I scanned the crowded room crammed with mostly drunken frat brothers and sorority sisters. The back of a blond man about a head taller than the majority of the partygoers caught my attention. I froze, debating whether to run or approach him.
He turned and our eyes met. My feet were anchored to the floor and my heart refused to let me escape. With a curt nod in my direction, he pushed his way through the throng, ignoring the annoyed glares and angry comments. He was coming straight for me with a determined scowl on his uber-handsome face.
I swallowed and waited for him to reach me. Having a momentary panic attack he might be heading for someone else, I glanced quickly to my left, right, and over my shoulder. I couldn’t see another possible target. When my gaze turned back to him, he was staring straight at me, his blue eyes intent on me in that way that made every part of my body come alive with anticipation.
Last year, the way he was looking at me would only mean one thing—we’d soon be fucking like sex-crazed rabbits in some semipublic place and not giving a shit if anyone saw us. But I was a princess now, and everything had changed. First of all, princesses did not use four-letter words, or so my grandmother told me. Nor did princesses have exhibitionist tendencies.
I was so screwed. As the reveal date loomed closer, I worried I wasn’t princess material. I’d mess up so badly and disappoint these powerful, intimidating people who were my new family.
He came to a halt so close to me we were only separated by inches and studied me without speaking, not that we could hear each other above the din of the room.
Gently taking my elbow, he guided me outside to the covered porch. The rain had stopped, and we walked down the steps to a more private part of the lawn.
“Gage, we—”
“I nearly beat the crap out of a frat brother tonight because I thought the woman he was making out with was you. That’s how crazy you’re making me. We live under one roof and can’t possibly avoid each other no matter how hard we try. I can look, but I can’t touch, and I’m fucking tired of it.”
I had to be the strong one. I had no choice. “We already discussed this. We can’t pick up where we left off last year. Too much has happened. I’m sorry.”
“We’re not done yet, Lis. We both know it, but we’re not ready to concede defeat yet.”
We were done. We were almost out of time. The clock was running down. In a few weeks, finals would be over, and I’d be on my way to London while Gage would go whatever direction he chose. Our paths wouldn’t cross again. I’d see to it. A lump formed in my throat, and I feared I was going to cry.
I shook my head and refused to look in his eyes. I had to get out of here. Lurching backward a few steps, I wheeled around and sprinted away from him. Even more surprising, he let me go, and I didn’t look back.
Chapter 7—Alone with My Thoughts
~~Gage~~
How many times did a guy have to get turned down before he took the hint? Obviously, when it came to me, a lot. But maybe last night had been the final straw. Despite Alisa saying she didn’t want me, her body and eyes disputed her words. Yet what was a guy to do? Be a douche and keep coming on to her? I had more pride than that, or at least, the once uber-confident Gage did. This Gage was not so sure.
I told her I wasn’t giving up, but a decent guy respected a woman’s wishes, and right now my innate sense of decency and dignity was one of the few things I had left.
I drove over to Riley and Tiff’s just to get out of the house and away from Alisa, who was studying. I should be doing the same, but why bother? I wasn’t graduating anyway.
My phone rang on the way, and I pulled over to answer it. If I’d taken the time to look at the display, I’d have let it go to voicemail, but I’d been so hopeful Alisa had changed her mind and was calling me. Only it was my mother. I’d avoided speaking to the poor woman for a week, and the guilt was an ever-present blemish on my heart.
“Hi, Mom,” I said cheerfully.
“Gage, we watched your game last night. Why didn’t the coach put you in?”
Because he was trying to resurrect a dismal season by winning that last game, and Brax had been his guy, not me, but I didn’t tell my mother that. Instead, I lied, something I’d become too good at during my college years.
“I was nursing a sprain, Mom.”
“Oh, no, honey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing. How’s everyone?”
She launched into updates on my four siblings, two older, two younger. I was the consummate screwed-up middle child. My two older sisters were both married with kids and living within thirty minutes of home. Cindy was a stay-at-home mom, and Jayne was a waitress in a local diner. My two younger brothers were working on the family farm. Connor, at eighteen, had knocked up his seventeen-year-old girlfriend, and he now had three kids by the time he turned twenty-one. Jason, the baby of the family, had graduated high school and was partying his life away, barely working enough to support his lifestyle.
“What are you doing after graduation, Gage?” The question came out of left field. My mother spoke in the same tired tone she’d had since the day I’d been born. I wanted nothing more than to send Dad and her on an extended vacation, set them up for life, so Dad would never work another sixteen-hour-day plowing the fields again.
Hell, I couldn’t even guarantee my own future, let alone theirs.
“I’m going to the NFL combine, try to get drafted, and if I don’t, I’ll be walking on the Steelheads.” The combine was invitation only. The best college football players in the nation came there to wow the professional coaches and GMs with their athletic ability, football smarts, and great attitudes. An exceptional performance at the combine could assure a guy of being a high draft pick.
“What if football isn’t in your future? Never put all your eggs in one basket.”
