks. He places his hands on my hand and grabs my hair. “Don’t make me come, Heidi. I need to fuck you,” he pleads.
I fit his length as deep in my mouth as I can, and then move my head backward, taking in one last caress of his length with my lips, applying only gentle pressure to keep his orgasm at bay. Once his cock is out of my mouth, I lean back on his bed with my legs spread, my warm center tingling and hot with need. I just felt him in my mouth, now I need to feel him truly inside me again.
Luke reaches down into his pocket for another condom and slides it down his shaft. He crawls over me on the bed, and places his hands on my knees, widening my hips, exposing my needy, yearning pussy.
“I need you, Luke,” I plead. “Fuck me now.”
His nostrils flare and a deep, guttural moan, almost a roar, surges from him. He eases himself between my legs and plunges his length inside of me. I moan in shock and pleasure as he pushes himself inside me harder.
“Yes, just like that,” I moan. I dig my fingernails into his wide back and buck my hips forward to meet his thrusts, pleasure rocking my body.
His breaths get quicker as he pumps harder, faster, groans and curses escaping from his throat.
“I’m gonna come,” I moan, feeling an orgasm arise from the center of my body, the sweet, acute pleasure spreading to every inch of my body.
My eyes roll in the back of my head and he thrusts forward one more time and the full strength of my orgasm breaks out. Pulses of pleasure rush throughout my body as I moan Luke’s name.
When the world stops spinning and I can open my eyes again, Luke is hovering over me, his eyes resting on me softly. “That was amazing," I say in a small voice, breathless and exhausted.
Luke lays down next to me. His fingers find mine, lacing our hands together. “There’s a lot more where that came from.”
EPILOGUE: LUKE
The cork of the champagne bottle pops off with a loud sound and goes flying into the wall of the locker room.
“We’re the fucking world champions, baby!” Archer screams, popping the cork on yet another bottle of champagne and pouring it into his mouth, utterly unconcerned that the liquid also runs down his soiled jersey.
Hell, he deserves to celebrate, after scoring two running touchdowns in the national college championship game.
The game we just won.
Last year, we made it to the playoffs, but only got to round two. It was a learning experience, though, and allowed us to come back with a vengeance this year. And now I’m ending the season of my senior year with the highest victory possible in college sports. It couldn’t have ended more perfectly.
We spend more time celebrating and eventually get showered and dressed, making our way out of the locker room and into the stadium lobby, where throngs of adoring fans await us, cheering and holding posters made for us.
“I’m so proud of you, honey!” my mom beams, embracing me. “And of you, too, Kurt,” she adds as Coach Riker walks up next to us. She leans over and gives him a kiss.
Yeah, Coack Riker and my mom are a thing. Officially. It was weird at first, that’s for damn sure. But I got used to. They’re a perfect match, a
nyway. I can’t believe the idea ever bothered me in the first place.
Heidi runs up to me and leaps into my arms. “You finally did it, baby! All that hard work paid off.”
As great as having that championship trophy is, it pales in comparison to the real trophy. The trophy I’ll have forever. The woman resting in my arms right now.
I’m never letting her go.
Read More From Zoey!
TOUCH BACK
An Enemies to Lovers Sports Romance
Lucky for me, “opposites attract” is just a cliché. That’s how I know I’m not falling for Cole Hampton.
Empire State U’s top Running Back is a cocky alpha-hole who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. While I’m hosting all-night study sessions, he’s pulling all-nighters of a very different kind. Needless to say, our paths don’t cross.
But at the tail end of Junior year, a series of chance encounters are enough to get our personalities clashing and our tempers flaring.
I hate his arrogance. I hate his sense of entitlement. I hate that he has sorority girls hanging off his arms as he walks down campus, even though he treats them with total disdain.
I hate how his obnoxious, arrogant jokes are starting to make me laugh …
I hate how I see his piercing, blues eye when I lie down in bed at night …
And when a wild coincidence over the summer forces us closer than ever, I hate how sexual this tension is starting to feel …
Pfft, nothing to worry about, right? “Opposites attract” just doesn’t happen in the real world.
