Rookie in Love

by Sarah White

  Aunt Gwen’s little condo is warm and cozy, with framed photos lining the walls. She asks me to follow her into her office so she can retrieve my gift, and rummages through the closet while I take in the messy piles of books on her bookshelf. I’ve always looked up to her even though she has been talked about negatively in our circle of friends.

  “How’s retirement?” I ask, my eyes catching on the large pile of legal paperwork on her desk.

  “I never could sit still,” she says, as if I should’ve known she’d get back to working on something. “A friend of mine asked me to look over a case for her to see if there was anything I would suggest she should do.”

  “You haven’t even been retired a year,” I remind her.

  “It wasn’t for me,” she says with a small chuckle.

  I can’t help but laugh. I hope I’m as eager to work when I’m her age. I think it has everything to do with her love for her profession. After all, she gave up so much to pursue it.

  “Still no regrets after all this time?” I ask.

  She emerges from the closet with my gift. “Not one.” The answer is quick and deliberate. She never hesitates.

  “It had to be hard at times,” I add.

  My aunt was a bit of a rebel. She went to the best schools and got an impressive education, and then she used that education to take down the wealthy and elite. She was one of the top employment lawyers in her day and would often fight against the companies that ran in our social circle if they were violating their employees’ rights.

  “It got lonely,” she answers. “I made difficult choices but I know I did the right thing.”

  “I hate that people let business get in the way of friendship.”

  “Business connections are important. I understand why some felt the need to distance themselves from me and my practice.”

  “But family?” I ask quietly. “We should stick together no matter what.”

  Aunt Gwen just shrugs.

  It is because of her need for justice that she often lives her life with one foot in both worlds. She is an advocate for the regular worker, but she came from the upper class. She knows both, but isn’t accepted by either. It didn’t matter to her though, she did the right thing because that’s what made her happy. She met my uncle David and together they made their own place in the world with people like them who fought causes that pushed us forward as a society.

  “Being born with a silver spoon in your mouth will open doors for you, Madeline. It’s up to you to decide what rooms to step into and what to do once you’re in there.” She points to the couch and we both sit down so I can open the gift. “I wanted to use my powers for good,” she says with a laugh.

  “When did it start?” I’ve always wondered if it was a slow breakup with friends, or a quick jump out of that world.

  “One of my first cases I sued a company owned by a man whose daughter went to private school with me. Doors started to shut quickly. That’s the way things work in our world. But I’d rather be happy and doing the right thing than doing what other people want me to be doing just so they won’t shut me out.”

  “I know,” I tell her as I start to unwrap the gift.

  “Look,” she says as she puts her hand on my arm, “there are a lot of amazing people and opportunities that will never be allowed inside those doors. You can only meet them if you are looking out here. Don’t be fooled. That world isn’t everything.” She gives my arm a squeeze and then lets it go.

  I open the beautifully wrapped gift and uncover a small jewelry box with a dancing ballerina on top. It looks very old and a little worn on the hinges. My aunt sweeps her finger across the top, below the dancer’s delicate feet. “It was your mother’s, Madeline. I think she would have wanted it to be yours now.”

  “It’s wonderful,” I whisper, as I open the top to find the box lined with red velvet. I twist the little knob inside but the dancer remains still. My aunt places her hand on my shoulder and kisses my cheek.

  “It hasn’t worked in years. I’m afraid she might have played it too many times. Happy birthday, sweetheart. I wish your mother could be here to see what a beautiful young woman you have become.” I hug my aunt and stand up.

  “Thank you, Aunt Gwen. This means a lot to me.”

  “You’re welcome.” My aunt stands and walks me to the door.

  My phone rings as I enter my apartment and I see Greg’s name and picture flash on the screen. I’m paralyzed for a moment, not knowing if his voice will bring relief or pain.

  “Hello, Greg.”

  “Hello, Madeline. I made it here safe, sweetheart. I just checked into my room and I’m about to take a quick nap. How are you feeling today?”

