And boyfriends. It seems like I’m the only single girl I know.
I used to love it. I used to think I wasn’t close to getting semi-serious about a guy in any regard.
I pick up my collected works of George Bernard Shaw. I’m supposed to be working on a paper about Saint Joan, not sitting here moping over Kade and Connor.
“Mind if I sit down?”
I startle and drop the book on the table.
“Sorry,” the guy says.
“No, it’s okay.”
He’s got brown hair, and a trim build, with a tattoo of a snake slinking up his arm. He’s definitely familiar. I’ve seen him around but I can’t put my finger on where. Maybe it’s just the general vicinity of campus.
“I’m Chase,” he says. “I’m in your British Literature class.”
“Oh! Right.” I tap the side of my forehead. “Sorry. I thought I knew you from somewhere.”
“Shh!” A girl from the study group whispers over to us.
“Sorry,” I tell the group. I zip my lips shut.
Chase guffaws. “It’s a library, not the Sistine Chapel,” he tells them.
I press my fingers against my mouth to cover my smile. “Have a seat,” I whisper.
He takes off the backpack hanging over one shoulder and sits down across from me. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“No, I was just trying to psych myself up to read some Shaw.”
And also stalking my ex-lovers.
“Theater major?” Chase asks.
“Yep. What about you?”
“English. Sorry, I’m boring. I don’t know what I want to do with my life so I made a bad choice in picking a major.”
“Oh, come on,” I say as loudly as I dare. “Don’t beat yourself up. Being an English major isn’t a bad choice.”
“It is if you have dyslexia.”
“Oh.” All playful feelings drop away. “I’m sorry. That’s rough, I’m sure.”
He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t have dyslexia. I was just messing with you.”
“What?”
Another hushing comes our way. Chase turns in his seat to stick his tongue out at the study group. I have to press both my hands against my mouth to keep myself quiet. I’m mortified and humored at the same time.
“You’re going to get us kicked out,” I warn.
He shrugs. “Then we can go somewhere more fun.”
“What could be more fun than this?” I wave the book around.
“On a Friday night? You must be kidding.”
“I wish I was,” I mumble.
“There's a show at Vango tonight. Come with me. It's this weird synth pop-folk act. I don't know how good the music will be, but I promise I'll do whatever I need to make the experience fun."
He earnestly gazes at me from across the table. I believe everything he says. But I know if I go with him I won’t have fun. My mind will be somewhere else, just like it always is.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “But it’s not a good time for me.”
“Then next weekend. I’ll take you out to dinner.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? Is that a good oh?” He comically waggles his eyebrows. I bite my lip and look down. It’s been a long time since I’ve been asked out on a date. It’s been a long time since a cute guy has paid attention to me.
Maybe cutting loose and having fun is just what I need. It could get my mind off of Kade and Connor.
But it probably wouldn’t.
It’s not right. I can’t go out with this guy.
“Thanks,” I tell Chase. “But I meant it’s not a good time in the general sense.”
“Ah.” His face wrinkles. “You have a boyfriend?”
I shift in my seat. It’s too hard. It’s also too hot in here and I don’t like having to answer these direct questions about myself. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“I see,” he slowly says. “I understand. Life gets in the way. Let me know if something changes. You’ll find me in your British Lit class. I like to sit in the back and pretend I’m somewhere else.”
“Okay,” I agree.
Chase seems like a nice guy. I believe he means what he says and he’s not angry I’m turning him down.
He stands up. “I’ll see you in class...” He points at me.
“Tracey-Ann.”
“Tracey-Ann. That’s a beautiful name. See you around, T.A.” He winks, picks up his backpack, and skirts the periodical section as he leaves.
My fingers find the pen on the table. I twist it around and around.
That was a stupid move.
A cute guy just asked me out and I said no. In what universe does that make sense?
In the one where I’m waiting for Connor and Kade.
The men in my heart who aren’t really in my life anymore.