“You have to if that’s the only basket you have. I’m not going to graduate, Mom. You know that. I messed up too much.”
“You could always go back later.” I knew what she was getting at. I was supposed to be the one who made it big, the one who got out of that small town, and the first one in the family to graduate from college. I’d been their golden child, and now I was an abject failure.
“Gage, your dad and I are proud of you, no matter what. You’ve given it your best shot.” She’d been reading my mind, as she often did.
“It’s not over yet, Mom. Don’t nail that coffin shut on my pro career. I’m still alive and kicking.” I wish the confidence in my voice was honest, but it wasn’t.
She laughed, and the sound made me feel better, even though the burden of guilt weighed me down. I didn’t deserve my parents, just like I didn’t deserve Alisa. My parents had earned my admiration and respect. The few times I’d spoken of them to so-called friends, they’d totally made fun of them being farmers, including one very hurtful article when I was a high school senior. I’d closed down after that. Fuck everyone. They could think what they wanted. I protected my parents from hurtful bullshit as best I could by keeping my private life private. I’d learned my lesson early on. Some would say I travelled in the wrong circles if my friends disrespected what my parents did for a living. I guess I did, but none of these people were lifelong friends. They were acquaintances I met on my lonely road to becoming an NFL star. Even Alisa. Maybe Alisa hurt the most.
“Gage, are you coming home after graduation?”
“Mom, I’m not graduating. I told you that.” I wasn’t enrolling in college next quarter. I’d get a job and work on upping my game and increasing my fitness for the combine.
“You’ll be home for Christmas though?”
“I can’t make it.” Not only did I not have the money to fly home, but I couldn’t ask them. They couldn’t afford it with the poor crops they’d had the last couple years. I didn’t want to go back there, defeated with my tail between my legs. I’d been a big deal in Deer Valley. Now I was nothing.
“I wish you’d reconsider.” Her voice was fille
d with disappointment, which only added to my guilt.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t. I need to go. Tell Dad and everyone hello. I love you.”
“I love you, Gage.”
I hit the end button before she could add any more guilt-inducing statements and pulled away from the curb.
I parked in front of the small house Riley lived in, not far from his parents’ home. I hoped Riley and Tiff weren’t having kinky sex in the living room. I walked up the porch stairs and listened. I could hear the TV tuned to a sports channel. Of course it was. Riley was a rookie football player, and he’d be studying every second of game film he could find.
I rapped on the door, and a few seconds later, Riley opened it. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with bare feet. I was grateful nothing else was bare.
“G-Man, come in.” Gage’s tone was placating, as if he didn’t want to upset me.
“Ry, who is it?” I heard Tiff ask from deep inside the house.
“Gage, paying a house call.”
Tiff appeared a second later, peering around Riley with concern in her eyes.
“Gage, how are you?” She gazed sympathetically at me. Obviously, she, too, knew I hadn’t played a down yesterday.
“I’m fine. Just took a drive and ended up here. I had my last college game yesterday.” The pathetic note of sadness in my voice made me cringe.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I had a team obligation.”
“No biggie. Never played a down.” That still hurt. Coach owed me at least a few minutes of play, but he’d wanted the win more than he’d wanted to make a former starting quarterback feel good about his last game with Tyee. Riding the bench hurt at the time, and it still hurt. His action felt a damn lot like a betrayal.
“Come in.” Tiff gestured, inviting me inside. “I was about to make some nachos. Have a seat in the living room. You hungry?”
“Starved,” I said, realizing I hadn’t eaten much in hours.
Riley scrutinized me in that way of his, and I slipped past him before he could see more than I wanted him to see. We sat opposite each other in the living room, and Riley muted the TV, which was replaying an earlier game.
“How are you doing?” He studied me with that watchful way of his, and concern furrowed his brow.
“My life is the absolute shits, and I have no idea what’s next.” I blurted out the truth before I’d had time to concoct a decent lie.
Riley’s eyes narrowed, and he frowned, as if deep in thought. “Are you finishing out the school year?”
“Nah. I’m going to get a job and spend my spare time working out in preparation for the combine.”
“The quarterback pickings this year are slim, so you stand a good chance of getting invited. No offense.”
“None taken. I haven’t had much playing time this year, so it’ll be tough, but having a mediocre quarterback class is a definite plus.”
“Can I help somehow?” Riley asked in earnest.
“Yeah, after your season is over, I’d be up for that. Maybe we could work out together, toss the ball around, stuff like that.”
Riley nodded, as Tiff brought out the nachos, and we dug in like a pair of starving animals.
We were quiet for awhile as we stuffed our faces. Tiff disappeared to another part of the house, leaving us alone.
Riley chewed slowly and studied me intently. “You know what you need to do?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
He gave me one of his cocky grins. “I think you need to get your shit together. Smack your whiny ass into action and start looking ahead instead of behind.”
I stiffened, allowing myself the luxury of imagining how momentarily satisfying it’d be to slam my fist into his smug face. Instead, I swallowed and admitted to myself he was right. “Yeah, I know.”
