by Ann Garner
“He would. I heard that he and Jacob have become good friends.”
I can’t stop the groan that bubbles out. “Holy hell, it’s crazy. They’re like long lost soul mates or something. It’s ridiculous.”
“Are you coming back to the apartment tonight?”
Since showing up on Jacob’s door at two in the morning last week I had spent only one night at the apartment, and Jacob had been with me. Something had shifted between us, though neither one of us had spoken it out loud. I was afraid to say anything. Terrified that speaking the words that burned in my throat every time I was around him would send him screaming in the opposite direction.
Sometimes though, sometimes I would find him watching me, and I would swear that he had the same hesitancy that I had. I thought I could see that his feelings for me matched mine for him. All those weeks ago when I had tagged along with Kelsey to the frat party I had been looking for an escape, a few hours where I wasn’t defined by a broken relationship.
What I’d gotten was so much better.
“His house is throwing a party tonight so we’re going to crash there.”
“How shocking.” The tone of Delaney’s voice indicates that it is in fact not shocking at all. I stick my tongue out before taking another drink of my coffee.
“Come on, bitch. I’m dumping your ass off at the apartment and then I have big plans.”
Delaney smirks. “Your plans include getting Jacob naked.”
“Are you seriously going to tell me you don’t have similar plans with Cole?” I frown as the thought fully registers in my head. “Never mind, I’m erasing that entire line of thought from my head.”
Delaney just laughs as we make our way outside. Even though it’s December, it’s unseasonably warm today. Not slapping on a bikini and heading to the lake warm, but perfect for what I have planned this afternoon. We’re halfway to my car when Jacob catches up with us. His hand slips around my waist, pulling me up against him. He chuckles softly when I stumble, hugging me tighter against him as we move. “Whoa there, Pixie.”
“I thought I was going to meet you at the house in a couple of hours.”
“Couldn’t wait.” His fingers link through mine just before he shoots a smile Delaney’s way. “Hey, Del. Done with finals?”
“Just.” She’s still finding her way with Jacob, but she doesn’t tense up in his presence, and she doesn’t take the instinctive step away from him as she would have before. “I hear you have big plans this afternoon.”
“So I’m told.”
My fingers tighten against his as I think of the football I have tucked in the back seat of my car. I have no idea how he’s going to react to my little plan, and no idea if my little plan is going to work. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night in the hotel room, how empty he’d looked, as he told me about the accident. He’ll never have his mother and Lacey back, but maybe I can help him get football back.
“I still need to run Del home and pick up my overnight bag.”
Jacob lifts our hands, pressing a kiss along the back of mine. “Can I tag along?”
“Of course.”
We’ve reached my car, and the three of us climb inside, Jacob keeping up a steady stream of conversation though neither Delaney nor I are particularly engaging. I can’t stop worrying about what he’s going to say, how he’s going to react. I hadn’t stepped in with Grant. I had let him avoid, and we had trudged along as if there was nothing lingering in the dark between us.
I couldn’t do that again. I couldn’t pull the covers over my head and pretend everything was peaches and cream in the world of Jacob. Because no matter how well he functioned, how happy he seemed, I knew that it wasn’t true. He was letting the guilt he felt over the death of his mother and Lacey overshadow everything else inside of him.
“Grace?”
I blink back into the moment, to find Jacob watching me closely. I’m parked in front of my apartment building and I have no recollection of getting there. Pretty damn scary considering I’m the one behind the wheel.
“You alright, Pix?”
“Yeah. Let me just run up and grab my bag and we can get going, okay?”
Thirty minutes later I pull up to the small park near campus. Despite the warmer weather, the parking lot is still empty, much to my relief. I reach behind the seat, pulling the small bag I’d packed into my lap. Jacob is just watching me, waiting for me to say something. I smooth a strand of hair behind my ear before saying “Do you remember a few weeks ago when we were at your dad’s party?”
There is just barely a subtle shift of emotion on his face. A tiny loss of light in his eyes, a tightening of his jaw, both indicators that he remembers the night well. Rubbing my incredibly damp hands along the thigh of my jeans, I clear my throat softly. “You told me that your mother loved watching you play. That it made her happy because it made you happy.”
“Grace.” There is a warning in his voice, but I ignore it and barrel on.
“She would hate this, Jacob. She would want you to be happy, and playing football makes you happy.”
“You make me happy.”
I arch an eyebrow. “And there’s a limit to how much happy you can have? When that kid wanted you to throw the ball? You wanted to. I could see it. You wanted to be out there with them.”
“I told you I can’t throw any more.”
I reach into the bag in my lap and pull out the football. “I think you can. If you’d just let yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong, you need to stop punishing yourself.”
He stares at the football in my hands. His voice is low when he says, “I chose him, and football, over them.”
“Jacob, your decision to stay there and practice is not the reason they got in that car.”
“Yes it is. We would have been home, all three of us, had I just done what I’d promised.”
“Or you would have been in the car with them.” I couldn’t help the little bite that was in my voice. “And you would have died right along with them!”
