Mack and Jeremy nearly get into a fight. Apparently, Jeremy told Mack he needed to go back to the bus and make sure the rest of the team was okay. Needless to say, Mack was not pleased. But eventually, he kissed my forehead while I sat in the back of the ambulance, and sauntered off through the parking lot.
Jeremy then never left my side, his presence soothing and irritating at the same time. But I don’t let on about the irritation. He already feels shitty enough for leaving his keys in the car on accident.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital, though,” I say to Jeremy as he helps me into a cab. “I’m sure I’m totally fine.”
He gives me a look that makes me laugh because he looks so much like an exasperated older brother. But then I clutch my side in pain from jolting my body with laughter.
“You just got hit by a car. I’m taking you to the fucking hospital.”
I laugh again as he closes the door and goes around to climb in the other side.
“Why is everything about us so dysfunctional?” I ask him, only slightly seriously, once we are en route.
He shrugs.
“Who wants a boring life, Rach?”
“Me, Jeremy. I want a boring life.”
He smiles and reaches over to squeeze my hand, then turns his head to stare out the window.
“You know this wasn’t your fault either, right?”
He nods too quickly, and I know instinctively he’s going to tuck this away with a dozen other things that he believes he’s done to wrong me or other people he loves.
“Jeremy…”
“Let it go Rachel,” he says, softly but firmly, cutting me off. He looks over and gives me a small, insincere smile and squeezes my hand again.
I turn and look out my own window, wishing desperately that my sweet brother could instinctively know that I don’t blame him. I’ve seen the fire of self-hatred continuing to catch and grow inside of him over the past weeks.
And I don’t think my words are enough to put that fire out.
* * * * *
When Jeremy and I pull up in front of the hotel four hours later, I barely have my door open before Mack is there, reaching to support me as I climb out of the back seat.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you both for hours,” he says, his voice filled with emotions that I’m too tired to catalogue.
“My phone is still in the SUV,” Jeremy offers up as he circles the back of the cab. “Rachel’s broke in the accident.”
Jeremy steps towards me, likely to help me to my room. But Mack steps forward and puts his arm around me, using his other hand to take mine and assist me.
“I’ve got her,” Mack says, staring at Jeremy, who suddenly looks slightly unsure.
After way too long of a silence, Jeremy nods and steps back, his face looking slightly offended but resigned at the same time.
“I’ll call you on your hotel phone in the morning around 9am, okay?”
“Sounds good,” I reply. “Love you, Jer.”
He gives me a small smile, then hops into the cab and heads off, likely to pick his car up from the arena parking lot. We weren’t sure about the damage, but I don’t think it was too bad.
“Let’s get you inside,” Mack says, leading me into the small lobby.
I walk slowly, wincing with the pain. I was incredibly lucky not to have fractured or broken something, but I still have to deal with strained ligaments in my hip and leg, bruising all over the right side of my body, general soreness and the asphalt scrapes on the side of my face and arms where I hit the ground when I crashed back to the ground.
Telling the doctor that I didn’t want to take any pills is something I’m already starting to regret.
“Do you want me to walk you to your room or…” but before finishing, he trails off.
“… Or?” I ask.
He clears his throat and being so close to him I see his adams apple bob when he swallows.
“… Or do you want to stay in my room?”
His question is asked very quietly, almost like he’s embarrassed to ask it or is afraid the empty space around us will hear him. When I stop walking forward, mostly in surprise, he’s quick to explain.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay, I swear. After watching you fly into the air and not being able to go with you to the hospital, I just…” he breathes deeply and lets out a harsh exhale, “I just want to hold you close to me tonight. To know you’re really okay when you could easily have been seriously hurt.”
My heart speeds up slightly and I feel blood rush to my neck at the thought of spending the night in Mack’s room. But I know instinctively nothing is going to happen that’s too much for me. And the thought of getting to snuggle up next to him and look into his eyes before falling asleep?
What girl could resist?
“I’ll stay in your room,” I say just as quietly.
Our eyes stay locked on each other for several beats before we finally begin making our way towards the elevators that will take us to Mack’s room.
Mack’s hotel room.
He swipes us into 806 and walks me over to sit on the edge of his bed.
His king sized bed.
“Do you want a water or something to snack on?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Did you tell the girls what happened when you got to the bus?”
Mack exhales harshly.
“About that,” he says, walking over and sitting next to me. “Gina came to see me tonight, bawling her eyes out, as soon as we got off the bus.”
“What?” I ask, my face scrunching up in confusion.
“Trust me. I was confused too,” he responds, rubbing his hands over his face. “It took a while for her to form sentences I could understand, but she said it was her fault. She called your dad and pretended to be someone from the school inviting parents for the tournament. Gave him all of the details for the games.”
“Are you serious?” I ask in a whisper, shocked still by this information and unsure how to process it.
“I guess she had just hoped his being here would make you decide not to play,” he continues. “She said she had no idea anything so horrible would happen and that she was really sorry.”
