Playing at Love

by Ophelia London

  “Romantic,” Tess said, pulling back a little smile.

  Jack smiled, too, but it quickly disappeared. “I was ready for our night together—prepared,” he corrected. “But I knew nothing was foolproof and suddenly, I couldn’t go through with it.” He exhaled a bleak chuckle. “Can you imagine, a sixteen-year-old high school quarterback being afraid of having sex on the beach with the most beautiful girl in the world?”

  Tess felt tears prickle behind her eyes; she didn’t know where they were coming from, or why.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” Jack said. “I couldn’t talk to my father, and I knew my brothers would just tell me to get over it. It was cowardly and unforgivable, but I just took off.”

  “Took off?” Tess blinked. “Where?”

  Jack shrugged, staring into the distance. “I don’t even know. I just started running. The second I stopped moving, I saw your face. I heard your voice and I could smell you. So I kept going.”

  “You ran away from me?” She rose to her feet, taking a few steps away from him. She heard Jack following behind. “I waited for you. For hours.” After she swallowed down the hurt, her throat burned with anger, and she swung around. “I loved you, too, you jackass!” she shouted, right in his face. The towel slid off her shoulders as she stepped forward and shoved him in the chest. Hard. Jack stumbled back. “Why did you do that?”

  Jack frowned. “I just said why. I was…scared—”

  “You should’ve told me that, Jack. We didn’t need to have sex if you didn’t want to, but you should have talked to me. Not just disappeared.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Tess scoffed, ignoring the regretful look in his eyes. “We made plans, Jack. For after the summer. Do you remember that? We were going to stay in touch, stay together. And then you bailed without a word?”

  Tess waited for any further explanation. When it didn’t come, she felt like screaming.

  “Jeez, Jack. I cried for weeks.” She shoved him again, harder this time. She remembered how she’d felt that night. Totally hurt and humiliated. She wanted to take that teenage boy and shake him by the shoulders for being so thoughtless. “It wasn’t even about sex,” she added. “You broke my heart. You broke my trust. Do you know what that did to me? I couldn’t trust any guy after that. Not for years.”

  When she went to push him again, he lurched forward and grabbed her arms. For a moment, they just stared at each other in silence. Tess was breathing hard, adrenaline making her heart race.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack repeated. “Tess…I…”

  A second later, he pulled her in and she crashed against his bare chest. She didn’t struggle when his arms went around her, hugging her tightly.

  When he whispered her name again, Tess felt his breath on her skin.

  Despite the irrationality, anger turned to sadness, and Tess was blinking back tears from fifteen years ago, crying for the girl she used to be—the girl who’d been betrayed by the first boy she trusted with her entire being. When she inhaled a shaky snivel, Jack squeezed her tighter. And suddenly, something inside her woke up.

  She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead into the darkness. She was thinking reasonably enough to know her judgment was hanging by a very thin thread. She had forgiven him long ago, or at least found some sort of closure. But how could she trust him again? She wasn’t a glutton for punishment—once she was burned, she wasn’t in the habit of going back for more.

  But that was logic. When Jack’s hands started moving, rubbing circles over her bare shoulders, Tess wasn’t thinking logically anymore. She didn’t have her anger as a shield, either. That was out of her system, and there was nothing vindictive between them now. When he dipped his chin and she felt his breath on her neck, her entire body trembled—and it wasn’t from the cold. Rational or not, wise or not, Tess felt herself slipping, wanting. It would be so easy to give in. No one would know but them. It would be one night—the night they should’ve had all along. A night the universe owed them.

  His mouth moved to her ear, and his light touch made her insides fill with butterflies, warmth, and anticipation. As that heat spread through her body, she knew she’d have to make a decision quickly—or it would be made for her.

  …

  It took just about every ounce of strength in his body, but somehow Jack was able to pull his face away from her neck, from the smell of her soft skin. He looked down at her; her blue eyes were twinkling brighter than the water they had just been playing in. And the way she was gazing up at him, so beautiful, so willing. It made every muscle in him ache.