I can’t even say they were boyfriends.
The men who owned me.
I don't have a boyfriend. Or two. I have nothing close to that. I just have hope. I have this seed of faith in my heart. It tells me that someday things are going to go back to normal between me and the guys. Our relationship will be like it was those days in Nashville. Easy. Full of energy and fun. There won’t be any questions or worrying. We’ll be living it up and enjoying being together.
Shouldn’t life always be that simple?
No more waiting.
I pull my phone back out of my bag and start a group message to Connor and Kade. The cursor steadily blinks, daring me to say what I feel.
We’ll be in touch soon. That’s what Connor said the day he last called me.
I can’t push them. I should understand the need for space. Last summer I was the person asking for it. If I change my tune now I’ll be a hypocrite.
I slowly type out a text message. ‘Congratulations on the combine.’
Just four words. They seem small and insignificant, but I have to believe they’ll lead to bigger things.
I send the text and put the phone away. Whether they respond or not, I need to be happy. I’m holding out for them. I really am.
But part of that means letting things happen in their own time.
I crack my book open, getting back to my readings.
26
Connor
I read Tracey-Ann’s message on my phone for the hundredth time. I wanted to send more than a simple ‘Thanks’ back, but I can’t write anything else. Engaging with her wasn’t part of the plan.
From now on, Kade and I are sticking together. Always. That’s the way things are supposed to be with us. I’m not making a move towards Tracey-Ann unless Kade and I are in full agreement.
I put my phone face down in my lap and lean into my seat.
“Planes,” Kade says from the window seat next to me. “We’re always on planes these days.”
“Get used to it. Maybe when we’re star athletes we’ll be swimming in money and able to fly around in private jets, but we’ll still be flying.”
He rolls his eyes. Across the aisle, Ryan laughs and puts in his earbuds. Things have been much better between him and Kade, which is good since we were the three players from the Vols selected to go to the combines. Kade probably apologized to him.
Thank God. Vengeful Kade isn’t a fun one to have around. The same with Ryan.
“I’m gonna relax the second we get back,” I say. “You can wake me up when it’s summer break.”
I close my eyes and let darkness wrap around me. A vision of Tracey-Ann takes over. Her full lips, firm ass, and supple hips tease me. I inhale deeply as though her sweet scent is nearby. It’s been months since I’ve seen her naked. It’s been months since I’ve seen any woman naked.
If it weren’t for football taking up all my energy, I might have exploded from sexual frustration weeks ago. Leaving every ounce of energy on the field is good therapy for a whole lot of things.
Kade and I haven’t talked about Tracey-Ann for a while. The message she sent showed up in a group thread. I know he go
t it, but he hasn’t mentioned it. He needs to hurry up and become ready for her again. The NFL draft is in April. Once my future is determined I’ll be ready to cut loose and have fun. And do more than that. I’ll be ready to have a woman in my day to day life. I made the space for Tracey-Ann. I just need her fine ass to come on over and fill it.
Sunlight strikes my closed eyes and makes me see bright orange. I put a hand up to shield my vision.
“Christ! What are you doing?”
Kade pulls the window’s blind halfway back down. “Seeing where we are.”
“You can't recognize landmarks from all the way up here."
“Maybe you can’t, but have you ever heard of rivers?”
“Whatever. You don’t recognize the rivers.” I adjust myself and work on sitting on my side. It’s no use. These seats were made for ballerina size people and not footballers.
I close my eyes and do a meditation I saw on a YouTube video. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
Do they serve food on this flight?
Kade taps my arm. “I’m ready. I want to see Tracey-Ann.”
I’m instantly awake. My eyes fly open and I turn to him. “You do?”
“Yes,” he solemnly says.
Excitement booms in my chest, but I keep it at bay. “What makes you think she wants to see us at all?”
“Just a hunch. She wanted to tell us something. I’m ready to hear, so maybe she’s ready to talk. Are you in?”
