Under the Bleachers: A Novel

by K. K. Allen

  I don’t know why it feels good to hear someone say that, but it does.

  “I’m not him,” Zach says. “I would never, ever hurt you like that. Do you still doubt that after this week?”

  I shake my head as another tear rolls down my cheek, knowing exactly what I need to do now. “No, Zach. I do trust you. That’s why I’ve made a decision.” I swallow. There’s so much at stake now, but Zach can’t know anything else until I do this. “I’m going to talk to my father.”

  It’s Friday, the night before the scrimmage. Monica and I have spent every night this week wrapped up in each other’s arms, confessing the secrets of our pasts under the bleachers.

  It’s fitting. It’s like we’ve been living succinctly parallel lives, just waiting for our paths to finally meet. Monica is what I’ve been waiting for my whole life. I know it.

  I try to push down the ball in my throat as I imagine what her life must have been like without the man she’d adored for so long. How it must have felt to see him happy and living life with a different family. One she was never invited to be a part of. Not only was the man remarried with two children, but he’d obviously started that family while he still had another. Disgusting. No wonder Monica has such little faith in men.

  “How are you going to find him?”

  “I know where he lives,” she admits.

  And there it is. The unfinished business she’s been holding onto so tight. Everything is starting to make sense.

  “He’s the reason I moved to Washington. It’s been almost three years, and I haven’t been able to confront him yet.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready now?”

  She nods, her eyes flitting between mine as if trying to tell me something she doesn’t want to say. “I don’t have a choice. I need to let him go somehow, and confronting him is the only way.”

  “I think it’s the healthiest thing you can do.”

  “I think so too.” She sighs. “My mom is furious at me for coming here. She doesn’t want me to see him. And my sister—we still talk, but she doesn’t get it.” Monica shudders in my arms. I can’t imagine living with a secret like this.

  “Baby, I’m sorry.” My voice is raspy as the burn licks flames into the back of my throat. I’m a fucking wreck over this girl. “You’re making the right decision.” What else can I say? There’s nothing I can do or say to take that pain from her. I can love her. I want to love her, but will she let me?

  “Look at me.”

  She wipes her tears and looks up, her eyes begging for something, although I’m not sure what. It crushes me that I don’t know how to make any of this better. I’d do anything.

  “He fucked up,” I say, my voice stronger now. “And he lost the two greatest things that ever happened to him. I’m holding one of them now, and I can’t even imagine how or why he could let you go.” I shake my head. “I’m not him.” My voice cracks, and I pull her closer, planting my mouth in her neck.

  “You’re it for me, Cakes. I love you. Every single piece of you. Broken, whole, I don’t care. As much as you’ve tried to push me away, it only helped me get to know you better, and I love you. Everything about you—your cluttered apartment, your lack of cooking skills…”

  I kiss her neck again as she laughs.

  “Every laugh,” I add softly as I lean back to look in her eyes, then I touch her lips with the tip of my finger, skimming their outline. “Every word that comes out of this sexy mouth.” I swallow. “I could kiss these lips forever.”

  And then I do kiss her, and I can feel her surrender beneath me.

  Layer by layer, she allows me to peel her clothes from her shaking body and kiss every inch until I’m sliding between her legs, slow and deep. But she only lets me lead for so long before nudging me onto my back like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It is. And I can feel her response as her soft and beautiful body rides me. She might not be ready to say she loves me yet, but I feel she does and that’s enough for now.

  I shift, lifting my upper body until my back is pressed against to couch to bring us closer so I can kiss my favorite spot on her neck. As always, she smells and tastes like wild strawberries and mint. So fresh and sweet I have to stop myself from devouring her whole.

  I cup her breasts, pulling one into my mouth as I wrap an arm around the small of her waist, tugging her down so I’m filling her whole.

  She’s gasping my name and telling me she’s close.

  “Not yet, baby,” I plead, raking my fingers through her hair and gripping her neck. I watch her eyes close and feel her hips slow their pace. “Good girl.”

  I’m pulling her lips onto mine, greedily licking into her mouth as if teasing a flame with a stick of dynamite. It doesn’t take long for the rush of adrenaline to claim us. Monica trembles with her release, muscles contracting around me until my head is bursting with lights.

  I feel everything she’s giving me: desperation and passion. And then I’m filling her with my everything, because there’s no question that this is us loving each other in the most intimate way possible.

  It’s up to me to finally let go.

  What I realize now is that my fear of confronting my father is less about feeling rejected by him all over again, and more about the fact that there will be closure—whether that closure is good or bad. But I’m finally ready to handle either outcome.

  I’m no longer a teenager who needs her father to complete her. I’ve proved that I can adult just fine on my own. What I’m looking for is a way to accept my past, because until I do, I won’t be able to accept my future.

  I’ve never told a soul about falling through those bleacher steps. Because I’ve always felt like that was the moment everything in my life changed. My dad’s accident was a week later. I had just gotten out of the hospital wrapped in arm and leg casts. It was like the fall knocked me out and I woke up to a completely different life.

