First Position

by Prescott Lane

She held the spoon in the air, then shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

  Steven walked to the refrigerator and reached for a beer. It was mid-afternoon, but drinking seemed the best and only thing to do.

  “Get me some whipped cream out of there!”

  Steven grabbed a beer and whipped cream and walked to the table. “I just talked to Mason.” Steven placed the whipped cream in front of her and sat down. He popped the top of his can and stroked her back. “He’s caught back up with Emory.”

  Olivia put down her spoon. “Oh my God! Good for him.”

  “Yeah.” He took a swig.

  “From everything I’ve heard about her, she sounds terrific. I hope things work out this time.” She sprayed whipped cream all over the ice cream still inside the carton. Steven watched her curiously, then took a long swig. “I’m just glad that he’s done with that whore Alexis.”

  “Jesus, Olivia! Don’t hold back.”

  “I never do.”

  * * *

  Emory looked around Mason’s hotel room. It was no ordinary room; it was bigger than Emory’s apartment. The bedroom was separate from the main living area, with a pool table and full dining set, and also a wet bar. A massive flat screen television hung over the fireplace. The bathroom was bigger than her bedroom.

  “The Panthers went all out for my visit.”

  Emory made her way to the balcony, looking down at the pool and surrounding gardens below, the Charlotte skyline and Bank of America Stadium in the distance. Mason watched her intently from inside, as he had done before in another hotel room, her curves just as magnificent. Emory, too, remembered the first room, closing her eyes and biting her lip. I need to get control of myself. She opened her eyes, startled Mason had come up beside her.

  He slid his arm around her waist and leaned his forehead onto hers. “It was the best weekend of my life.”

  How the hell did he know what I was thinking? She took a deep breath to compose herself. “Me, too. But that was a long time ago.”

  Mason crouched down to look into her eyes. “We can have all that back. We can make it right.”

  “That’s your busted arm and broken marriage talking.” Emory walked back inside, and Mason followed behind.

  “Is that what you think? I’m not looking for a rebound here, Em.” He grabbed her arm gently, hoping she would stop and listen.

  “Rebound?” Emory spun around, pushing hard on his chest with both hands. “You married your last rebound!”

  Mason took a step back. So this is what she wanted to talk about. He braced himself, knowing full well he deserved what was coming.

  Emory had waited six years for this moment. “You married her, Mason! Alexis of all people! That slut from your bullshit team parties. You married her! Do you know what that did to me? To see her gloating around campus, with her huge tits, flashing that ring. You fucking married her!”

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “It was a mistake.”

  “You’re damn right!” She walked to the pool table and picked up the cue ball. “You wanted me to give up my dreams and follow you around the NFL like a good little wife, just smiling silently beside her man. You didn’t even try to meet me half way. You just gave up and fucking walked away.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “I heard that already. Shut the hell up!” Emory held the ball in her hand, shaking. “You were the only man I ever loved! You have no idea what I went through after you left me! You have no fucking idea!”

  Mason took a step towards her. “I’m here. Tell me.”

  “There’s no point now!” Emory slammed the cue ball on the pool table. “It’s over. It’s been over.”

  Mason came towards her, but she walked away. “Not the way I see it. You feel it, too. I’m not giving up no matter how long it takes.”

  She glared at him. “I will not be your rebound. I am not some easy piece of ass for you to use to ease your broken heart! I willnot be that.”

  He shook his head, shocked she thought that was his intention. “Em, you know that’s not. . . .”

  “Until two days ago, you hadn’t even seen me or called me for years. Now you’re in for the long haul?”

  “I am. It’s how I feel.” He looked down. “I didn’t think you wanted to see me again.”

  Emory pulled off her shirt, dropping it to the floor, exposing her red lace bra. “Oh, this isn’t what you want?” She strutted towards him, unbuttoning her pants. ”You don’t want to fuck me right here, right now?”