Silence fills the car, tension sliding in along behind it. I grip the football tightly between my hands, the laces digging into the palm of one hand. “But you weren’t in the car, Jacob. You didn’t die, and I don’t think your mom or Lacey would want you to act like you did. In fact, I think your mom would be pissed that you gave up something you loved out of guilt.”
“I’ve tried, Grace.”
Smiling, I tell him, “I don’t want you to try, Jacob. I just want you to play. Come play football with me.”
I wait, holding my breath and chewing on a fingernail until he reaches over and grabs the football out of my hand. He palms it, fingers spreading over the leather. I can see his fingers flex, digging into the football, before loosening again.
“I’ll probably suck.”
“So what?” I lean over to drop a kiss on his lips. “We’re just playing for fun, Jacob. Not to win a national championship.”
Despite the warmth, the light wind that whips through the trees is cool, causing me to tug my sweatshirt down over my hands to try and keep them warm. Jacob is spinning the ball in his hands, looking off into the distance. I rub my covered hands together. “So, the only problem with my plan is that I can’t catch a football to save my life.”
Jacob laughs. “That is a problem.”
“Just throw the ball, handsome. I’ll figure something out.”
Before I can even take a step, Jacob drops back. He plants his feet his right arm drawing back, his eyes trained on something in the distance. I can see him take two deep breaths, his chest rising and falling with them just seconds before his arm sails forward. The fluidity of the moment is beautiful. The football is an extension of him, a part of his arm that detaches and twirls into a perfect spiral that launches across the field in front of us.
I don’t know how far the ball goes, don’t know where it lands, because I can’t take my eyes off his face. I already thought him beautiful. I’ve enjoyed the light in h
is eyes when he’s happy or laughing. Nothing compares to the look of utter elation on his face as he releases the ball.
In that moment, he redefines beautiful.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Jacob pushes opens the front door and I slither inside, letting my body brush up against his as I do. He shoots me a look letting me know he knows exactly what I’m doing. I wink as I wrap my fingers around his. We can hear the murmur of voices coming from the back of the house. Yanking on Jacob’s hand I pull him up against me, loving how easily he slips his arms around me. I tilt my head back, resting my chin on his chest so I can meet his gaze straight on.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask him. His arms tighten slightly around me. “You’ll be okay with Grant here?”
“You’re here.” He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re here with me. That’s all that matters, Pixie. “
“Right where I want to be.”
He smiles, letting his hand brush down my hair again before he places a quick, unsatisfyingly short kiss on my lips. “All right. Enough of the sappy stuff, let’s go eat pizza and drink beer as quickly as possible so we can get the hell out of here.”
Bouncing up on the tips of my toes I brush my mouth against his one more time, shivering in delight as I let my tongue smooth across his bottom lip before pulling away. “Sounds good to me,” I tell him before turning to head toward the voices.
I should have known this was a bad idea. I did know this was a bad idea. I never should have ignored my gut instinct and given in to my brother.
“I know she told me there was nothing there, but when we kissed I felt it.” Grants voice tumbles out of the kitchen, booming like he’s speaking into a megaphone to fill the entire fucking house. My eyes slide closed at his words, and I feel Jacob tense up next to me. I feel the tension in his freaking fingers right before they drop away from mine.
I turn to him immediately. “Jacob,”
“No.” The word snaps out of him. “I want to hear what else he has to say.” His jaw looks like it is made of stone, just like my heart as it sinks to the bottom of my stomach. I should have told him. I should have told him. Why the fuck hadn’t I told him?
“I know she’s with Jacob, but I swear, Holden, for a second it was like nothing had ever changed between us.”
I hear a noise, a strange careening noise that pierces through my brain for several seconds before I realize the sound is coming from me. Jacob has turned away from me, so all I can see is the solid line of his back, muscles locked in anger.
“Please,” I gasp out the word, reaching out for him without allowing my fingers to actually touch him. “Please, Jacob let me explain. It isn’t what he’s saying.”
“It doesn’t matter what he’s saying, Grace.” His voice is every bit as hard as the lines of his body. “It matters what you didn’t say.”
They’ve spilled out of the kitchen, but none of them are saying anything. The tension filling the room is palpable. I reach out again, letting my hand curl around his forearm, but he yanks away from me, taking another step back.
“I told you I wasn’t going to share, Grace.”
Oh God, oh God, Oh God. How am I supposed to fix this? I need to fix this. “You aren’t. You don’t have to. Grant doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s just you, Jacob.”
His eyes are like shards of ice when they meet mine. “Then why didn’t you tell me? That’s all you had to do, Grace, just tell me the truth.”
“I’m telling you the truth now. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Now it’s too late.”
Then he’s gone. Out the door and out of my life and just gone like he was never even there. Only he had been there, and now he wasn’t. Watching the spot where he had been standing just moments before, I feel the air seep out of my lungs like a balloon being deflated.
I can’t breathe. There is nothing there. No way I can pull air into my lungs. Pain settles in my chest, worsening as I try to suck in the air I know I so desperately need.
“Grace,” Ally’s soft voice echoes in my ear. “Take a deep breath.”
“Can’t,” I gasp. “Can’t breathe.”