I nod once and squeeze the bridge of my nose in frustration, trying to deal with this news along with the slowly increasing pain in my body.
“You okay?”
I nod again.
“I don’t want to think about Gina. I’m just really sore and tired and want to go to sleep. Can I use your shower?”
“Sure,” he responds, standing and walking over to the bathroom.
He flicks on the light and wanders in. I hear the water running and things moving around before he returns and takes both of my hands, helping me to stand.
“Take your time. Soothe your muscles. I’m sure they’re sore from the game as well.”
“Thanks Mack,” I say, before slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me.
I slowly peel off my clothes and leave them in a pile in the corner before crawling under the water and relishing the hot spray that instantly covers my body. Like every other time I take a shower, I place my hands flat on the wall and direct the water to hit my head, then trickle down my body.
I’ve often stood in this exact position and contemplated a next decision, practiced something I was going to say, or tried to reflect on an experience. Tonight is no different.
My dad hit me with a car. My brother is going through something deep. I’m probably going to have to sit out the rest of the soccer season. And I’m about to spend the night is Mack’s room.
If I’m totally honest, even though everything else in that list is important, the only thing I can think about is sleeping in Mack’s arms.
“RJ?” I hear from the other side of the curtain. “I brought you something to wear. I’ve set it on the sink, okay?”
“Thanks,” I reply, and then
I hear the door snick shut again.
After spending a bit longer letting the warmth soothe my aching body, I flip off the water and dry off. I grab the clothes Mack has left for me - a blue t-shirt and pair of gray sweats - and slowly pull them on, inhaling that delicious Mack scent that wraps around my body.
When I finally step out of the bathroom, I find Mack stretched out on the bed with his arms behind his head with the television on. But his eyes are locked on me.
I limp to the door and flip the light, leaving the room cast in just the blue hue from the screen. I walk back to the bed and crawl up from the bottom, all the while keeping my eyes glued to Mack’s.
His arms wrap around me when I get close enough, tucking me into his chest and resting his chin on my head.
“What did the doctors say about your injuries?” he asks quietly, as his hands begin to make soothing circles on my back that make me snuggle even closer.
“Some strained ligaments is the most of it, apart from the bruising and small cuts and scrapes. But the ligs are probably going to be enough for me to have to sit out the rest of the season.”
“I’m sorry, RJ,” he whispers into my hair, kissing my head.
I pull my arms out from where they are tucked into his body and wrap them around his waste. I slip them under his shirt and press them into the solid muscles of his back, kneading the tension away that I can feel in his body.
“It’s okay,” I whisper back. “I’m going to be fine.”
He pulls away just slightly so he can look down at my face, into my eyes.
“When I heard it, when I heard the car hit you and your body hitting the pavement, I thought you were dead. I know the car wasn’t going that fast, so it makes me feel like an idiot to say out loud. But that was absolutely the most terrifying moment of my life. I ran towards you and it felt like my feet were melted into the ground - I couldn’t get to you fast enough.”
He lifts a hand and places it on my cheek, sliding his thumb along my cheekbone.
“And then I saw you crumpled on the ground and it felt like my soul died. In that instant when I thought I might have lost you, I felt everything that I am begin to dissolve and float away, like my body could no longer be bothered with holding me together. And when I realized you were going to be okay, I saw how clearly and truly and deeply I have fallen in love with you. You are my everything.”
His face is so pained right now that I can’t help but stretch up and press my lips to his to try to soothe away any hurt or fear that he felt earlier tonight. Our mouths part and his tongue flicks against mine, causing the butterflies low in my belly to take flight. All I can think about is him and breathing him in and touching his body and holding him close.
“I love you,” I whisper, bringing my hands forward under his shirt and letting my palms coast over the dips and planes of the tight muscle of his abs and chest.
He lets out a light moan and twists his legs together with mine. I feel the hardness of him press against the softness of me and I can’t help but undulate my hips against him in search of some form of relief from this fire inside that has erupted out of nowhere.
“God, RJ,” he whispers in my ear as his hands slide along my hips and grip at my ass, giving him more leverage to push against me. “I want you so much.” He rolls me to my back and I grip his shirt, tugging it off over his head.
The moment his shirt is off he begins to slowly push up mine, kissing up my stomach as he goes. And when my shirt stops just under my breasts, he takes his time kissing and nipping the skin on my ribs, his tongue slicking along the underside of my right breast before going to the left and repeating the motion.
His eyes lock on mine for a moment, giving me the opportunity to direct. I give a slight nod and the shirt gets pushed farther, baring my hard nipples to the cool air of the hotel room.
And I can’t help but squirm, letting out a sharp cry of pleasure and need, when his warm mouth closes over the tip of one, licking and sucking.
“Look at you,” he whispers. “So sensitive.”
He moves to the other bud with his hand, flicking his thumb back and forth against the tip, over and over. And over.