  Mason had never seen Emory like this. She was acting crazy. He stepped backwards until he hit the pool table behind him. If I say no, then I’m rejecting her, and if I say yes, then she thinks this is just about sex. Shit! I can’t win here. She continued her approach, cornering him with only one good arm, hiking her right leg onto the pool table, pushing her body into his. Mason closed his eyes, wanting her, but didn’t dare look at or touch her.

  Emory sensed his resistance. “You don’t want to?” She lowered her leg, then grabbed him, feeling he was erect.

  Jesus Christ, is she trying to kill me?

  “It seems your body knows exactly what you want.” She rubbed him up and down.

  Mason knew this wasn’t right -- that Emory was just trying to prove he was only after sex. “Em?” He placed his hand on her cheek. “Of course, I want you. I want you every which way. But not like this. And it’s not the only thing I want.”

  Emory brushed his hand aside and slowly slid off her pants, exposing her lace hip-hugger panties.

  “Holy shit!” Mason scanned her half-naked body.

  Emory licked her lips, her fierce eyes locked to devour him, sliding down his body until she was on her knees. His body trembled with desire. This is a test! Stay strong! She unbuttoned his jeans, and slowly pulled down his zipper, revealing a massive erection under his boxer briefs. She moved her hands into his jeans to pull them down, but Mason caught her hand. “Em,” he said softly, tilting up her head to look into her eyes. “We can do this, and God knows, I want to. But it won’t change what’s between us. It won’t change how I feel -- how I’ve always felt -- about you.”

  Her fierce eyes melted into tears. She fell back on her heels, holding her head in her hands. Mason buttoned himself up and grabbed a blanket, gently wrapping it around her, pulling her onto his lap. We did this last night, too. I could get used to this.

  “Please let me go.” She tried to wiggle away.

  “No.” He held her tighter. “I’m not letting you go again. I’m still paying for that mistake.”

  She stopped wiggling, and Mason took a deep breath. “Leaving you that day is the biggest regret of my life. I’m not sure how we have found each other again, but I’m going to make it right.”

  “Mason, we have so much baggage -- your arm, Alexis, Eric, our own past.”

  Mason lowered his head, sensing his chance with Emory was slipping away. He was an imposing man, but Emory sensed how vulnerable he was -- his tender, sweet soul wide open, and broken. I’m naked, but he’s exposed. She ran her fingers gently through his hair and kissed his lips softly, a small sparkle appearing in his eyes. She saw the boy she loved. He kissed her nose and forehead.

  “Don’t you owe me a drink?” she asked playfully.

  As Mason walked to the bar, Emory seized the opportunity to put her clothes back on. He peeked at her from behind the bar, and she blushed. “You weren’t blushing a few minutes ago.” He poured two glasses of wine, setting her glass on the coffee table, and took a seat on the sofa. “So tell me about Eric.”

  “What about him?” She took a seat next to him and grabbed her glass. “And aren’t you still technically married?”

  “Separated,” he said quickly and took a sip of wine. “And let’s not talk about that. You can imagine how that went.”

  “I can.” She took a drink.

  Mason still needed to know if Eric was going to be a problem. “So, how long were you and Eric together? What does he do?”


  “We were together about a year and a half.” Emory turned to face him on the sofa and crossed her legs. “We got engaged about three months ago. He’s a pediatric cardiologist here in Charlotte.”

  “Wow.” A baby heart doctor! How the hell am I supposed to compete with that?

  “We actually broke up an hour before I ran into you at Gus’ Bar.”

  “An hour?”This had to be divine intervention! “He obviously still loves you. Are you still in love with him?”

  “I do love him,” Emory said decisively, sinking Mason’s heart. “But I love him like I love Wesley.”

  Mason released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Then why were you engaged to him?”

  “Well, why did you marry Alexis?” she fired back.

  Mason fidgeted at the mention of her name. “When you were screaming at me a few minutes ago, I told you that was a mistake.”

  She smiled, slightly embarrassed by what she’d done. “Getting engaged was a mistake, too. It was wrong to be more than friends. I convinced myself that we could base a marriage on friendship and because of that I hurt him badly.”