  “I’m okay. Greg, I’m so sorry.” I choke on the last word as my throat clenches with tears.

  I cry for a moment into the phone, trying to pull myself together. I remind myself I wanted this, that I have already been out with Jackson, but my heart hurts for Greg and our friendship.

  “Please don’t cry, Madeline. And don’t apologize for this. It was my idea. We need this.”

  “I know, I know. I’m just a bit out of balance today. I had lunch with my aunt and that always makes me a little emotional. She gave me something of my mother’s—I wish I could show it to you.”

  “I can’t wait to see it when I get home. I should go, but my phone will always be on if you need me.” There’s silence for a minute as I wait for him to say he loves me, and I can feel it hanging between us, but he never says it.

  “Take care, Greg.” We both hang up and I look at my phone as if it holds the answer to what is happening to us. No such luck. I put down my purse and make a place for the jewelry box on my dresser. I want to know the story behind it and why the tiny dancer no longer dances. I’m staring at it when my phone chimes with a message.

  Unknown Number: We won, rookie! Can you come out and play?

  My heart is racing and my hands shake as I type back a message and add Jackson’s name to my contacts.

  Me: Just got home. Can you pick me up? What should I wear?

  Jackson: Yes I will pick you up. Horse is in the shop—I will have to bring the truck ;) We are going to celebrate with the team at a bar so wear whatever you want.

  Me: Okay, when will you be here?

  Jackson: Would it freak you out if I told you I’m in your parking lot?

  Me: What?! I need to get ready.

  Jackson: You have twenty minutes.

  Me: Says the pretty boy.

  Jackson: To the beautiful woman. I’m sure you look great. Hurry out.

  I’m grateful that I took time to blow-dry and straighten my hair for my lunch with my aunt. I run into the bathroom to touch up my makeup, since I’ve cried some of it off, and I put a little extra on to cover the redness around my eyes. I choose a short black skirt, and strip off my button-up blouse in exchange for a tight-fitting sequined tank top. A quick stop in Abby’s room and I have a sexy pair of heels to go with my outfit.

  Jackson: The anticipation is killing me. If you are not out in five I’m coming in. Ready or not.

  I leave a note for Abby and then lock up the apartment. Out in the parking lot, Jackson is leaning up against my side of the truck, looking at his phone. When he hears my footsteps he stands up and his eyes take me in, starting at my heels and finally ending at my eyes.

  “You don’t disappoint, rookie.” Jackson opens the door for me and helps me up into the seat.

  I watch him appreciatively as he walks around the front of the truck. When he climbs in and fires up the engine the butterflies take flight in my stomach, and I hold my breath as he puts his hand on my leg. Greg never did this and it thrills me the way Jackson claims me. I hope it means he feels the same urge to touch me as I am feeling toward him.

  Jackson holds my hand as we walk into the bar and students shake his hand or give him high fives as we walk by. His team is all together in the back, sitting around tall bar tables. Rob, the trainer, is here and Jackson
heads in his direction. When he sees us coming his way, a knowing smile plays at his lips.

  “Well, if it isn’t Miss Madeline. Looks like your ankle has healed nicely.”

  “When I went against everything my father and brothers have ever told me about strange men at my door and let you in, I guessed you were either going to help me out and work a miracle on my ankle or kill me. I think we’re both pretty happy with the choices made that day.” I give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “All kidding aside, thanks for that. It felt better after a few days.”

  “You’re welcome. We did each other a favor. Now I can rest easy knowing all debts have been paid.” Rob tips his beer in Jackson’s direction.

  Jackson is holding my hand again and he brings my knuckles up to his mouth and places a kiss across them. “You need another beer? I think Maddy and I are going to head up to the bar and grab a few drinks.” Rob quirks an eyebrow and looks back and forth between Jackson and me.

  “I thought it was Madeline.” Rob stretches out each syllable slowly.