  “Tess,” he said as he unleashed his firm grasp from around her back. When he rested his hands on the tops of her shoulders, she didn’t move away.

  “Yes?” she whispered, causing his stomach muscles to tighten even more.

  Jack swallowed and stared into her lovely, expectant face.

  “I want you to understand something,” he said, brushing his hands down her arms, stopping at the curves of her elbows. “Months later, after I fully realized what I’d done—how I not only ran out on you that night, but also on our future—it killed me.” He let his hands slide all the way off her arms. “Just like it’s killing me now. I want this. But you know we shouldn’t. Our jobs…”

  Jack didn’t bother to add that having a relationship might jeopardize his chances with Jenna’s custody arrangements. Not that tonight was about starting a relationship. In fact, neither of them had said anything about it. In Jack’s mind, tonight was about a do-over, fulfilling a single act that was unfinished.

  Before he had the chance to voice that thought, Tess dropped her chin and nodded over and over, almost as if she were trying to convince herself of something. When she looked up, she was biting her lip, her arms folded across the front of her thin bathing suit. The regret in Jack’s chest jumped a notch.

  “I know,” she said, her voice filled with what sounded like the same regret he was feeling. “I should go.”

  Jack felt like a stone-cold idiot as he watched her leave. But what was he supposed to do? Forget his responsibilities? Forget everything and call out to her? Sweep her lovely body up into his arms? Drag her into the deep end so they could finish what they started?

  When Tess stopped at the locker room door and turned back to him, Jack clenched his jaw and took a slow, deep breath through his nose, fighting back every natural urge.

  “Good night,” he said, lifting a hand to wave before he did anything he would regret.

  “Good night, Jack,” Tess replied. “And…” She seemed to be thinking about her next words. “Good luck at the game on Friday.” Then she was gone.

  Jack stayed at the pool for another hour, sitting on the edge with his feet in the shallow end. He hated to admit it, but, after tonight, things were even more complicated.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tess stared through the window, her lazy gaze caught somewhere between the bleachers and the playing field. Her focus was finally pulled when the football players took the field for another Friday night game. While scanning the sideline, she fingered the charm on her necklace, her mind a million miles away from where it should be.

  What had possessed her to go to the pool Tuesday night? She could’ve simply called Jack’s office phone or even sent an e-mail to apologize and thank him for helping her at the park. But no, she’d had to traipse over to the gym, get half naked in the water in the middle of the night, and then… She sighed. And then she’d had more fun with Jack Marshall than she’d had in a very long time.

  But it wasn’t the fun she was thinking about as her eyes zeroed in on one figure pacing the sideline. Tess finally understood why Jack hadn’t shown up that night all those years ago. The memory still stung, but she wasn’t hurt anymore—because she’d seen the look in Jack’s eyes when he’d told her about Lisa and about his fears. The sixteen-year-old Jack had had his whole life in front of him; he was right to be cautious back then.

  But they weren’
t sixteen anymore.

  Tess jumped when she heard the crowd erupt. Had someone scored already? She glanced at the scoreboard. Yes, there had just been a touchdown, but not for Franklin. They were losing by six now; seven, after the extra point. Tess stared at the boys in blue down on the field, an odd, nervous lump in her stomach for them. Yes, she needed the music program to be saved more than anything. But a part of her didn’t want Jack’s team to lose.

  Tess smiled politely and waved to Rick Duffy, who was a few seats down the row from her in the press box. After consulting the play clock, she went in search of Penny, finally finding her standing outside the restroom.

  “Penny?”

  The girl whipped around. The startled look on her face made Tess smile. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure.” Penny nodded, tucking and re-tucking hair behind her ears a bit maniacally. “Fine.”

  “Nervous?” Tess asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “No! Well, maybe just a little. Tonight’s song is a lot harder.”