And then suddenly he reaches between us and pulls my shirt down, re-covering my body. When I look at his face, I see his eyes are clenched tightly.
“This isn’t what I wanted to happen tonight,” he says in a voice laced with sexual tension. “I really did just want to hold you close.”
“But I thought…”
“I am in love with you, RJ. We can have sex someday, absolutely, when you’re ready. And it is going to be fucking amazing.”
He rolls slightly so he’s laying next to me instead of resting on top of me.
“But tonight isn’t the night. Not when you were hit by a car today, and there are other soccer girls in the hotel, and I’m still your coach.”
I nod and exhale a breath, suddenly frustrated with myself.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
But he shakes his head.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I loved that. Every second. But I shouldn’t have done anything other than kiss you and hold you and let you fall asleep in my arms. Because holding you close to me is the only thing these arms have wanted since the moment I met you.”
I give him a small smile and snuggle back into his arms, kissing his bare chest.
“We have the future in front of us, RJ. Just remember that. We don’t need to rush anything today.”
A few moments of silence pass before I muster up the courage to talk to him about sex. About the future and sex and us.
“I know we just did… that…” I say, my face flushing red, “… but I just want to be clear with you about me.”
He nods, his eyes focused on my face.
“I chose to wait to have sex with someone when I knew it would mean something. I appreciated, so much, that you stopped things tonight, because you’re totally right. My body fucking hurts right now,” I say, and we both laugh.
“But I don’t want you to spend tons of time racking your brain trying to make my first time some perfect candles and roses thing from a movie. I already know it’s going to hurt and be kind of awkward. And if we spend too much time thinking about how to make it perfect, I think we might both be let down.”
“Let me just stop you right there,” he says with a smirk. “I can absolutely promise you that when I’m inside you, I am not going to be let down.”
I laugh and slap my hand on his chest.
“You know what I mean!” I say with an exasperated smile.
He nods and kisses my lips.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he whispers. “It will be special, and I will take care of you. But no flowers, candles or rotating beds.”
“Oh my god,” I giggle, unable to contain myself. “Indy. You’re so ridiculous.”
His eyes light up at the use of his nickname, and he tightens his hold around my body, pulling me up so my face rests right next to his.
“Cherise was right about you,” I say to him, still giggling slightly as I rest nose to nose with him.
“What was she right about?” he asks.
“She said you’re a keeper,” I reply.
“No, I’m a sweeper. You’re a keeper.”
“Fine,” I say, laughing again. “I’m a keeper. And you’re a sweeper. You certainly swept me off my feet.”
“Oh my god, it’s too much cheesiness,” he says, shoving his face into his pillow.
It’s another fifteen minutes of ridiculous puns and silly expressions of love before we finally turn off the glow of the television and crawl under the covers together.
And when I rest my head on his chest and hear the steady beat of his heart - when I feel his strong arms wrapped tightly around me - I realize that Mack has taught me an invaluable lesson:
Any love worth keeping is worth waiting for.
Epilogue
“You can’t be serious,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You didn’t even go to Indiana. Why are you rooting for their basketball team?”
“Have I not been clear before? I’m from the Hoosier state. I’m a Hoosier forever. Indiana basketball is the only basketball that exists,” Mack replies from his place next to me on my couch.
We’re completing our March Madness brackets. I have North Carolina taking it all, and Mack has his beloved Hoosiers even though they haven’t won since 1987.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever understand him. But I’m sure having a blast figuring it out.
After the crash last November, a lot of shit in our lives changed. Some for the good, some for the bad. But we’ve taken it all in stride.
I wasn’t able to play soccer for the rest of the season, but the Athletic Director decided I could keep my scholarship to finish out the year, contingent on my helping coach the team. I thought that decision was all Mack, but apparently Gina went directly to the Athletic Director’s office to make sure he understood the whole situation with the accident. I wouldn’t say she and I are friends or anything, but her whole ‘I’m a cactus’ routine has finally fallen away and she’s not so prickly anymore. Our team didn’t win the College Cup, but we did come in fourth, which is still amazing.
Mack and I kept our distance as best as we could after our night in the hotel room. I didn’t know how we were going to manage to last until May without really spending time together or talking. But Mack solved all of that when he stepped down as the coach after our last game in December. With Jeremy’s help, and very intensely communicated support, Mack got a new position as the head coach at Occidental College. I guess MLS players have a lot more pull in the soccer world than I realized. On his last day, we went on a real date. He took me back to the Atwater Village Fun Center and I kicked his ass.
Speaking of sex (yes, I know I added that in there awkwardly, but be honest… you were curious), I finally understand what the big deal is. It was exactly like I thought it would be for me that first time. Awkward and a bit painful. But the good thing about handing my v-card to someone who loves me? We were able to talk and laugh through it a bit and adjust. It was still emotional and intimate and special. And then after the first time, we practiced. A lot. I like to think Mack’s diligence as my coach in bed has been a reflection of my willingness to be taught.
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