  Mason caressed her hand, and Emory drew a deep breath. “Do you still love Alexis?”

  “Our relationship was never about love. It was about career and convenience.”

  “But you married her!” Emory drew her legs into her chest. “I know you were screwing her within days of our break-up.”

  “You don’t know that!” Mason objected.

  “Oh, please! Don’t even bother saying shit like that.” Mason walked to the bar and refilled his glass, Emory following him with her eyes. “How could you do that? I thought you loved me. I was going through hell, and you were off screwing that bitch!”

  Mason winced hearing her doubt his love. I never stopped loving you. He poured some extra wine in his glass. He needed her to understand why he did what he did back in college, but in hindsight, he didn’t totally understand it himself. “Look, Em, after we fell apart, I was sad and on the verge of an NFL career.” He walked back to the sofa. “I didn’t want to do that alone. I was scared, and she was there. Things moved fast. She had no problem making my career her priority.” He sat down and put his hand on her knee. “I thought that meant she loved me, and I thought that was enough.”

  Emory shook her head and cracked a smile. “That is so fucking dumb.”

  “I know. I was young and stupid.” He raked his fingers through her hair. “I’ve made a mess of my life, but want a chance to fix it.”

  Emory got up from the sofa and walked to the window, staring out to the skyline, remembering she’d waited for hours for Mason to come back to her in the weight room, and even for years after. And now he had. But Emory wasn’t sure about a second chance, still angry he’d left and moved on so quickly with Alexis. It still hurt, but some part of her could understand settling for someone less than perfect. Eric. If she got back together with Mason, she wondered whether she’d be treating Eric the same way Mason had treated her with Alexis. She didn’t want to hurt Eric like she’d been hurt but knew she still loved Mason. Time, Eric, Alexis, and her own secrets hadn’t changed that. Maybe I should tell him the whole truth?

  She felt his arm slide around her waist, and his lips graze her ear. “I’m so sorry, Em. Please give me another chance. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  While her mind raced, there was no doubt in her heart she would give him another chance. She looked up into his eyes, waiting eagerly for her answer. “We need to take this very slowly,” she cautioned.

  He smiled broadly, hugging her tightly. “I can do slow. We can also go back over to the pool table. Either way is fine.”

  “Don’t make fun of me.”

  “I’m kidding. Look, let’s order room service and spend the night in. I don’t want to let you out of my sight until I leave for the airport in the morning.”

  “That’s not exactly taking it slow,” she said. “But you know I’m always up to eat.”

  After room service, they spent hours together, talking and laughing about everything and nothing. It was as if their carefree college days had returned. As midnight approached, Mason whispered, “Stay.”

  Emory held firm. “Not tonight.”

  Mason pulled her onto his lap and delivered a long, deep kiss. He then put Emory in her car and asked her to text him when she arrived home safely. “I’ll be back from Seattle as quick as I can.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  * * *

  Emory floated into her apartment, finding Wesley and Tomás cuddling on the sofa to an all-night action movie marathon, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

  “Hey, honey,” Wesley said. “I was about to call the SWAT team.”

  Emory removed her shoes. “I could have used their help at one point.”

  Tomás sat up. “What? Did he hurt you?” He held out the popcorn bowl to her. “Do you need food?” Wesley smacked his arm.

  “No, I nearly hurthim.” She tossed her purse on the chair. “SWAT would have been good back-up though. I’ll give you the break-down tomorrow.”

  “OK, dear,” Wesley said, focusing his attention back to the television.

  Tomás never cared for action movies, hating violence of any kind. But he watched, or rather endured, them for Wesley. It also gave him an opportunity to prepare a snack, even if it was simply popcorn.

  “Oh, this is a good part!” Wesley called out.

  Emory looked at the television and laughed. “Why can’t you two watch musicals like normal gay guys?”

  “I told him West Side Story was on,” Tomás said, again offering popcorn to Emory, and she took a handful.

