I don’t want to be impatient but I’m tired of playing this game. The last thing I want is to be an asshole and give her an ultimatum but we’ve been dragging this on for too long. I need to know where we stand, once and for all. So, I’ll do my part. I’ll do whatever it takes so that she’s sure of my intentions for our relationship.
A puddle of sheen forms on the rims of her eyes. “My god, Jason Bellino. You make my legs weak. You know that?” She places a soft kiss on my lips.
The look of adoration on her face could bring me to my knees. I want to be able to put that look on her face every day for the rest of my life.
I’m falling faster than she is, and that’s kind of terrifying. But I’m committed, determined. Sera is going to love me. I’ll do everything in my power to make that happen.
That damn annulment deadline is looming on the horizon. The days are counting down. I’ve already made my decision—I want Sera. Forever. But how much does she want me?
She won’t say it but I know. She wants to wait until the annulment deadline. Just in case. Just in case I don’t live up to her expectations. Just in case it turns out I’m not good enough. Just in case I let her down.
That stings.
A sour feeling tries to surge but I do my best to hold it back. We can make this work, I remind myself. We can make this work.
With the excitement of a kid in a candy store, she heads straight for the sofas and seating section. I go off in search of a store employee for assistance.
By the time I find a sales associate to help us, Sera is browsing through the rugs and carpeting displayed on high racks at the back of the store.
I take the salesperson aside and give him instructions. Everything she looks at, I’m buying it. The throw pillows, the vases, the Egyptian cotton linen. All of it.
As we’re headed toward the cash register, Sera’s eyes move back to the sofa section. I see the way her eyes linger on a dainty sofa and love seat set, covered with velvety Pepto Bismal-colored fabric and big buttons or some shit.
I get an instant toothache at the idea of that thing replacing my manly overstuffed all-black Italian leather sectional. Still, I ask her, “You like that?”
She timidly takes a step toward it. When she turns over the price tag, she flinches and hurries away from it like the thing just tried to piss on her shoe. “It’s expensive.” She adjusts her glasses.
I chuckle. “That wasn’t the question. Do you like it?” I pronounce my words deliberately.
She lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. “It’s cute…”
“Okay. We’re gonna get it.” I motion toward the sales guy, calling him over again.
Sera lowers my hand out of the air. “It’s a bit girlie for your condo, though. A little too…domesticated.”
I saunter over to it and drop down on the extra soft cushions. “Then, I’ll just have to make up for that by doing some very undomesticated deeds to you on it.” I hook an arm around her leg and she tumbles into my lap, laughing.
“Oh my god. You’re a trip, mister.” She kneels on the cushions so she’s straddling my lap and looming above me. “Jace, you really don’t have to do all these things for me.”
I put a peck on her lips. “Wait—you think I’m doing all this for you?! Nah. I’m doing this for me, Baby Girl.” I kiss her again, this time, focusing my attention on her bottom lip as my hands run up her back. “Because making you ridiculously happy makes me ridiculously happy.”
“Fuck, Bellino.” Sera takes my cheeks in her hands and deepens the kiss, nibbling on my mouth before introducing her tongue to mine. She pulls back and searches my eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with the cocky asshole I thought I knew all these years?”
I smile. “To answer your first question—I’m your husband, that’s who I am.” I kiss her some more. “And as for your second question, that fool is bound and gagged and hanging from chains in a basement somewhere. Sorry. You’re stuck with me, babe.” I wink.
She snickers against my lips and the kiss gets intense with my hands on her ass and her fingers in my hair.
We quickly forget where we are, going at it until I hear someone clearing their throat nearby.
I peek around Sera’s shoulder to find the salesperson looking red-faced and uncomfortable. “Sir, ma’am. My manager asked me to remind you that this couch is for display purposes only.”
Sera climbs out of my lap with an adorable blush.
I climb out beside her, making sure to discreetly tap her delicious ass. “Newly weds,” I explain with a sheepish smile. “Can’t keep our hands off of each other.”