“Of course, but we can’t show up emptyhanded after all this time. Let’s call her up when we land.”
“How do you think she’d react if we tell her we’re ready…that we want her to be ours?” he asks.
“Do we?” I have to ask, mostly because I need him to be sure.
“I do. What about you?”
“I have for a while. You know that. But are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Positive. Tracey-Ann is special. She has been since the start. I don’t want any other girl.”
I nod. “Same here.”
The flight takes forever, as does the taxi ride from the airport to the little book store Tracey-Ann likes to visit. We ask the driver the wait, and head inside. I already know what we’ll get her. She’s had her eye on a limited edition copy of Shakespeare’s Othello for some time. I don’t care that it’s a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar purchase. She’s worth way more than that. Kade agrees, and suggests we get flowers to help our case. I’m glad he’s on board. I can’t get Tracey-Ann’s face off my mind. She’s tantalizingly close.
And soon she’ll be ours.
If it’s not too late.
Kade and I drop our bags by the front door and rush right back out.
Ryan watches us in confusion. “Where are you guys going?”
We don’t stop to explain. Kade jumps into his truck and I haul ass to get in next to him.
We’re silent for a few minutes as Kade takes us in the direction of Tracy-Ann’s dorm.
I study Kade out of the corner of my eye. There’s a new lightness about him. He’s been in better spirits all this week. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he means what he says. He’s ready to invite Tracey-Ann into his life.
Thank God for that.
We snag the first parking spot near her dorm that we can find. I pull my phone out and write a text message while we walk.
Kade and I are at your dorm. You here?
We stop at the front of the dorm and hang around by the steps. Kade paces back and forth. Every two seconds he looks up at the dorm’s windows.
“Relax,” I tell him.
He just keeps pacing.
The front door opens and I hold my breath. Tracey-Ann walks through the doorway and jogs down the front steps. Her sneakers hit the concrete and she skids to a halt as she sees that we’re not coming emptyhanded. Kade stops in his tracks, holding out the flowers toward her. I do the same with the book we bought her that’s now wrapped.
“Hi,” she softly says.
“Hey,” Kade and I say at the same time. We glance at each other. Tracey-Ann smiles wide.
“We got these for you,” I tell her.
“Wow, roses. That’s so sweet of you…we should get these in water.” We follow her inside and up to her dorm room. She doesn’t have a vase, so she fills a tall coffee mug. “That should do. So…how was it?” she asks.
“Good,” Kade replies. “We missed you.”
I look quickly at him. Kade’s admission that he missed her is a big deal. It’s totally out of character for him. Maybe there’s hope for him.
Tracey-Ann’s teeth dig into her bottom lip. Her eyes fill with tears and she smiles around her bite. She looks happy and sad at the same time. I’m not sure what’s really going on with her.
“I missed you guys too,” she whispers. “Big time. Listen. I need to tell you both something.”
Kade takes a step towards her. He slowly reaches his arm up but stops and doesn’t make contact. “You don’t have to. I messed up, Tracey-Ann.”
She shrugs. “We all do that from time to time.”
“But I did,” Kade continues. “Plus I’m seriously screwed up…like in the head. I’ve not had the perfect childhood or upbringing that the two of you had. My family is fucked up.”
Tracey-Ann purses her lips. A heavy tear rolls down her cheek. “I understand… and I need to say something…to explain myself.”
Kade and I sit on her narrow bed. “Go on,” I tell her.
“I’m not the sweet, sheltered, innocent person you think I am. My life… my family is nowhere near perfect either. It’s a long story, but the Coles Notes version is simple. I was a bit of a rebel for like a minute during my last year of middle school. I had my first inhale of weed with some kids who I thought would help me become one of the cool kids. I lashed out a bit, but I said the wrong thing to the wrong person, and it came back to bite me and my family…and it got my neighbor shot.”