  “Maybe for you, but she’s my rookie and we don’t need the formality of all those syllables. Now, please excuse Maddy and me so we can start celebrating our victory with some alcohol.” Jackson lets go of my hand and places his palm across my lower back and the warmth immediately spreads across my skin. With one last nod in Rob’s direction, Jackson guides me up to the bar.

  “What’s your poison, rookie?” His hand is still splayed across my back as we lean our elbows on the bar.

  “I have a feeling you are, Mr. Quarterback.” This public flirtation is exhilarating. Everything in my world before Jackson was so proper, but since him it has been fire and mischief and, just like the first night, I can’t wait to see what happens next.

  “I may not remember all the details of those fairy tales you girls read, but I happen to know that when the beautiful princess drinks the poison, it takes a kiss to break the spell.” Victory plays across his features.

  Before I can reply, the bartender makes her way over to us and gets us our drinks. I am sticking with beer tonight, my stomach still sick at the thought of anything as sweet as champagne.

  After paying, Jackson slides my beer into my hand and leans in close to my ear, brushing his whisker-shadowed jaw across my cheek. In a voice so low and husky it causes chills to run down my spine, Jackson whispers, “Cheers, Maddy, I can’t wait to see what I awaken when I deliver that kiss.”

  Chapter Six

  The cool beer in my hand grounds me to reality while my head feels like it’s floating. I have not even taken a sip of the cold bubbly liquid, but the heat in Jackson’s voice has shot straight to my core and the hormones that are racing through my body are giving me a feeling of euphoria. I want to push myself against Jackson and claim him here in this bar without any regard for who might see.

  I raise the beer bottle but before I place it to my mouth, I run my tongue along my bottom lip, then close my eyes, lean back and take in a slow sip. When I open my eyes again I find Jackson staring back at me, full of desire, immobile as he watches my every move.

  “I never said I was a princess, Jackson, but if it takes me choosing a poison to get a kiss from you—consider it done.”

  “Rookie, if you want a kiss all you have to do is ask. Fuck it, you don’t even have to do that.” Jackson sets his bottle down and tangles his fingers through the hair on the back of my head, tilting my face up to meet his as he crushes his lips to mine. His hand moves to brace me against him, filling me with want. I try to stay in control and think rationally, but all I can think about is the way the brush of his whiskers contrasts with the softness of his lips.

  I’m holding my beer behind his back as he kisses me with a passion I have only ever seen in movies. I lean into the kiss, pressing my breasts against him and loving the way his muscular chest is the perfect fit for my soft curves. I can feel the eyes of other patrons on us as Jackson slides his tongue along the inside of my lips, then turns my head slightly so our skin can be even closer. The kiss slows and I think he’s finished, but he brings his hand from the back of my head and splays his rough palm across my check in a move that only increases the intimacy.

  I want to wrap my legs around him, to tell him to take me home and show me all the other things I’ve been missing, but I can’t move my body with my limbs as warm and fuzzy as they feel. When the kiss slows again, Jackson moves his hand down to my waist and holds me steady until I can feel control over my own legs again. The lust pumping through my body keeps me from forming any words. Jackson’s breath is heavy and a small smile plays on his lips.

  “All right, rookie, I’m going to need you to answer some questions for me.” He leads me to a small table in a dark corner at the back of the bar, not far from his teammates but also not within hearing distance.

  I shimmy myself up onto the high stool and his eyes trail down my legs as I cross them and allow my stiletto to dangle from my foot. “Let me get this straight,” I say. “That kiss was hot, unless I was totally misreading it, but you want to stop so you can ask me questions? Excuse me while I sit here and grow increasingly disappointed in my inability to seduce you, Mr. Quarterback.” I take another swig from my beer as he eases himself onto the stool next to mine. He chuckles at my question and then uses his strong leg to pull my seat so close to him that I feel the warmth coming off of his skin.

