Blocked

by Jennifer Lane

  “Of course we’re here,” I said.

  “Here we are.” Dad arrived and stretched a beer bottle my direction, but Mom spun around.

  “What’re you doing?” she hissed.

  Dad’s bewildered gaze darted back and forth between Mom and me, and he slowly retracted the offered brew. It looked delicious. “Getting our son a drink. What’s the big deal, Lois?”

  “For one thing, it’s a media disaster. He’s underage! And he can’t have alcohol anyway. If you were involved at all in his life, you’d know why.”

  “Like you’ve been mother of the year,” Dad spat.

  Her eyes blazed. “How dare you.”

  “Mom?” Jessica’s voice quivered, and when I peeled my eyes away from the clusterfuck that was my parents’ marriage, I saw tears in her eyes. I stepped around Mom and draped my arm across Jessica’s shoulders.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, with a squeeze. On the other side of me, Mom seemed to shake from anger, so I cradled her elbow in my free arm.

  Dad looked at the three of us standing together, in obvious distress, and he took a step back. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been such an idiot.” He gazed at Mom. “I hope what I told you tonight means something. For you. For us. But now I realize I can’t make this all better in an hour. You’re too hurt for that.”

  I glanced to my right and saw her mouth tremble. She nodded.

  “Of course you’re hurt. I’ve made a proper mess of things.” Dad shook his head.

  “What’re you guys talking about?” asked Jessica.

  When Dad met my eyes, I told him, “She deserves to know.” I looked at my mom. “Jess is stronger than you think.”

  Steve swooped in next to my mom. “Mr. DuPont, how ’bout you head back to the party? We’re pretty busy back here.”

  Dad hung his head for a moment before he nodded. “Jessie, let’s talk.” He looked to my mom, and she must have given her approval because his fingers curled as he beckoned my sister. I nudged her toward him.

  “Wait—here’s your phone.” I handed it to Dad and watched him lead Jessica to a corner of the room.

  Mom let out a rush of air, and Steve clasped her forearm. “You okay, Lo?”

  She gave him a wobbly smile and nodded. “Thanks for getting rid of him.” She patted his hand. “Find out the latest Colorado numbers, okay?”

  As I watched their exchange, something felt strange. They seemed curiously intimate. I studied Steve as if seeing him for the first time, with his compact build and shrewd brown eyes. He smiled at my mom before he left, and then she turned to me.

  Her voice wavered. “Why’d you have Patrick’s phone?”

  I wasn’t sure if my heartbeat kicked up from seeing her so shaken or at the thought of her possibly finding out about the text. “He showed me his latest painting.”

  “Ah.” She blinked. “Homage to Fuck Off.”

  I suppressed a laugh.

  “Evidently he’s working through his anger toward my father.”

  Maybe I should pick up painting too, then. “Mom, what did Dad tell you tonight?”

  Her eyes flickered. “He wants me back.” She huffed out a breath. “He said he made a huge mistake. He wants to go to couples counseling, work it out.”

  “Wow. That’s some kind of timing he has, huh?”

  “Honestly, it’s been a good distraction. There was always more I could do during the campaign, but tonight…well, now I’ve done all I can. It’s out of my control, and I’m incredibly nervous.”

  “But it feels good to put it all out there, whatever the outcome.”

  She smiled at me. “Exactly, Mr. Volleyball Player. You know what that’s like.” Her smile faded. “I’m glad he told me. It feels validating to know he still wants me, even if I’m not sure we can work this out.”

  “Because of your feelings for Steve?”

  She flinched, then gaped at me for a long minute. “Steve and I are friends, and that’s all…even though he wants more.”

  “And you?” I looked into her eyes. “What do you want?”

  “I want things to be simpler.” Her grin seemed cheeky. “I want to be President of the United States.”

  This time I did laugh. “Yeah, ’cause those things go together real well.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe you saw through Steve’s feelings.” She straightened my shirt collar and gazed up at me. “You’re becoming quite the psychologist, hmm?”

  I shrugged.

  “Of course, this is familiar territory to you—forbidden romance and all.”