  Tess nodded in understanding. Just two days ago, she’d not only given her a new song, but arranged a double-mixed quartet to back up Penny instead of the whole choir. It would make a much more intimate sound and would be authentic to the song. Plus, it would sound so completely amazing. The group involved had practiced it about fifty times, but it didn’t really come together until the last five or six run-throughs. When it did, though, it sounded incredible.

  “I know,” Tess said, leading Penny down the stairs to meet up with the other performers. “Remember what I told you about picturing your audience in their underwear.”

  Penny giggled. “If I start laughing and can’t stop, it’ll be your fault.”

  “Don’t laugh when you’re out there, Penny. Nothing’s worse than that.”

  But Tess couldn’t have been more wrong.

  …

  Jack knew something wasn’t right probably before anyone else on the field. His blocking back, Reynolds, wasn’t lined up correctly. The kid was relatively new at punting, and since he was inexperienced, Jack knew it was causing him unnecessary nervousness and keeping him from thinking on his feet. If the kids weren’t lined up perfectly, Reynolds didn’t know how to adjust.

  It was a disaster waiting to happen…and then it happened.

  The sight of the pile of bodies that lunged for the punter could almost be called comical, if not for the fact that Reynolds had just muffed the ball on their own forty-five yard line. Franklin was now faced with digging themselves out of a thirteen-point hole with three minutes on the clock. When Jack turned to look at the stands, they were half empty. The fans were packing it in already. Then he saw Tess, sitting on the bleachers next to Mackenzie. He was surprised that she was still there. He’d heard about what had happened at the halftime show and wondered why she wasn’t off consoling her choir. She must have seen him notice her because she lifted a hand and extended her fingers. Not an actual wave, but still, it made Jack feel better.

  “Williams, line up,” Jack said after the final buzzer solidified their defeat.

  “Nah,” the QB said, taking off his helmet. “Don’t wanna.”

  Jack put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “You’re this team’s captain,” he said in a low voice. “Now line up and show ’em how it’s done.” After a moment, Williams nodded begrudgingly, then led the line of blue jerseys to the middle of the field to slap hands with the team that had just beat them. Of course Jack hated to lose—and he would never voice this aloud—but he was proud of his boys. Citrus Heights was a pretty great team, but Franklin had tried. They’d even gotten an interception. But it wasn’t enough.

  Jack wished he could brush himself off and tell himself, Well, ya win some, ya lose some, but his situation wouldn’t allow for that. After three games, his team was now 2-and-1. Not where he wanted to be.

  “Good game,” Jack said, shaking hands with the opposing team’s coach. “I’ll be keeping an eye on that Mitchell of yours. Looking good.” Politeness under fire wasn’t Jack’s strong suit, so it was good practice for him to converse with the other coaches, especially the ones who clobbered him. With that chore done, he turned to head for the locker room, torn between cheering up his team or raking them over the coals just because they would be expecting it.

  “Jack?” someone said from behind him.

  When Jack turned to the voice and saw who was standing before him, he started laughing, instantly feeling sixteen years old again.

  Chapter Twelve

  After the disaster last night, Tess was going to need some major moral support. So she hopped in her car and zoomed down the road toward her parents’ house. Her newspaper hadn’t arrived yet, but her parents’ always landed at the crack of dawn. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to read it alone.

  Last night’s program had started off fine, but when Penny forgot the lyrics and then dropped the mike, it all went downhill from there. Tess wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard a couple of people actually booing from the stands. They were probably some of those diehard football fans, or maybe a pack of the students responsible for sewing the choir costumes together then stringing them up the flagpole after the football helmets turned up on the roof of the gym. This pranking business was getting out of hand. Tess needed to have a serious talk with her classes on Monday.

  As she rounded the corner in front of her parents’ house, she noticed that Charlie’s broken-down Chevy Impala was pulled out, blocking her usual space in the driveway. “What an eyesore,” she grumbled as she was forced to park at the curb instead.

