When Stars Burn Out

by Carrie Aarons

  “Demi, I’m not an idiot. And neither are you. We’re two grown people who can admit that the minute you stepped into that conference room, a spark was reignited. We’ll never be friends, no, we never were. But I’m mature enough to admit that I feel an attraction toward you, and I know you feel one toward me. We have a past, yes, but we can rewrite it. I’m a different person, I’m not the asshole I was back then. And you can admit that each time you look at me, you know we could be something, too.”

  I hoped she’d lean in, give me at least just a little something. I wasn’t crazy to think that we could pick up the tattered pieces of our college days and try to make something new work. Stitch a new quilt of those memories into something that lasted.

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Paxton. Every time I look at you, I see how weak I was. I see how much you hurt me. How am I ever going to let go of that?”

  I see the pain in her eyes, and I hate that I put it there.

  “All I can tell you is that I am a different person. That the way you described what happens when people die … I took that to heart. In the time we’ve been apart, I lost both of my parents. Tragically. And it changed every fiber within me. So that prick who hurt you? He’s not here anymore. I know I can say that until the cows come home, but I’ll prove it to you too.”

  Demi’s face reflects the sympathy she feels for me, and I want to erase it.

  “No, don’t do that. Don’t feel bad for me, and don’t think I’m playing the orphan card to gain your trust. I’m simply saying that I lost the two people on this earth who loved me most, and it showed me how important love is. And right now, the only woman who I want to get to know more, who I could possibly love, is you. I’m not playing around. It’s like I saw you and a switch flipped.”

  The doubt still lingered in her expression. “I don’t know …”

  “You don’t have to know.” I was desperate now, and I could feel it to my marrow. “Just let me show you.”

  Exasperated, I see her relent. “If I let you show me, can I get in my car and drive home to take care of my dog?”

  “Yes.” I immediately move out of her way, because she gave me an inch and I don’t want to take a mile.

  Demi rolls her eyes again before she backs out of the parking spot and drives away.

  I just smile to myself, knowing that I just did the single most important thing I’ve managed to do in a long time.

  Fourteen

  Demi

  “I guess this makes lucky number seven. Are you going to forgive him?” My UPS delivery man, Chuck, hands the bouquet over.

  My house is full of roses in every single color. White, red, pink … you name the rose, Paxton Shaw has probably already bought it.

  I smirk. “It is pretty hard to give someone a death glare when your house smells so darn good.”

  Chuck tips his hat. “Well, whatever the poor guy did, I think he’s sorry about it.”

  He walks off after giving Maya a dog treat, and she happily runs into the living room to gobble crumbs off the carpet.

  Since Monday morning, I’ve gotten seven humongous bouquets delivered to my front door. When Paxton had cornered me in the parking lot, I hadn’t really believed he’d show me why I should give him another chance.

  But if there was any way to a woman’s heart, especially one who liked to garden, it was a beautiful flower arrangement. Or seven of them.

  He’d looked so contrite a week ago, standing in front of me talking about his parents. I knew what it was like to lose a loved one, how it changed the very fabric of your being. So, when I looked at him, I saw the complete destruction he caused to my heart.

  But maybe, just maybe, I could believe that an event so tragic had altered the way he viewed the world, and how it made him treat people now.

  I still had so many reservations, so why did I smile every time I walked past my kitchen counter full of flowers? And why did I keep picturing his face, those full lips, as he talked about us and what we could be?

  The ache in the middle of my chest that I thought I’d buried so long ago had resurfaced, pulling at me and making my fingertips tingle when I thought about Pax. Did I want to admit that he was right? That the reason I hadn’t settled down, had broken off my engagement, was because I still had feelings for him. That he was the earth and I was the moon, and I couldn’t help but get pulled back to him.

  Of course, I still had feelings for him, that much was obvious. I couldn’t go three seconds these days without daydreaming about how much he turned me on when we were in college, and how much he’d matured since then. He was like a Hemsworth brother, only sexier, if that was possible. I had to clench my thighs each time I thought about the dusting of stubble that painted his strong jaw. My nipples hardened every time I thought about how he’d used those cherry-crushed lips on me before, and how long it had been since any man had used any set of lips anywhere on me.

  Maya barks next to me and I jump, not noticing she had come into the sun-filled kitchen. Caught daydreaming about sex red-handed.

  “Hi, pretty girl, did you finish your bone?” I bend down, rubbing my cheek on her snout.

  She sits in front of me, her earnest brown eyes staring deeply into mine. Sometimes, I thought she could actually sense what was weighing on my mind.

  Maya licked my cheek, giving me a slobbery wet kiss.

  “Thank you for the kiss, lovely.” I kiss her snout too.

  We nuzzle for a minute more, before she pulls back to look at me.

  “Should I give him another chance? Does he pass your test?” I mutter, more thinking out loud than actually asking my dog a question she’ll never be able to answer.

  Not that she physically answers any question.

  Maya barks again, almost smiling at me as she does a circle, signaling that she wants to play.

  “Okay, fine, let’s go outside, you goof. All of these flowers and their scents are going to give me a headache anyway.”