  Although I hadn’t planned on opening up to Zach this week about my father, it felt like the right thing to do. And it felt good to get it out. Besides, he has every right to understand why there’s push and pull on my end. Everything he feels, I feel too, but there’s still a line I can’t cross. Not until I confront the man who broke my heart nine years ago.

  I’m finally ready to trust in someone’s love. I’m ready to let Zach love me.

  I smile as I throw on my Under the Bleachers production crew shirt, ignoring the impatient pleas from Trinity and Gracie for me to hurry up while Meredith taps her foot by the door. She’s given me nothing but glares this week because she knows. Everyone knows. But at this point, I don’t care. I’m tired of hiding.

  “I just need to use the bathroom,” I lie. “I’ll meet you at the field.” Finally, they leave me be.

  It’s the last day at camp, and I’m pumped to shoot the all-day scrimmage. Everyone will be here to cheer on the kids, and then afterwards will be the ceremony to celebrate everything the kids and coaches have accomplished this week.

  But before I walk out of the room, there’s something I need to do. Let me love you, Cakes, he’d said. Tell me you’re ready.

  I grab a pencil and scribble two words on a piece of paper before folding it and shoving it in my pocket.

  I’m ready.

  I rush out the door to find my cabin mates huddled together, whispering about something. Based on their silence when they see me, my guess is that something is me. I smile at them as if I couldn’t care less—because I couldn’t—and keep walking.

  Luckily I haven’t been forced to spend much time with the gossip queens this week, what with my busy work schedule and the fact that I’ve spent every free moment with Zach. As tired as I’ve been each morning, I haven’t cared an iota. I love falling asleep in his arms every night, waking up just before dawn to scramble back to our cabins.

  “Where did you run off to last night?” Gracie calls from behind me. Her voice is causal, but I know better to assume her question i
s innocent.

  “Nowhere,” I say, my tone even with hers. “I was asleep in my bed the entire time.” My back is to them so they can’t see my smile.

  “We saw you leave with him, Monica,” Trinity says, her nasally voice grinding against my ear drums. She sounds proud of herself, as if she’s uncovered some vast conspiracy. “How long have you been seeing Zach?”

  My face heats. “That’s none of your business, Trinity. I’m not trying to be rude, but please stay out of my personal life.”

  Trinity doesn’t like my honesty. Her eyes narrow, and then she flips her hair over her shoulder. “I couldn’t care less about you. Zach, on the other hand, is our business. We get paid to know these things, so enough with the niceties. Is it serious between you two? Because if it is, it’s not something we can ignore.”

  “Stop!” Meredith cuts in. “All of you.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “No one’s going to say anything because there’s nothing going on. Right, Monica?”

  I shrug, averting my eyes.

  Meredith laughs dryly. “Of course nothing is going on. Zach wouldn’t be caught dead dating a PA with no life goals. That would make for horrible press, wouldn’t it?”

  A surge of anger rips through me, and I whip my head around to face her. “Excuse me?”

  Her mouth twists in a wicked grin. “You heard me.”

  I narrow my eyes, cueing up the darts and locking in on my target. “Not everything is a tabloid opportunity, Meredith.”

  “Oh please, calm down.” She rolls her eyes. “No one would believe you two were together, anyway.” She shoots a look at Trinity and Gracie. “Which is why we aren’t going to dig any further.”

  I wish I could believe her. “You know what? You will ignore it because it’s none of your damn business,” I snap. “You’re not here to snoop on Zach and get material for a gossip column. He’s paying you to capture the event. Do your job and stay out of our business.”

  “Zach is my business, honey. Watch your tone.”

  My body courses with adrenaline. I take a step in her direction, lowering my voice as I focus on checking my emotions. “You don’t get to call the shots in either of our personal lives.”

  She sneers. “Everyone knows Zach has a thing for his publicist. I’m afraid that’s the story we’re going to roll with. His fans are already speculating, and knowing Zach, he’ll do anything to please them. And me.”

  I don’t have a chance to retort. She pushes into my shoulder with hers and stalks off toward the field. The girls follow, flipping glances at me over their shoulders and giggling like freaking twelve-year-olds.

  As heated as I am about the exchange with Meredith, it’s not the time to dwell on it. It’s scrimmage day and we’re expecting buses to start rolling in this morning with family and friends of the kids. Everyone’s already on the field preparing for the day we’ve all been waiting for.

  I’m surprised to spot Gavin and Chloe near the bleachers, talking to an animated Zach. I knew they were coming, but didn’t expect them until later.

  “Chloe!” I squeal.

  I run toward them, throwing my arms around my best friend and hugging her until she’s peeling me from her body. I’ve missed her so much.

  She laughs. “Nice to see you too.”

  Zach moves behind me and Chloe’s eyes immediately widen and pan between the two of us. I grin. “So,” she grins. “How’s everything going?”

  I reach behind my back for Zach’s hands and wrap them around my waist. “The week has been perfect.”

  He tightens his hold and nuzzles into my neck. “Perfect, huh?”

  “Mhmm,” I say, turning to kiss his lips.

  It was just supposed to be a chaste kiss to let him know I’m not hiding this and neither should he. But he pulls me in and straightens, lifting my feet from the ground. Relief floods my body, and I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s because I’m finally letting myself fall in love. Or maybe it’s the liberating feeling of not caring who’s witness to our affection.