  “Mom? Hello?” she called, opening the front door. “Anyone home?”

  “In here.”

  “Charlie?” Tess said, walking toward the voice coming from the kitchen. “What is your piece of crap car doing in the middle of the driveway? You need to put it out of its misery and sell it for parts.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  Tess nearly tripped over her own platform flip-flops when she saw Jack sitting alone at the breakfast bar in her mother’s kitchen, wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt with Grizzlies Football printed across the front. His dark hair had a sexy weekend mussed look. Tess felt her toes curl.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Eating pancakes,” Jack replied, displaying a fork. “Two helpings.”

  “Why?”

  Jack took a bite. “Your mother said I look too skinny.”

  “No.” Tess moaned in frustration. “What are you doing here in my parents’ home?”

  “I was invited.”

  “By whom?”

  Jack wiped his mouth with a napkin then pulled back a grin. “Your mother.”

  “Jack.” Tess couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I’m about to kill you. Now tell me, why are you alone in this kitchen?”

  “Because I was looking for the paper in Dad’s office.”

  Tess whipped around. “Charlie.” She gulped in air, quite through with surprises for one morning. Her brother was wearing a khaki T-shirt and a pair of old combat pants. Typical Saturday wardrobe for the soldier on leave.

  “Why do I feel like I’ve just been dropped in The Twilight Zone?” Tess said, looking at Jack and then at Charlie. “Wait.” Tess felt her eyes go wide. “Did you say you got the paper? Did you read it? Let me see!”

  When she went to grab for it, Charlie held it over his head, out of his sister’s reach. “Hang on now,” he said. “Be polite. We have a guest.”

  “Charlie,” Tess warned, staring him in the eyes. “Give me the paper.”

  “Nope,” he said. “Since we’re all here, I’ll read it aloud.”

  Tess glanced at Jack, who put down his fork and stood up, looking just as anxious as she did. Well, at least they’d both sucked—even though that didn’t make Tess feel any better.

  “Fine,” she finally said, folding her arms. She sensed more than saw when Jack moved to stand by her side. Maybe he felt like they were facing a firing squad to
gether. When she took another glance his way, he nodded at her. That simple gesture shouldn’t have made her feel so calm.

  Charlie rolled out the paper and quickly found the article. Tess’s stomach tightened when Charlie cleared his throat and began to read. Like the previous week, Rick Duffy reported on the first two quarters of the game before getting around to halftime. Something about the quarterback and the ball-holder…Tess didn’t really understand. When she heard some kind of low moan come from Jack, she sneaked a glance at him. She could see that he was clenching his jaw. By this, she guessed that whatever Rick had written was unexpectedly negative. Tess found it a bit strange that she felt no pleasure in seeing Jack like that.

  “When Franklin High’s songbird Penny Armstrong took to the field…” Charlie read.

  Tess realized that she was wringing her hands, so she dropped them to her sides. The review was pretty harsh but it could’ve been worse. At least Rick hadn’t noticed that Penny was crying at the end of the performance and had bright-red lipstick on her teeth.

  “‘So as far as this reporter can see, after two weeks, the arts and sports programs are still neck-and-neck.’” Charlie looked up. “And that, my friends, is all he wrote.” He dropped the paper on the table.

  Tess made a mad dash, but Jack was there a split second before her. After a brief game of shoulder-shove, they reread the article in silence. Nothing new jumped out at Tess—although Rick didn’t have to rip on her song choice so savagely. When she read it a third time, she paid more attention to what he’d written about the game. She guessed he’d been plenty brutal.

  “Well, at least we’re at a level playing field,” Tess observed. “We both pretty much blew it this week.”

  “That’s an unfortunate truth,” Jack agreed. “I didn’t catch the halftime show, but surely this girl of yours wasn’t really a…” He glanced down at the paper, running a finger along the column. “‘An uncomfortable bundle of nerves who’s way out of her depth.’” He lifted his eyes. “And you had her sing Backstreet Boys?”