“Tracey-Ann,” Kade says. “This, uh, abridged version is kind of scaring me. Are you trying to tell us your dad will try to unload some buckshot on Connor and me if we try to date you?”
She smiles and shakes her head. “No, nothing like that.”
“We’ve got time. You can tell us everything. Start wherever you feel comfortable”
“Okay. Thanks. I stated hanging out with some people from the wrong crowd. We did some not so great things. I came to my senses after a little while, but somewhere along the line, I mentioned to them that my dad had a weekly poker game with one of our neighbors who was bank manager at the busiest bank on our side of town. Weeks after I stopped running with that crowd, my worst nightmare happened.”
She takes a long breath and sits at the chair beside her study table in the corner of the tiny room. “In the middle of Dad’s poker game with his three friends and the neighbor, five armed men broke into our house. They were all in black shirts and camo pants, with balaclavas over their heads, demanding that Mr. Wentworth, our neighbor, had to take them to his bank and give them access to the cash in the bank safe. They locked me in my room, tied up my parents and their friends, and two of the intruders took Mr. Wentworth to the bank while the other three kept watch over us. We were collateral to make sure Mr. Wentworth cooperated.”
“I’m not sure how, but Dad must have had some idea as to who the men were. Dad found a way to get his arms loose, and he fought the one holding a sawed-off shotgun. Somewhere in the melee, one of Dad’s friends got shot in the leg, and my father managed to drag off the guy’s mask before all three of the guys holding us hostage ran off. I didn’t see all of what happened, but according to Dad, the guy he fought off was barely eighteen.”
“Over at the bank while all of this was happening, Mr. Wentworth was able to alert the authorities. All five of the men ended up getting caught. But the worst part for me was when I saw their pictures in the news. I recognized two of them. That was when I realized I may have had a part in it. The two guys were the older brothers of one of the rebel kids
I hung out with. I inadvertently was responsible for telling those intruders about Mr. Wentworth’s Friday evening routine.”
“I blamed myself for all of it for a long time. It took months of therapy for me to get past the nightmares, and even longer for me to accept the truth. I may have shared something I shouldn’t have, but my guilt was unfounded. I was not to blame for that night. And I didn’t cause my dad’s friend to get shot. His wound wasn’t fatal, I should add. But the reason I’m telling you both about this is…well, first, no one’s childhood is perfect. And second…sometimes I just leave my dorm, get in my car and drive home to see my parents. I know they’re fine, but there are still times when the video reel of that night goes on replay in my head, and no amount of self-talk is enough. I have to go home to see with my own eyes that they’re okay. I know it’s a bit crazy, but—”
“It’s not crazy at all,” I tell her. “I’m sorry something so awful happened to you and your family.”
Kade gets up and goes to her side. “And I’m sorry too…for what happened, and for showing up that night, and jumping to conclusions…and I guess for being an all-round prick.”
“It’s okay,” she tells him.
“No. It’s not. I’m not the only guy to have shit happen as a kid. I don’t need to be an asshole about it…I’m going to work on myself,” Kade continues. “I don’t want to end up like my dad.”
I feel my eyebrows shoot up. I’ve been proud of Kade plenty of times, but all of those instances had to do with football. This is the first time I’m really proud of him for something he’s done off the field. For showing how kind and humane he really is.
“I hear you. I think it’s great,” Tracey-Ann says. She sniffs. “Working on yourself. Taking responsibility.”
“I can do better…for myself, and for us.”
Tracey-Ann’s gaze slips over to me and back to him. “Yes. We can.”
“Agreed,” I add.
Tracey-Ann clears her throat. “What now?”
Desire takes me over faster than a forest fire across dry brush. I make a move for Tracey-Ann but Kade is already there. He lifts her off her feet and presses his mouth against hers. She clings to his neck and kisses him deeply.
Two Jocks Next Door: A Bad Boy MFM Romance Page 14