I get a tight smile from the sales associate. Then, we’re following him across the store to the cash register.
Sera leans on the counter beside me, her finger hooked in my belt loop as I pay for our purchases. The sheets, cushions and other small items get bagged up and I make arrangements for the couch to be delivered in a few weeks.
I hear a little beep come from Sera’s phone where she’s placed it on the counter next to my car keys. Without thinking, I glance down at the device.
My blood runs icy when I see Rocky’s name on her screen.
Rocky: Hey. I think it’s time that we talk.
I see the way Sera’s shoulders tense and the good humor drains from her face. With a huff, she picks up her phone and stuffs it into the front pocket of her sweater.
“You ready to go?” she asks, barely glancing at me as she grabs the car keys and a few of the huge shopping bags. She heads for the door. “I’ll wait in the car.”
As I watch her walk away, there’s a caveman inside my chest, trying to claw and tear and rip his way out.
What the fuck does Rocky want to talk about? And why is Sera going off to speak to him in private? Does she have something to hide? Does she still have feelings for him?
I finally finish up with the cashier and exit the store, my fists clenched around the handles of the remaining bags. Flashbacks of Sera crying at Rocky’s apartment two weeks ago replay in my head the whole time.
She still has feelings for him…
I fling the bags into the back seat, tear open the front door and climb behind the wheel.
Sera is in the passenger seat with her head cradled against the headrest, staring blankly at the ceiling. She pivots her face to look at me. “You okay?” she asks, her voice soft.
Meanwhile, my voice is harder than it has any right to be when I volley her question back. “Are you?”
She forces a smile. “Yeah. I’m good.”
I grip the steering wheel and close my eyes.
Her hand falls to my shoulder. “Jace…What’s wrong?”
When I look in her direction, I find nothing but concern in her dark irises.
“I saw the text Sera. I know Rocky messaged you.”
She furrows her forehead. “Yeah. And I ignored him.” She motions her chin toward where her purse is in the backseat. It’s buried under all the shopping bags and all I can see is the black leather strap.
And now I feel like a big, hairy asshole.
“Let’s just go,” she says sounding tired and broken.
“Yeah.” I start the car and exit the parking lot.
Sera doesn’t say a word and neither do I as I drive. The ugly thoughts bolting through my mind zip back and forth, faster than the cars moving around us on the freeway.
I acted like a jealous idiot. I know that. And now, she’s mad at me.
I don’t build up the courage to speak until I’ve pulled into my spot in my building’s parking garage and cut the engine. “I overreacted. I’m sorry…”
Her eyes are on me under the muted lights of the parking garage. “Jason, that man devastated me, he embarrassed me, he wrecked my self-esteem. I don’t fucking want him. Why on Earth would you be insecure that he texted me?”
I scrape my fingers along my scalp. “I’m not insecure,” I snap.
Although maybe, I am.
I grapple for the right word
s. “I just…We were having a great time together at the store. Then, all of a sudden, Rocky’s name is on your phone and your whole mood changed and you walked out the door…I didn’t know what to think…”
Her chest rises when she breathes in. “Jace, I don’t have any lingering feelings for Rocky. But seeing his name…it was a dash of cold water to the face. It reminded me of how things turned out the last time I trusted a man. It made me second-guess myself and all the things I’m feeling for you now.” She turns in her seat and faces me. “It’s scary. Thinking of how much I lost. Especially in the context of how much I feel for you right now.”
The metal vice around my heart begins to release its hold, slowly. I think about how Sera’s been since we got her clothes from Rocky’s apartment. Now that I’ve brushed the lint of insecurity away from my brain, I realize that she’s been different, freer, more affectionate toward me since then. Like maybe, just maybe, that shitshow at Rocky’s house actually provided her with some much needed clarity.
I stare straight ahead, looking at nothing but a concrete wall. “I feel like I just keep working harder and harder and harder to make you happy and in the back of my mind, there’s this echo of doubt reminding me that, no matter how hard I try, you could still wake up one day and leave me.”