  Except I still smile one more time as I pass them, before opening the door to my backyard and throwing the ball for my girl.

  Fifteen

  Paxton

  I probably shouldn’t have lured her here under false pretenses, but Ryan had said he wanted to help and I couldn’t deny a sick kid his right to watch true love blossom. Right?

  “What did you tell her, again?” I bounced up and down, too much adrenaline rushing through my veins.

  I was a grown man. I didn’t get nervous. Not in front of thousands of people, and not in crucial games that had everything riding on them.

  But when it came to Demi these days, I was a sweating ball of stress.

  “I told her that there was a charity flag football game I was competing in, and I wanted her to come.” His toothy smile makes me laugh, and I fist bump him for being a sneaky little genius.

  “I mean, it’s not a total lie. You are playing a flag football game. It just isn’t for charity and we won’t be joining you. Although, I love hanging out with you, buddy.”

  Ryan tosses me the football, glancing over his shoulder at where the game is happening. A couple dozen kids from his school throw around, getting their flag belts all hooked on. It makes me happy that even though he’s going through one of the toughest things anyone could ever imagine, especially at that age, that he still feels good enough to come out and play. He’s one hell of a special person.

  “As long as you send me the jersey we were talking about. And tickets to the playoff game.” Ryan does a little dance and I laugh.

  “You drive a hard bargain, but you know I’d happily do it even if you weren’t being a great wingman right now.”

  Just then, Ryan runs forward a little, his skinny legs doing a jitterbug. I look across the park, which is packed on an exceptionally nice Saturday, and there she is.

  Out of all of the hundreds of humans gallivanting in the grass right now, my eyes can’t see a thing but her. Demi has always been the prettiest girl in the room, and her beauty has only
increased in the time I’ve been away from her.

  She walks toward Ryan, waving and happy, until she sees me standing just a few feet over from him. Then her expression turns to a scowl, and she shakes her head at me.

  “Really? You used the kid?” Demi bends down to hug Ryan, but speaks to me, her brown eyes all disapproval.

  I hold up my hands, innocent. “Hey, it was his idea.”

  Ryan releases her. “It was, technically. Now, I gotta go. Have a romantic lunch.” He winks at her. “Give him a chance, he L-O-V-E-S you.”

  We both laugh at his spelling of the word, and I run a hand through my hair as she blushes.

  A few beats go by before I speak. “Well, this isn’t awkward.”

  Demi is standing in front of me, and I can see she is unsure if she should stay. “Well, you got me here.”

  “Yes, and thank you for coming. And staying, when you saw that it was in fact the asshole trying to woo you and not the cute kid who you adore.” I motion to the spread on the ground. “I’ve made us a picnic. A lunchtime, no expectations, no pressure, picnic.”

  Demi’s mouth curves into a small smile. “Okay, Casanova. I’ll stay. But only as long as I can eat all the prosciutto.”

  She eyes the cheese plate I’ve put on the checkered blanket, and I can practically see her mouth water.

  What the hell would my brother, or my teammates, say about me planning a romantic picnic? They’d call me whipped, is what they’d say. They should have seen me researching how to pack a picnic basket, and looking up the best charcuterie ingredients. I thought my dick was going to just about fall off. But I was too concerned with picking the perfect finger sandwiches and stemless wine glasses to care.

  It was a good thing I’d spent my money on basically nothing and no one in five years, because I’d bought the best of everything for my one shot at convincing Demi to give this a real chance. I’d even flown in some fancy wine from Italy that one of the defensive linemen, Jared Jones, had recommended.

  “Did you get home in time for your dog the other night?” I sit down, pouring out glasses and unpacking more food out of the basket.

  In the distance, parents cheer for the children playing in Ryan’s game and we glance over.

  Demi’s eyes trace back to me slowly, and she picks up the glass I set down in front of her. “I did, although she took twenty minutes to go to the bathroom and I could have strangled her. But at the same time, she is the most adorable thing since sliced bread, so …”

  I chuckle. “Didn’t realize sliced bread was adorable.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “How old is she?” I set out the food, and take a risk by making her a plate.

  I must have picked correctly, because she doesn’t make a snarky comment or roll her eyes, just simply starts nibbling at the spread I’ve given her. Inside, I pump my fist and pretend to put one mark on the board in my favor.

  It’s clear that Demi loves her dog, by the way her eyes light up and a small smile touches her full lips. “Maya is three, a golden retriever who loves grilled cheese sandwiches and watching rainstorms through my sliding glass door.”

  “Wow, sounds like my perfect match on a dating website. Is she single?” I pop an olive in my mouth and realize how hungry I am.

  I was so nervous, that I think I forgot to eat breakfast this morning. And maybe dinner last night. Which for an athlete, is unheard of. I usually consume about five thousand calories a day, and that is a strictly tailored diet of protein, carbs and healthy greens. I’m straying from that during this picnic, but the food was expensive and tastes delicious. And I’d been good my entire career, always following everything to the letter to improve my performance. Now that I was near the end, I could feel myself slipping.