Her hand rubs circles on my back. “Okay, it’s oaky. You’re having a panic attack. Let’s focus on pulling air in and letting it out okay. One breath at a time. You ready?”
She pulls in air next to me, I can hear the sound as she sucks it in. I open my mouth to try and do the same, but my throat locks up and nothing happens.
There is nothing there.
“Focus, Grace.” Ally’s voice softens even more. “Take a deep breath.”
I open my mouth, desperately sucking air in. It burns as it fills my lungs. “He’s gone. He left me.”
“I know, baby, I know.” Her voice is low, the words whispered softly in my ear as she’s moving me. Guiding me toward the couch with slow measured steps. I sink on the cushions, my hand still clasped in Ally’s. She continues to rub my back, her hand moving up and down in a way that I’m sure is supposed to sooth me. “He wouldn’t even listen.”
“He will. Just give him some time, Grace.”
“No he won’t. I promised. I made a promise and I broke it.” My tear soaked eyes narrow as they land on Grant. “You made me break it.” The pain slithers away, seeping out of my body as the anger fills me. “I told you. I told you I didn’t love you. That I wasn’t in love with you. You didn’t listen.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck your apologies.” I snap out the words. “Fuck you and your fucking apologies.” I’m across the room and standing directly in front of him in seconds. “This is your fault. All of it. The entire fucking situation. You decided to be the hero and break up with me because you were too much of a pussy to man up to your insecurities.”
“Grace, that’s enough.” Holden’s voice bursts through the haze of anger that surrounds me.
“It’s not!” I cry. “It’s not enough. He did this.” I shove my finger into Grant’s chest. “You walked away, and you stayed away. You stayed away the entire time I cried over you. You screwed your way down sorority row while I waited for you to come to your senses and come back to me. But you didn’t. You didn’t come back. So I moved on. I moved ahead, and you couldn’t stand it. The second it looks like I’m going to be happy you do everything you can to screw it up.” My finger jams into his chest with every word. “Congratulations, Grant. You win. He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” Grief swamps me as the words tumble out. He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. How can he trust me again? Why would he trust me again?
“I didn’t want this, Grace.”
“Ha! Don’t bullshit me.” My head is shaking, moving back and forth as I stumble away from him. “I don’t want to see you.” I whisper. “I don’t want to look at you, or breathe the same fucking air as you.”
“I’m so sorry, Grace.”
“Sorry. You’re so sorry. It’s the same thing. All the time. Stop being sorry, Grant. Stop doing things that you have to apologize for. That’s what I want. I want you to stop doing things that you have to apologize for. I’ve told you they don’t mean anything. They don’t. They mean less.”
Cole and Delaney are standing in the doorway to the kitchen. I let my gaze zero in on Delaney. She’s watching me with something akin to pity in her eyes. “Can I get a ride?” I force a laugh out. “Mine left without me.”
When Grant broke up with me I cried. Copious amounts of tears to the point that I was sure there was absolutely no water left inside of me. I felt lost; confused that everything I’d planned for my future was falling apart around me. Because Grant was the only thing I thought I had secured, that I didn’t question, and then he’d walked away from me. Seemingly without a backward glance. Then I’d drifted, moving from one moment to the next while I’d waited for him to realize what a mistake he’d made.
The first morning after Jacob left me standing there, I can’t describe how I’m feeling. Ther
e’s this emptiness that seems to have taken up residence inside of me. A cavern of nothingness that fills every square inch of me.
I’m not sure how to fill it, how to cover over the hurt and move on.
There are no tears.
None.
I didn’t call him last night. I’d known I wouldn’t get anywhere, not then. He’d needed the time to process, to think things through, and please God, come to the realization that this wasn’t as bad as he thought.
After spending the majority of the night staring at my ceiling, the bruising under my eyes had deepened. I’m primed to be an extra on The Walking Dead. No time in makeup necessary.
I don’t know what to do.
No clue what steps to take next to put things right between us.
Rubbing the heel of my hand over my heart, I stumble out of the bathroom and back into my room. I feel drunk. It’s the only way I can think to describe the heavy feeling that swirls inside of me. I’m drowning in a tidal wave of emotion I can’t pin down. I curl up on my bed, yanking my covers up and around me, and run my fingers over my cell phone.
It’s rung several times in the last few hours. It’s chimed as well, the little noise indicating an incoming text. But none of the calls or the texts had come from Jacob, and his were the only ones I wanted. I brush my finger over the screen, opening it up and scrolling through to find his name.
I hesitate for just a second, because I know he isn’t going to answer. I know it isn’t going to be that simple, and I’m just not sure I can take the rejection that I know is coming.
I push the call button, watching as the tiny white word across the screen flips from dialing to counting the seconds the call has been connected. I push the speaker button, listening to the rings echoing through my room. One, after the other, they roll on and on until his voice mail picks up. I listen to his message, reveling in the sound of his voice. His voice fades, and the beep sounds and I can think of nothing to say besides, “Please.” The whispered plea spills out. “Please, Jacob.”
There’s a knock on my bedroom door as I drop the phone back on my bed. I call out a soft “Come in,” just seconds before the door opens and Delaney sticks her head in. She looks worried. And sad. I’m not sure which is worse.