I saw how hard Gabriel worked for my mother, how hard he loved her. Then, she still bolted. She abandoned him when he needed her most. He crumbled because of it.
I wouldn’t be able to survive that.
What happened with Gabe haunts me to this day. He was the first person who ever threw a football with me. The first person who believed in me. The first solid male figure in my life. He was on the Paragons back then. A defensive safety like me. And then he got injured and that spiralled into an addiction to pain meds. In a flash, his career was over and it didn’t take long for my mom to kick him to the curb, to abandon him when he needed her. No wonder I’m so fucking scared, man.
But Sera reaches across the console to cup my cheek, forcing me to make eye contact. “Then, you know exactly how I feel…” She closes her eyes and her pink lips push to the side. “Love offers zero guarantees. Isn’t that fucked up?” She emits a hollow laugh. “It’s a war between your survival instinct and your heart. Your survival instinct is yelling at you to ‘sit your ass down, buckle your seatbelt and put on your oxygen mask, dammit’. Meanwhile your heart is telling you to ‘jump out of the plane’, knowing fully well that there’s no parachute, knowing fully well that you have no idea where you’ll land.” She nudges her glasses to wipe a tear from her eye. “Why the hell would anyone do it?”
I place my hand over hers and squeeze, getting lost in her soulful brown eyes. “Because the fall is so fucking beautiful.” Because you are so fucking beautiful.
She takes a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes locked on mine. “So let’s do it,” she begs softly. “Let’s jump. Let’s fall. Together. No parachutes.”
I kiss her lips and make a pledge. Two simple words. “No parachutes.”
Thirty-Four
Sera
The crowd is going absolutely nuts.
Maxwell just completed a rushing touchdown, scoring on the turnover that Jace executed.
Beside me, my mom and sister throw up their arms and cheer. Granny Bellino turns and gives us all enthusiastic high-fives, her tiny body drowning in her huge number eleven Paragons jersey.
I’m clapping and jumping around like an idiot. I can’t help the pride surging in me. Jace is going to be pumped over that drive.
Iris holds up her handmade sign, hooting and shimmying. Faith throws an arm around me, doing a victory dance of her own as she points toward the field through the window of the Paragons’s private family and friends only skybox. “That’s my man, y’all! That’s my man!” she yells.
From across the room, Holly rolls her eyes and mouths, “We know.”
Wow—with salty bitches like that, who needs sodium pills, y’know?
The Paragons are playing San Diego today and when I showed up to the game with my mom, Katrina and Granny Bellino, Faith texted me, insisting that we sit with her and her friends.
And oh my gosh, it’s glorious in here. Massive flatscreens on every wall offering continuous replays of the game. Free flowing alcohol. Servers handing out bite-sized treats. And the seats…the seats are velvet.
I wish Minka were here. She’d be having the time of her life. I texted her a million times but she’s been impossible to get in touch with these days. I don’t know what’s up with her all of a sudden.
Anyway, the defense is finally on the field again. I block everything out and focus on the game, zeroing in on number eleven.
My man.
God. Last night was beautiful.
After the commitments we made to each other in the car, we went to Jace’s bed—our bed—and we sealed those commitments with our bodies. Again and again, all night. And now, I know that it’s safe. I can trust him.
I’m falling for him and I can’t help it. I want to spend every minute with my skin on his and when we can’t be together, all I do is think of him. We’ve been having fun. A lot of it—both in bed and out. Plus, he understands me in a way no one ever has. He fully supports my career and instead of trying to hold me back, he wants to see me succeed.
I’m a lost cause. I’m gone. I’m head over heels. I’m all in.
I glance at the wall-mounted TV monitor to get a closer look at my husband. I can’t make out his words but just from his body language, I can tell that he’s talking trash to the San Diego players as both teams line up on the line of scrimmage.
