by Liz Matis
Should he go out there? Nate shouldn’t be taking the heat for this. He couldn’t make out what Hannah said next but what Nate said in response was crystal clear.
“I will not stand for another seven months of you being a bitch.”
Silence. Jake arched an eyebrow. Was someone dead?
Jake heard Hannah burst out into tears. “I’m sorry, Nate.”
“Oh, sweetie, don’t cry.”
“Why do you put up with me?” More sobbing.
Jake wondered if she was PMS’ing. That would explain everything.
“Cause I’m your gay guardian angel in disguise. Now, go talk to him. No, wait. Go, LISTEN.”
Jake returned to the stove, turned off the heat under the sauce, and stirred the pasta one more time.
She turned the corner and walked right over to him with her arms folded in a defensive gesture. “Jake we have to—”
He cut her off with a spoonful of sauce.
“Mmmm, that is delicious!” Her arms relaxed to her sides. “We have to talk,” she said softly.
He smiled at the effect of his mother’s creation. Perhaps he should send a jar over to the United Nations. “After we eat, when you’re not feeling so…cranky.”
Hannah smirked before turning to the table. “Oh!”
Jake went all out. Tablecloth, cloth napkins, candles, china and silverware and of course flowers. For a moment he worried about her getting the wrong idea. The scene was set for a proposal.
“Did Nate help you?”
“He just got me in the door.” Jake pulled out a chair.
Hannah smiled sweetly but sat down in the other seat. Holding his frustration in check he readied the rest of the meal and poured the wine. He took the seat that she didn’t and they ate in silence—except for the little moans of pleasure escaping her mouth. His crotch tightened and he hoped ‘the talk’ didn’t take too long. Figuring she’d take a couple of bites and feign a full stomach, he was impressed with the amount she consumed.
Her plate was nearly empty when she said, “Why didn’t you tell me about the trade?”
Jake leaned back in his seat and chuckled. “That’s what this is about?” However, Hannah didn’t seem amused.
“You make it sound like it’s not important. Like I’m not important enough to discuss your life with.”
“Its a game, Hannah. The team will flinch. I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned forward and reached for her hand. “Anywhere.”
“You don’t know that for sure.” She snatched her hand away. “I shouldn’t have to find out from someone else. You need to communicate.”
That word was a curse on men. “We’ve been busy.”
“Gee, you had time to lecture me on my diet.”
From the opening of the kitchen Nate said, “Just tell her you were wrong.”
“Nate!”
“I’m going. I’m going.”
Jake laughed. “He’s a good friend.”
After taking a sip of wine she said, “I don’t know whether to hug him or fire him.”
“I think we all know the answer to that.”
“Hmm, that doesn’t mean I want to hug you at this moment—or anything else.” She took another bite of pasta.
Jake wasn’t about to heed Nate’s advice and apologize. It would set a bad precedent and besides it wasn’t like he cheated or forgot her birthday. “Look, going forward I’ll update you on the contract talks.”
Hannah looked away and didn’t seem satisfied with his compromise, so he decided to push back a little. “And it’s not like you came clean when I asked what happened between you and your parents.”
“That is ancient history.”
“Not when it’s sitting here at the table like a third wheel.” And there it was—the reason he needed to know. The reason he pushed. He couldn’t slay her dragons if he couldn’t see them.
Annoyed how he expertly turned this around on her, she also acknowledged that communication was a two way street. For her, it was a road less traveled so Hannah weighed each word carefully so she wouldn’t reveal too much. “I was eleven when my father left. My mother was thirty-five. He found a younger version of her and took off to Vegas.” She reached for the wine and poured. The easiest part of her story was over with and hopefully he wouldn’t dig any deeper.
“So you have daddy issues?”
The glass of wine halted midway to her lips. “I have parental issues.” Bringing the glass the rest of the way she down the contents like a sailor instead of a supermodel.
“What’s the deal with your Mom?”
Shame and embarrassment caused Hannah to examine the place mat, to look anywhere but at Jake. “When I was sixteen my mother said derogatory—no hateful remarks regarding an African-American who received a national campaign over me.” If she looked up would she see judgment in his eyes? The color of his skin, which Hannah found so intoxicating, would cause her mother to shudder in revulsion.
“The modeling agency threw my mother out of the building. On the way home she turned her rant on me, calling me fat and put me on a diet. At least that’s what she calls starvation. It was a week later after passing out in school that Social Services stepped in.”
She risked a glance but then his gaze held hers captive.