“You’re pining after Alisa. Get up off your ass, and go after her. She leaves at the end of the quarter, and I bet you’ve never told her how you feel.”
“And how the fuck do I feel?”
“You love her, and you’re running out of time.”
“Bullshit, you see what you want to see because you’re sappy in love yourself.”
He shrugged, letting the insult slide off his back. “Tell her.”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”
“First of all, she does. Second of all, what do you have to lose?”
“She’s going to England as soon as she graduates. I’ll never see her again.”
“Yeah, whatevs. I thought the same thing, but sometimes fate intervenes.”
“I have nothing to offer her. I won’t have a degree. No marketable skills. Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Riley smelled a rat, and I’d said too much.
“Yeah, I mean, nothing.”
He continued to stare at me, and I waited for him to ask, to delve beyond what I showed people on the surface.
“Nothing,” I repeated.
“You have the one thing no one else has, you have Gage Harmon.”
“A broke Gage Harmon.”
“Maybe Alisa doesn’t care.”
“Oh, fuck, are you nuts? She’s used to designer clothes, nice cars, and money not being a concern.” The bitterness smothered me in waves of anger.
“And you aren’t?”
He had me there, and he saw way more than I wanted him to see. “What do you think? Look at the POS car I drive.” I held my breath, waiting for an inquisition or worse. Much to my surprise, the expected grilling didn’t come.
“Look, G-man, you need something, I’m here.”
I’d been ready to tell him everything, but Riley didn’t ask. I suppose I had myself to blame. I’d been such a private person all these years.
“Thanks, dude, I appreciate that.”
Riley’s gaze met mine and held. I forced myself not to look away. I stood to leave, grateful to come out of this convo relatively unscathed, and sad Riley didn’t push the point.
~~Alisa~~
I shut myself in my room that evening and didn’t come out until early afternoon on Sunday. I had to eat something, as I was famished. Wayne and Easton were in the kitchen making spaghetti for dinner. As usual, Wayne had dirtied every pot and pan in the place and destroyed the kitchen. Wayne’s idea of cooking was usually Top Ramen, and I hadn’t seen any evidence Easton could cook either.
I surveyed the disaster and went into ninja bitch mode, issuing orders they dare not disobey. They dutifully did as I directed, and within an hour, the sauce was simmering on the stove, the kitchen counters were clean, and the dishes were washed.
I hadn’t seen Gage since I’d rejected him the night before. Easton mentioned he’d gotten in late and up early to work out. I didn’t ask for details. I opened the garage door off the kitchen and peered into the garage. Gage’s car wasn’t there. When I turned, I was startled to see Easton regarding me with knowing eyes.
“Looking for Gage?” he said, his expression completely innocent and his tone bland, almost disinterested, but I had the impression he was anything but.
“I—uh—I was just trying to get a head count for dinner.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was. That’s all.”
“I don’t get the two of you. You’re obviously into each other. Why pretend you aren’t?”
“It’s complicated.” I decided denying the obvious was pointless.
“Nothing is so complicated it can’t be fixed. He lost his shit last night when he thought the frat prez was making out with you in the corner. I had to physically restrain him so he wouldn’t beat the crap out of the guy.”
“I know, I saw him, and he told me.”
“Oh, yeah?” Easton frowned. “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it myself.”
“Why? Is it a violation of the bro code or something?”
He shrugged. With me on his tail, he wandered to the fridge and snagged a beer. He handed me one, which I gratefully accepted.
Easton
leaned against the counter opposite me and took a long pull on his beer. I did the same. “You’re gone mid-December, right after the quarter ends?”
I nodded in response to his question.
“Are you going to walk away and always wonder what could’ve been?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
“Take it from a guy who does know. The regrets will haunt you the rest of your life.”
“You left someone behind?”
“Yeah, I was a stupid, selfish ass, and now I’m paying for that stupidity.” He ran a hand over his face as if to wipe out painful memories. “Don’t leave here without exploring what could be.”
“Sage advice from a wise soul?” I chided and faked a smile I didn’t feel.
“Sincere advice from the guy who fucked up so badly he can’t go back and fix it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. She found someone else, and they’re madly in love.”
“That’s brutal.”
“You have no idea. How would you feel if Gage married in a year, and your door of opportunity had shut and locked?”
I’d feel like dog crap. I’d be broken-hearted, inconsolable, shattered in a million pieces, never to be put back together again.
“Think about it.” Easton squeezed my arm, then he sauntered from the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts, which weren’t the best of company.
Chapter 8—No Regrets
~~Gage~~
Monday afternoon, on a cold, crisp early December day, I pulled into my driveway. A tall, lean figure lounged against the porch railing of my rental house. Instead of driving into the garage, I put my POS Toyota in park and got out.
I hesitated. The guy looked familiar. He wore a self-confident smirk while tapping his foot impatiently. Warily, I walked to the foot of the steps and onto the porch.
Tackled in Seattle Page 5