  Not just in my diet and exercise habits, but in my personal life as well. I could feel my slide into normalcy, descending from the mountain of champions and stardom to a mortal who would go on dates, mow the lawn, learn how to make pancakes for my kids on a Sunday morning. I couldn’t wait for those things. As much as it was bittersweet that this would be my last season, a fact I hadn’t told many people or announced in the media, I was ready in a way. Ready to become a normal guy, living in the suburbs, letting something bigger than sports or fame dictate and consume me. Letting love, hopefully, consume me.

  “She lays down with dogs, but even you are too big of a dog for her.” Demi smiles, and I know that she’s only half-joking. “So, do you like being back in Charlotte?”

  The first question she’s asked me that isn’t laced with malice or that rhetorical quality as if she doesn’t really care about the answer.

  I look at her, really look at her. And again, I want to mentally kick myself in the balls. Not realistically, because that fucking hurts, but I’m such a moron for treating this girl the way I did all those years ago.

  Clearing my throat, because I realize Demi is looking at me like I have three heads, I stop staring so hard and answer her. “It’s a blast from the past, in more ways than one. I’ll find myself walking down a street, or driving through a certain neighborhood, and remember peeing behind a bush I see on the side of the road. I did a lot of dumb, drunk things here in my youth. So, I guess it’s fun to remember, but also strange for this old man.”

  “Old man? You’re thirty, Pax.”

  My nickname coming off of her lips makes my stomach dip. “In the league, that is ancient. I guess playing football, you always think of yourself as older than you actually are. These young hotshots come in there, their balls barely dropped and walking around like they own the fucking planet. Meanwhile, I’m icing my back after every tackle and taking multivitamins. You should see my pill container, it’s like I’m in a nursing home.”

  That makes her laugh, the sound akin to angels flying, or puppies barking, or something equally as cute. “Well, I think that old dogs are wiser, and can be more handsome.”

  Tilting my head, I move in a little closer. “Demi Rosen, are you flirting with me?”

  She doesn’t pull away, those long eyelashes fluttering in a slow blink. “I must have forgotten to take my meds this morning.”

  “Must have,” I murmur, stroking a finger along her cheek.

  Demi doesn’t run, but I see the fear. I have to do this right, erase all the memories of me being a dirtbag from her brain. I know she has regret and hurt tattooed on her heart, and I put it there. So I can’t take anything that she hasn’t explicitly given me. I can’t push her whatsoever, I have to let her call the shots this time around.

  Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and I know it’s a reflex … something she can’t control. I’ve seen her do it a hundred times before, in my bed, in a closet at a party, in the shadowed tree line just out of sight.

  The sound of afternoon sports games rings out in the park, music and chatter and birds filling up any leftover air space.

  I lean farther in and can hear how shallow both hers and my breathing is. “I want to kiss you right now. Believe me, there is nothing I want more. But I’m not going to. When I kiss you for the first time, in a long time, I want you to give me permission. I want you to be completely sure, to make the call. So, Demi, can I kiss you?”

  We’re in a trance, a bubble of our own surrounded by hundreds of people all going about their own business.

  “No.” The word is a breath, a whisper, but her eyes say yes.

  Immediately, I take my hand away from her jaw. “What you say goes. I promise.”

  We can’t stop looking at each other, and even though that animalistic need to capture her mouth rages inside me, I won’t pursue it.

  Not until she tells me I can.

  Sixteen

  Demi

  It’s funny; parts of this feel so familiar, and parts of it feel so new that it’s throwing me for a loop.

  After the picnic lunch, and the almost kiss, Paxton packs all of the empty containers and blanket into the backpack he’s brought and throws it on his ba
ck.

  “Let’s go for a walk.” He lifts his big, lean body, offering me a hand once he’s standing.

  Is it bad that my stomach flutters when he pulls me up, his muscled arm acting as if I weigh about two pounds? It reminds of the time we had sex, him holding me up against the wall and impaling—

  “You okay?” Pax looks at me, his eyes happy and bright.

  I can’t help but blush. Do you think he knows what I was just thinking about? “Yep, I’m fine.”

  My voice is a bit high, but we start to walk. There is an unsettled tension between us since I told him he couldn’t kiss me, but he seems to have taken it with a grain of salt and moved right past it. Just like that, he’d pulled back and kept his hands to himself, a pure gentleman move. I wasn’t used to it, not from Paxton Shaw.

  I also wasn’t used to him wanting to kiss me in broad daylight, in front of people. I was trained to expect stolen glances, midnight texts, anything but sweetness and asking for permission. This reserved, polite man is a new version of a person I used to hate … so could I hate him still?

  I was so conflicted that I almost miss Paxton stopping mid-stride and asking me a question.

  “Want some?” Pax points to an Italian ice vendor, and I nod, always in the mood for a sweet treat.

  We walk over together, wait in line behind a cute family with their infant daughter, the cherry ice dribbling down her chin as her mom tries to feed it to her.

  “I’ll take a blueberry please, and the lady will have …?” Pax pauses, his wallet open as he waits for my answer.

  “I’ll have cherry, thanks.”

  We get our water ice and keep walking, the sweetness cooling me down after sweat pooled in my bra at having this man almost kiss me.

  Pax looks over at me, about to say something, when a silly smile breaks out on his mouth. “You have …”