Were those tears forming in his eyes or merely a reflection of her gaze? She shot up out of her seat and with shaky hands placed the plate in the sink, then held onto the counter for dear life as she rushed on with the rest. “Anyway, I was allowed to emancipate myself with the help of Samantha’s parents and the agency hired a chaperone for overseas assignments until I was eighteen.”
Hannah would never reveal the rest of her pathetic history.
She turned to clean off the rest of the table but Jake was right there wrapping her up in a tight embrace. He smoothed her hair as he brushed a kiss on her forehead. The tears that threatened spilled onto her cheeks. Scooping her up into his arms he carried her into the bedroom as if she weighed nothing more than a child. Putting her down, he tilted her chin. Soft light reflected in his eyes making them appear layered in amber.
“You are amazing, Hannah. Even with shit for parents you became a successful and giving woman.”
“But I’m still a mess.”
“Everyone is.”
“Even you?”
Ah, crap. I walked right into that one.
Despite the oh-so-innocent eyes looking at him she did exactly what he did a few minutes ago, redirected the conversation. Perhaps it was best to get the past out into the open and deal with it so they could get on to more pleasurable activities. He motioned for her to sit down. “I have a juvie record.”
“What did you do?”
“I beat up my older brother’s tormentor.”
“Your older brother?”
“I was thirteen—a large thirteen. My brother was fifteen. And gay.” Confused over Vinnie’s sexual orientation and angry with his father for leaving the family because of it, Jake released it all in a fury of fists on the boy who taunted his brother.
“That’s so sweet. And stupid.”
He sat down next to her. “Like I said, I was thirteen.” He learned quickly that he couldn’t fight his brother’s battles. Over time the confusion became clarity and he channeled the anger at his father onto the football field.
“So any parental issues?”
He wouldn’t tell her how his father blamed his mother nor about the night he left leaving Jake with a black eye to toughen him up so as his father put it ‘you don’t end up a fag like your brother.’ Some things you just don’t talk about. “None.”
“Commitment issues?”
“Not fair, we’ve both got that one.”
“Okay, then why me? Why now?”
“Because it hurts more to stay away.” Shut up, Jake. Shut up now. Shut up before you tell her you love her. Bring it back to sex. The day had been hell and all he wanted to do was lose himself inside her and find Heaven again.
H
annah climbed onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping her legs around him. His hands naturally drifted to her ass.
“I was miserable too, you know.”
Their gazes locked. One week of bliss, then seven months of hell, of being a blind man granted sight then it cruelly taken away. Could he survive it again? Better to have love and lost than to never have loved at all. Bullshit!
Determined not to lose, he stood with her in his arms and then kneeled on the bed sliding her off to lie on her back before him. Needing her naked and exposed he yanked the two sides of her button down shirt apart. The sight before him made him pause in wonder. “Ah, you’re wearing it.”
“It gave me a twisted satisfaction to think you wouldn’t see it.”
“You’re evil.”
A saucy smile appeared on her face. “Yes, but in a good way.”
Laughing he helped her shimmy out of her jeans. And there they were, the panties that he’d been thinking about all day. All it would take is a slight tug on the bow for all to be revealed. “I feel like a kid on Christmas morning.”
“Were you a good boy?”
“Apparently I was.” He twirled the ribbon around his finger then pulled on the ribbon and the lacy fabric parted to the V of her clit. “I think Victoria Secret has a bestseller here.”
“I’ll tell marketing.”
“You won’t be able to form a coherent sentence when I’m done with you.”
“You’re all talk. No tongue.”
He trailed kisses along the curves of her body. Upon reaching the edges of her panties his tongue slipped in. Her hips arched begging for more. Inspired by the ribbon he rubbed the fabric back and forth between the folds of her sex as his tongue continued to flick.
“Jake, Jake, Jake,” she panted.
Blood raged through his body as she called his name over and over again. Even eighty thousand fans chanting his name never made him feel so amped.
The moment he added pressure her legs clamped around his head. The shuddering of Hannah’s body sent waves of vibrations through his. The sweet elixir of her essence became apart of him, a drink of the Gods.
In record time he lost his pants and rolled on a condom. Stretching his body on top of hers he entered her soft wetness.
Hannah’s closed eyes fluttered open. “Jake, I…that was amazing.”
Her unshed tears broke him. Was she about to tell him she loved him? Suddenly he knew if she chose to stomp all over his heart he’d let her.
Eyes locked together he moved with slow but deep strokes and for once she didn’t beg for more. There would be no frantic end this time. If they were both too afraid to say it with words then their bodies spoke of the love between them until the passion became too much and they trembled into each other’s arms.