It really shouldn’t get me all hot and bothered, watching him make violent threats to other men. But lordy, it sure does.
As soon as the other team snaps the ball, Jace is blitzing toward the quarterback. He dives but misses the tackle.
Fortunately, another Paragon teammate leaps and takes their quarterback down in a successful sack. I shoot up to my feet, watching as Jace’s teammate and the opposing quarterback go down in a heavy pile on top of him.
The Paragons player climbs to his feet. Then the shaken quarterback from San Diego. But Jace doesn’t. Not even when his own teammate holds out a hand.
I hold my breath as Jace sits up slowly. He reaches down with both hands, gripping his ankle.
No.
Get up, get up, get up.
He tries to, with the help of his teammates. But he can’t. He crumples to the turf again.
Dammit.
“Oh my god,” Katrina breathes out next to me.
Iris’s palm lands on my shoulder, rubbing comfortingly, but I can’t take my eyes off the field for long enough to look at her.
I mutter under my breath, speaking to Jace from across the distance. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
I watch in horror as the coach walks out to where Jace is on the field. The medical team follows. Then the little medical golf cart.
My gut churns.
“You’re okay,” I whisper again. It’s not as though it’s a head injury or a bone sticking through his flesh or anything. I’d probably have already passed out if that was the case.
A replay on the jumbotron shows that Jace’s own teammate landed on his ankle. The angle of it wasn’t pretty, but it’s impossible to tell how bad the damage is. Even with his helmet on, I catch the grimace marring his perfect face.
Now, Jace is being carted off the football field. They’ll be headed toward the tunnel in a minute, no doubt going to the locker room for further evaluation. I grip my middle as my eyes dart to the stairwell. I have to know. I can’t sit here in agony, waiting and not knowing if he’s returning to the game or headed to the hospital.
Brain in a muddled haze of panic, I point toward the stairs. “I have to…”
“Go.” My mother says to me. “Go after him.”
Katrina’s nodding. “He’s going to need you, Sera.”
Granny Bellino is staring at me with cloudy eyes,
looking sick to her stomach.
“I’ll come with you,” Faith offers. “To make sure you get access permissions,” she says knowingly.
I grab my purse and rush down the stairs with Faith trying to catch up.
I have to get to Jace.
Thirty-Five
Jace
“Babe! Do you know where my Call of Duty game is?” I call out.
I hope Sera can hear me from the other room. I’m sitting on my ass, on the floor in front of my entertainment center, completely taken aback by the weird arrangement of my video games.
This has Sera written all over it.
“I sure do. One sec!” she responds.
I struggle up and hop back to the couch on one leg, collapsing onto the cushions with a labored huff. I’m already getting bored being stuck at home while my sprained ankle heals.
I feel like an idiot for getting hurt so early in the season. I’m ashamed to admit to being distracted by Sera’s presence in the stands. I was imagining her eyes on me the whole quarter and a half that I was out there…and I wanted to impress her.
I’m sure I’m impressing her real good now that I’m cranky and hobbling around the house on crutches all day.
Dumbass.
That attempted tackle was a stupid move, and it feels even shittier since it was a friendly fire injury, with my own teammate landing on me. I almost wish I’d gotten injured by the other team; then I could be pissed at someone other than myself.
Still, it was a bit overkill for the medical staff to cart me off the field Sunday like I was dying, but when you’ve got this kind of leg injury, the doctors never want to chance it. Putting even a little weight on it at the wrong time could have been the difference between a minor muscle pull and ripping a tendon in two. I’ve seen that shit happen, and I don’t want to add my name to that kind of stat sheet.
Anyway, I just need to take it easy for a couple games, and I should be back on the field in no time. Physiotherapy is going well. Better than expected actually. The therapist said the sprain is not as bad as they thought. They’d like me to take it easy still, but I’m allowed to hobble around if I’m careful.
Playing House: A Small Town Brother’s Best Friend Romance (The Playboys of Sin Valley Book 1) Page 23