  I looked at my watch. Lucia’s match had started fifteen minutes ago.

  “Go to Lucia, Dane.” When I inhaled sharply, she patted my chest. “This election will last late into the night, and you being here won’t affect the outcome. We’ll be okay.” I looked over to Jessica and Dad in the corner, but Mom cupped my face and turned my attention back to her. “Jessie will take the news better than you, because now there’s hope for reconciliation. You didn’t have that. And unlike your situation, I’ll be here for her. I’ll make sure John keeps her away from the cash bar.”

  When my mom’s eyes twinkled, I chuckled. “But, Mom—”

  “I’ll be fine, honey. I’ve got two men who love me, and soon I’ll be president. Go, Dane. Go to her.”

  I kissed her cheek. “Will you tell Jess I’ll be there for her meet next weekend?” When Mom nodded, I hustled over to Brad. “Hey, I want—”

  “China’s already got the SUV fired up, Maverick,” he said with a grin. “Let’s roll.”

  After China broke all kinds of traffic laws, we lurched to the curb near the gym. I could hear the cheerleaders from outside: Cou, cou, cou, cou-gars! Inside the gym, it was a wall of sound. A glance at the scoreboard told me Highbanks was up seven to two over Indiana University in the second game. China veered toward Allison, who stood on the gym’s upper level, and Brad led me to the bleachers behind the Highbanks bench. Frank must have been somewhere here too.

  Focused on the game, Lucia didn’t see me come in, but the one TV camera on the floor did. I ignored it as it swiveled to point at me and watched my girl play our favorite game. Lucia and Maddie went up for the block, but the Indiana hitter managed to hit through them. Kaitlyn’s missed dig made it side-out to IU, and I turned to a motherly type sitting next to me. “Who won the first game?”

  “Cougars!” She grinned.

  Phew. Hopefully Nina was playing better this match. But then the Indiana server rattled off four zingers that stymied the Highbanks defense and tied the game, and Coach Holter called a time out. When Lucia jogged over to the huddle, she happened to scan the stands, and she jumped when she saw me. Her mouth formed the cutest O as her eyes grew big. My heart thrummed and her huge smile undoubtedly matched mine.

  “You okay?” she mouthed.

  I nodded and tapped the big metal button on my lapel that read GO MONROE.

  Her eyes sparkled as she shook her head.

  I worried Coach would have a hissy fit that her focus wasn’t on the team, but he funneled his rage on the defense, jabbing his finger at Kaitlyn and Lynette. The referee blew his whistle, and the teams took the court again. Another serve screamed across the net, but this time Kaitlyn executed a clean pass to Nina, who set a good ball. Lucia flew like an angel—damn, her vertical leap was impressive—and slammed the ball at a vicious angle. The IU libero didn’t have a chance in hell to dig that heat-seeking missile. Point, Highbanks.

  Lucia high-fived Nina, then snuck a quick wink in my direction. That wink did all kinds of dirty things to my body. A tingle in my toes jolted up my legs and made me hard in an instant. The racing thud of my heartbeat, the burn in my hands, desiring her hair in my clutches, craving the touch of her sweet, smooth skin…I swallowed. I hadn’t noticed how warm it was in the gym, and I loosened my tie.

  When Lucia’s next block stuffed the opponent, she fist-pumped as she hopped up and down, then wrapped Maddie
in a hug. A bead of sweat trickled down my back, and I peeled off my suit jacket. I draped it over my lap to hide my growing problem. After a few more kills by Lucia, the nape of my neck felt wet. I folded up my shirtsleeves to my elbows.

  “You gonna strip it all off?” Brad leered as he leaned in.

  “Wish I could. It’s hot in here.” And she was undoing me with her astounding play.

  There was often a time late in the season when underclassmen stepped up their game, confidently filling the holes left by graduating seniors. A changing of the guard, so to speak. It had happened for me when our starting setter’s old knee injury acted up in our home game against Bridgetown last spring. When Phil had put me in, at first I’d thought I would hurl, but I’d been ready. I’d run the offense like a Tesla Roadster—smooth, precise, and confident—just like Lucia’s play at the moment. There was no need for Nina to set Maddie because Lucia crushed every ball sent her way. It was a thing of beauty.