  “Absolutely the hottest kiss I’ve ever had, rookie, and don’t think for one minute you don’t have the skills to seduce me.” Jackson sets his hand on my knee and looks into my eyes as he slowly slides his hand up my thigh and just under the hem of my skirt.

  No one is watching us now, but the thought of someone seeing him touch me like this has me squirming in my seat, wanting his hand to continue its journey up my leg.

  “I want to do many things with you, Maddy,” he whispers, and places a small kiss below my ear before kissing a trail down my neck and onto my bare shoulder.

  “So, what’s the problem?” I close my eyes and tilt my head to the side, allowing more access to my neck and shoulder.

  He bites softly into my shoulder and the sensation pierces into me, causing an ache between my legs. I squeeze my already-crossed legs together to relieve the ache but it’s not helping. Jackson uses my movement as an opportunity to slide my skirt up and inch his hand a little farther under the fabric.

  “There are actually two problems.” He continues to alternate kisses with small bites as he works his mouth back up to my ear. “The first is that if I don’t find out more about you before we take this further, it would confirm the loss of my good manners.” Jackson is making it hard to breathe or to think, but I don’t want him to stop.

  “What’s the second problem?” I whisper.

  Jackson chuckles into the crook of my neck and then looks at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “That would be the fact that I can’t keep my lips off of you long enough to get to know you. It’s not that I don’t want to—I want to know everything about you. It’s just that you overwhelm my senses so much that I want to touch you and taste you and ask questions later.” He takes a sip from his beer and I do the same. I need a minute to calm myself down before I straddle him right here and tell him to forget the questions.

  “Okay, Mr. Quarterback, I’m the rookie here. How do we solve this little problem?”

  A smile stretches across his face and he finishes his beer in one big gulp. “I’ve never done this before either, rookie. I’m a pro at the foreplay and would like to think I’m also really good at sealing the deal, but getting to know a girl… never really cared enough to do that before. I guess we’re both virgins to this part of a relationship.”

  At the mention of virginity, my cheeks must flare an embarrassing shade of red and I quickly pull away from him, looking down and playing with the label on my beer bottle to avoid eye contact. Jackson tucks his head down to meet my gaze and places his hand on top of mine to stop the attack I’m waging against the innocent label.

 
; “No way,” he says.

  Shit. Great move, Madeline, now you’ve made your inexperience obvious.

  Jackson lifts my chin so I am forced to make eye contact with him. His other hand grips mine and he pulls it to our laps.

  “No way—not possible.”

  I clamp my eyes shut and hate how the waves of embarrassment wash over me. “I’m sorry, I should have said something, Jackson, it’s just that it feels so good when you touch me that I haven’t really had the time or focus to bring up such a heavy topic. It isn’t a big deal. I totally understand if it freaks you out.”

  “Well, it’s definitely doing something to me, but I wouldn’t call it freaking out. How is this even possible? You’re smart and beautiful and unbelievably sexy. I can’t keep my hands off of you no matter where we are, and to be honest, I’m thinking about touching you even when I’m not with you. I’m having a hard time imagining how a boyfriend could ever let you out of his bed, let alone never taking you there in the first place.”

  I can’t help it; I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his, sliding one hand into his hair as I explore his mouth. It’s the first time a guy has said anything like this to me and that is not only okay, but a turn-on. For years, I’ve felt that I had to choose between intelligence and sexiness, to play down my looks so they wouldn’t take away from people’s perceptions of my intellectual ability.

  Our kiss slows again and we break apart. “Give me a minute to get my head on straight, rookie. I didn’t even know virginal college girls existed anymore.” He winks at me and I punch him softly on the arm, pretending to be offended on behalf of college virgins everywhere. He gets us another round of drinks and we sit at our table for the next few hours, asking questions about each other back and forth. I learn he’s studying business and has a younger sister; I tell him about my brothers and my wish to change the world, even if it’s done on a very small scale.