  I hope Meredith is watching now. I’ll deal with her wrath later. And if it gets back to Sandra, I’ll deal with that too.

  When Zach sets me down, I take the folded piece of paper from my pocket, reach around him and wedge the note between the elastic of his briefs and his skin.

  “Whoa, handsy lady!” he jokes. “There are kids here.”

  I roll my eyes and pat his waist over the letter. “Open that later.”

  He leaves me with a grin and a kiss on the head and then takes off.

  My heart feels lighter than it has in years, and I know it’s because of Zach. I watch him jog toward the approaching kids and sigh, oblivious to the stares Gavin and Chloe are giving me.

  “Does this mean you’ll have season tickets again?” Gavin’s always got jokes. I laugh and watch as his face turns serious. “Don’t you dare give them away.”

  Chloe pushes Gavin to the side and steps in front of him. “Hey, friend, care to tell me when you started sucking face with Zachary Ryan in public?”

  “About five seconds ago.” I smile. “I’ll tell you everything later. I promise.”

  She grins. “You look happy.”

  “That’s because I am.” I jump and turn toward the bleachers where the crew is setting up for the first set of interviews. “I’m gonna go find Richland.”

  My jog to the other side of the field and under the bleachers only takes a few seconds, but that’s all the time I need to spot him. Staring at the field through the bleacher steps, much like I did six years ago at Brighton’s homecoming game, it’s déjà vu.

  Standing in the end zone across the field is Coach Reynolds. My father.

  I don’t move a muscle as I watch Zach toss him the football, which lands safely in his hands. I’m frozen as I observe the celebration that follows as my heart freefalls into the pit of my stomach, landing with a solid thud.

  All this time spent pushing Zach away was out of fear that our worlds would collide before I was ready. And here it is.

  My dad moves around the field with Zach, smiling brightly and introducing himself to the excited young players as they arrive—as if he’s some sort of damn hero.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that smile in person. Even after everything that’s happened, I find it just as magnetic as ever. That smile—directed at the man I’ve fallen completely head over heels for.

  They’re walking with their arms around each other toward the bleachers now, and I realize Zach’s searching for something. Me?

  Shit.

  When they start walking toward me, I panic and start off in the opposite direction. To where, I have no idea. All I know is that I’m walking away from an inevitable confrontation.

  Five minutes ago, I was slipping a note in Zach’s waistband, ready to move forward and finally confront my father. Only then would I tell Zach the rest.

  When I moved to Washington to confront my father, I never expected three years would pass before I would work up the nerve to talk to him.

  Falling in love with Zach was never part of the plan.

  One thing is clear now: I’m not ready. For any of it.

  It’s easier than I expected to hide from Zach and my dad the entire day. At one point they step under the bleachers to record an interview, and I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. No one questions it.

  As soon as the games are done, the award ceremony begins, and Richland points for me to stand on the side stage. “I’d rather hang back here,” I argue.

  “What’s up with you today?” he asks. “It’s not a choice. I need you on the side stage with Buddy. Go.”

  I groan and follow Buddy and his camera, doing my best to use him as a shield. The peculiar sideways glance he gives me tells me he finds my behavior strange. Doing my best to appear normal, I stand back, jotting down time codes and listening for cues in my headset.

  Everything is going smoothly unti
l the players pass by us with Coach Reynolds leading the pack. I duck behind Buddy, and he eyes me strangely. “You are extra weird today.”

  I just need to get through this day.

  Not long after, the event officially kicks off and Zach takes the stage to give his opening speech. For a few minutes, I get so wrapped up in all the excitement I almost forget my dad is here. That is, until Zach calls him up onto the stage.

  “This week has been about many things,” Zach says into the microphone, looking out over the crowded bleachers. Richland mentioned they counted over fifteen hundred attendees today, not including media. That’s got to make Zach happy.

  “It’s about stepping out from under the bleachers, standing up, and leading when you’re on and off that field,” Zach says, scanning the audience.

  “I think we’ve all learned a lot this week. I know I have. And I’d like to share something a little personal if that’s okay. Is that okay?”

  Everyone cheers, including the young players sitting scattered around the field and everyone sitting in the bleachers.

  “Most of you know Coach Reynolds, right?”

  More cheers.

  “For the last four years, he’s taken Seattle through two Super Bowls and a division win.”

  Still more cheers erupt from the stands.

  “But Coach Reynolds and I go way back. I knew him before I even moved to Seattle, back when we both lived in Dallas.”

  Knots form in my stomach as Zach motions for my dad to come up to the stage.

  “When I was growing up, I was a scrawny kid. You know the kind: full of dreams, but with none of this.” He holds up his arm and flexes, causing a roar of laughter to break through the crowd. I smile, unable to help it.

  “Unfortunately, there was a kid at my school who thought it would make him feel better to pick on me because of it. He tormented me. I sat alone during lunch every day. I’d hide under the bleachers to watch the games, because you better believe I wasn’t missing a single one.” He grins and puts a hand on my dad’s back. “I lived in fear. But guess what happened next?” He pans the crowd.