  After the match, which Highbanks won three games to zero, I headed to the hallway outside the locker room with my agents behind me. Hanging by the wall was a muscular guy, almost my height, and when I got closer I recognized him immediately. But he was the one who first spoke. “Dane Monroe, right?”

  I stuck out my hand. “Hey, TJ.” The starting football quarterback at a volleyball game?

  “Um…” He cocked his head. “This is election night, right? And…you’re here?”

  Before I had a chance to explain, the locker room door swung open, and I wondered if Lucia’s arrival would explain my presence. But it turned out the player who emerged explained TJ’s presence.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he said, and Nina shimmied right up to him. She’d planted a kiss on his lips before she realized I was there.

  “Dane!” Her eyes widened.

  “That was one hell of a match, Nina.”

  It was the first genuine smile I’d seen from her. “Thanks.” She leaned into the big man behind her. “You know TJ?”

  “Of course.” I nodded at him. “I go to Highbanks, after all.”

  He groaned. “No going anonymous around here, that’s for sure.”

  It struck me that maybe TJ would be a good friend—he certainly understood the burdens of celebrity. I shrugged. “If it weren’t for my mom, I could go incognito as a volleyball player. It’s a little different for a star football player.”

  “Well, a volleyball setter’s like a quarterback,” Nina said. “The leader of the team.”

  “And you did a great job leading tonight,” I said.

  She beamed. “Thanks. See ya, Dane.”

  I nodded at them as they left, and hoped the pain I’d caused Nina was in the past. Then the girl of my present walked out of the locker room and bounded into my arms.

  “I can’t believe you’re here!” she gushed.

  “I can’t believe I almost missed that performance. You were incredible.”

  A giddy grin lit up her face. “It was so fun! But why aren’t you with your mom?”

  “You know what, my mom’s going to be fine, win or lose.” It was the first time in recent memory that I didn’t feel a knot of worry in my belly when I thought of Mom. “She saw that I wanted to be with you, so she told me to go.”

  “Wow. Your mom is so cool.” She turned to the agents. “What’s the latest with the election? Alex texted me that it’s still too close to call.”

  China stepped closer. “Want to know what happened with Colorado?” When Lucia nodded, she said, “Senator Monroe carried the state.”

  Lucia seemed to take the news well. “What’s the electoral vote count?”

  “Tied at two-thirty-six,” Frank said.

  Lucia looked at me with big eyes. “¡Hijole!”

  “So California’s still up in the air?” I asked.

  “And Arizona,” Brad said.

  I cradled her head. “Let’s go home and watch the results. Together.”

  “Great idea.” She smiled.

  We walked arm in arm out of the gym, and I tucked Lucia closer to protect her from the icy November wind. That’s when I heard a woman call my name. I turned to see a reporter rush toward us with her camera guy in tow. I felt Lucia tense next to me, but she didn’t pull away. When the reporter got closer, my jaw dropped. I’d met her before. Beergate.

  “Beverly Jackson,” I said. I snuck a glance at her microphone and camera but didn’t see any Fox logo. “You got your job back?”

  “You think I’d work a volleyball game on election night if I got my job back?”

  “Good point.” I winced. “Were there criminal charges?”

  “I had a good lawyer.” She frowned. “Now I’m stuck doing freelance work, trying to claw my way back.”

  Guilt stirred in my gut. “I feel bad you never got the inside scoop I promised you.”

  “You can still make it up to me.” Her eyes took in Lucia and me. “It appears you’ve got quite the scoop right there.”

  Lucia shot me a questioning look. I grinned at her, then turned to Beverly. “You’re right.” I took a deep breath as I looked straight into the camera. “I love Lucia Ramirez.”

  The cutest gasp lifted the air next to me. I turned to see her mouth hanging open, a full-on blush coloring her pretty cheeks. Her lips gradually pulled together and slid into a grin as wide as Texas. Her eyes danced as she gazed up at me. “And I love Dane Monroe.”