  “You are one to talk, Emory,” Wesley said. “Always crying in action movies.”

  Emory shrugged. “It’s sad when so many people die and so brutally.”

  “I completely agree,” Tomás said, patting the sofa cushion for her to sit beside him. “By the way, I need you to help me convince your stubborn roommate about something.”

  Emory raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” She took a seat next to Tomás. “This sounds intriguing.”

  Wesley pivoted his eyes from the television to Tomás. “Now is not the time! Don’t try to get her on your side to gang up on me. I just want to watch the marathon!”

  “Be quiet, Wesley. Don’t talk to Tomás that way. He’s my friend, too.” Emory kissed Tomás on the cheek.

  Wesley threw his hands in the air, paused the movie, then stuffed his mouth with popcorn.

  “Go ahead, Tomás,” she said.

  Tomás looked at Wesley, then Emory. “Did Wesley tell you his little sister is getting married?”

  Emory gave a sideways glance to Wesley. “No, he did not.”

  “Well, she invited Wesley and me to the wedding, but he doesn’t want to go. He’s being a little bitch about it.”

  “A little bitch? I don’t want to distract from her day,” Wesley said.

  “She invited you, so she wants you there,” Emory said. “She obviously doesn’t think you’ll be a distraction. I don’t see what the problem is.”

  “I know my parents will cause a fuss, and I don’t want that for her.” Wesley reached for the remote. “Just drop it, both of you, and let’s watch the movie.”

  “Put that down,” Emory said. “I think it’s great she invited you. It’s great she’s reached out to you the past few years. It’s great you two have gotten closer.”

  Tomás nodded. “I think it’s great, too.”

  “Nothing about my family is great,” Wesley told them.

  Emory took Wesley’s hands in hers. “You know I love you more than anything, but Tomás is right. Your sister wants you there, and it’s her day. She knows the risk she’s taking and doesn’t care because she loves you and is proud to have her brother there.”

  Wesley rolled his eyes, as Emory received a text on her phone. Em, please let me know you got home OK. Can’t sleep until you do.

  She put Wesley
’s hand on Tomás’ hand and stood up from the sofa. “No fighting -- except in the movie. And this isn’t over, Wesley. We’ll talk about it more tomorrow.” She walked towards her room, typing her response on the way. Sorry, home safe. Minor gay emergency. Em.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mason slept only a few hours before catching a cab to the airport. It was early morning, but he wasn’t tired, feeding off adrenaline, like before a big game. A woman so breathtakingly beautiful, once lost, had now been found. He walked briskly to the gate to head out to Seattle, wishing he could hear her voice, but a text would have to do. He was anxious to send it but thought to wait a bit, figuring she was still asleep and a ding could wake her. He waited until he boarded the plane. Missed you all night. Taking it slow SUCKS! See you soon.

  * * *

  Emory read Mason’s text when she got up and smiled to herself, happy he thought about her before leaving, and that she hadn’t stayed the night. She wanted to keep some mystery to their relationship; after all, they’d only seen each other for a few days. She replied to his text quickly, even though she knew he was mid-flight. She pulled herself out of bed, the unmistakable smell of a country breakfast calling her into the kitchen. She found Tomás making eggs, bacon, and biscuits.

  “Wesley still mad?” she asked, twisting her hair into a messy bun.

  “Yeah, still being a little bitch.” He smiled and plated the eggs and bacon. “He’s pretty pissed at me for telling you.”

  “Well, he’ll just have to get over it.” She sipped some juice. “You guys should go to the wedding, no doubt.”

  Tomás brought the plates to the table and sat down. “Maybe he’s embarrassed of me.”

  “That’s not it.” She patted his arm. “He was so proud of you at the club a few days ago.”

  “That’s different than bringing me to his family.” Tomás folded a piece of bacon and took a bite.

  “He’s just scared, that’s all.” Emory devoured her eggs. “This is fantastic, by the way.”

  Tomás smiled and took a sip of juice. “He’s just worried about his sister and his parents, too. It’s not the same as your family.”