  “How ’bout a kiss—”

  But Lucia’s mouth was on mine before Beverly had a chance to finish her suggestion. Her warm lips and floral shampoo filled my senses, and I massaged my hands through her thick, wet hair to release more of the heavenly scent.

  Somewhere a man cleared his throat, then a moment later I heard Brad say, “Jesus, horndogs! Get a room.”

  I unlatched my lips and looked over Lucia’s shoulder to find Brad cackling and Frank shaking his head. I looked back at Beverly. “Will that work for you?”

  “Who do you predict will win the election?” she asked.

  How will I answer that?

  Lucia looked at me, then at the camera. “One of our parents will win, of course.”

  Beverly shook her head and opened her mouth as if to question us again, but then she tapped the camera operator’s shoulder. “That’s a wrap.”

  I know I sighed with relief.

  Sometime later, we cuddled on the TV room sofa and watched political commentators argue. The anchor touched her earpiece. “Well, what do you know. In this bitterly contested election between two very different candidates, it appears there is some common ground to be found.” The video of Lucia kissing me flashed on the screen, and I bolted upright as she squeaked. That reporter was fast.

  “I’ve never seen myself kiss a girl on TV before.”

  “It’s kind of weird.” She nodded. Then her mouth curled into a devious smile. “And kind of sexy.”

  My lower body stirred. “Kind of a turn on.”

  I leaned down to kiss her and tasted fajita from our takeout after the match. Spicy and delicious, just like her. We stretched down toward one end of the sofa, her on top of me and our legs tangled together. She skated her fingertips underneath my shirt, springing goose bumps up the midline of my torso, and my hands wandered down her back until they cradled her fine butt cheeks, soft and muscular through the Spandex.

  I barely heard the reporter say that Arizona had gone to Governor Ramirez, but it seemed neither of us cared. The real decider would be the massive number of electoral votes in California, and it was still too close to call.

  My breath caught when she unbuttoned my shirt and yanked it open.

  “Gotta see this gorgeous chest.” Her brown eyes flared with heat as they roved down my body, and her lips soon followed the scorching trail her eyes had left. Her sweet mouth on my belly ignited a fire in my core, and my hips bucked off the sofa.

  She grinned up at me. “You like that?”

  My fingers played with her hair as I tried to catch my breath. “I’ve got no wo
rds for how much I like that.”

  She pressed lingering kisses up my chest, and the flames licked higher. Her warm breath tickled my collarbone. Just as her face hovered over mine, an involuntary yawn stretched her mouth. Her eyes widened as her hand flew to cover her mouth. “Sorry!”

  I chuckled. “My little studette is tired after her stellar match.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  I touched my finger to her lips. “We’ve got time. It’s okay.” Then I drew her into me, and she snuggled in so her head rested on my chest. My fingers wove into her damp hair, and I breathed in her beguiling scent. A commentator said something about California typically being a lockdown for Democrats, but the Latino vote made that less certain.

  I curled a strand around my finger. “What if your dad loses?”

  “What if he wins?” She lifted her head. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

  I laughed. “I was thinking the same thing. I wouldn’t mind if Mom lost the election. Maybe my life could return to normal.”

  She twisted her mouth to one side. “That’s not very nice of us to hope our parent loses.”

  “I think it’s normal, in our situation.” I pressed a kiss to her lips. “Whatever happens, I’m glad I found you.”

  She looked into my eyes. “Te amo.”

  “I love you, too, Luz.”

  I’m not sure what time it was later when the TV anchor said, “California votes are in for over ninety percent of the precincts, and we’re finally ready to announce the winner.” I looked down to find Lucia sleeping in my arms, so sweet and yummy. I nudged her awake. “Luz, there’s a winner.”

  She gasped and turned her blinking eyes to the screen. We joined hands just as the reporter began to speak.

  “The next President of the United States is…”

  Acknowledgments

  Gratitude and blessings to:

  Nicki Elson, critique partner. Thank you for warm fuzzies, raucous political commentary, and non-stop laughs.

  Jessica Royer Ocken, editor extraordinaire. We’ve plowed through five novels together, and I look forward to many more. Thanks for articulating my ideas better than I do!