Minutes later Jake was barely conscious when Hannah who seemed filled with enough energy to go ten rounds asked, “Jake, what’s fantasy football?”
Chapter 9
Hannah relaxed into Janu Sirsasana, a head-to-knee forward yoga pose, while Samantha struggled into the position. With Jake at training camp and with no modeling assignments until next week she had hours upon hours to fill. So did her best friend who whined over the phone about missing Ryan. Hannah invited her to the apartment to share a yoga session with her new instructor, Theresa. Then at lunch Samantha would teach Hannah about football. If she wanted to survive as a celebrity girlfriend to a NFL football player she needed to know her x’s and o’s. Being perceived as Jake’s dumb supermodel arm candy is not an image she wished to encourage. Even though Jake explained it in detail, she still didn’t comprehend the attraction of fantasy football. But Jake didn’t complain when she showed him her version of the game.
In the background the TV was on mute with the channel set on a local sports station. Hannah was hoping to catch a glimpse of Jake. Saying goodbye to him was like saying goodbye to a part of herself and she wouldn’t be whole again until he came home. Yes, home. They were living together though neither of them said it out loud.
Was he missing her? Was he even thinking about her?
They moved into the next position and she held in a laugh as Theresa tried to bend Samantha into the Camel Pose.
“That’s it. I can’t do this!” Samantha untangled herself. “I’m not Gumby, you know.”
“Oh, come on. Ryan will love the new flexibility,” Hannah teased.
“That’s true,” said Theresa in a woman of the world wisdom tone.
“I have other skills,” replied Samantha in an equally sage voice.
Hannah hooted. “I bet you do!”
“I’m grabbing something to eat. You do have food, don’t you?”
“Yes, I even have ice cream.” Freaking men. Last night she wallowed into a pint of Rocky Road.
“Wow, it must be love. No man has driven you to ice cream,” said Samantha as she left the room.
“I’m not in love, merely horny.”
Hannah heard Samantha snort from the kitchen. Theresa started to work with her but out of the corner of her eye Jake appeared on the screen. “Wait!” The instructor stepped back as Hannah reached for the remote to turn the volume on.
“You two are impossible to work with!”
Hannah barely noticed Theresa packing up to leave. The reporter was interviewing Jake outside a campus building about his fat new contract and in the background several college girls in skimpy summer clothes lingered. “Samantha, do you still have your press credentials?” she shouted.
“Yes. Why?” she called back from the kitchen.
“I think we should crash training camp.”
Samantha came into the living room licking peanut butter off a spoon. “Not even wives are allowed-.” She nearly walked into Hannah who was pointing to the TV. “They might as well be wearing bikinis!”
“Road trip?”
“You better get used to it now. Once the season starts it will get worse,” advised Samantha.
“I know, but I miss him. If I devour another pint of ice cream I’m going to explode.” The reporter turned to speak to Ryan and Hannah pointed to the TV. “Come on, don’t you miss him?”
Samantha nodded but said, “We might get them into trouble with the coaches.”
“Yeah, but we’re worth it.”
An hour later they were heading out of the city. A road trip in Ryan’s 350I was a lot different than the time they took to the highway in Samantha’s beat up pickup truck the summer after their high school graduation. The car, the clothes, hairstyles may be different but they were still the same girls hoping for adventure.
“Have you told him?”
“What?”
“That you love him.”
“Hell, no. Not going to either.” Hannah cranked up the radio to tune out any further inquiries from the former reporter, turned author, who was known for getting people to talk. Some people called her the Obi-Wan of journalists. Hannah called her nosy.
Three hours later they pulled into the parking lot of the college campus where the Cougars held their two-week training camp every summer. Jake said it helped the players focus solely on football without outside distractions, and bonded them together as a team, as a family. Hannah tried to understand but she was never a part of something like that. Modeling was more of a solitary endeavor, competing with other models for the gig. Yes there were photographers and makeup artists but truthfully the product she was selling was more important than she was.
And family? What little she knew of them came from the Jamesons.
Samantha turned off the engine. “Okay, now what?”
“I was thinking you could sneak me into one of the training rooms while they are out on the field then I’ll text him my location.”
“Wow, you have this all figured out, except no phones on the field.”
“Can you get onto the field and talk to him?”
Samantha reached over to the glove box. “What good are my press credentials if I can’t use them to help you score?”
“Hey, you got to see a locker room full of naked men.”
“For my job. And they weren’t all naked.” Samantha opened the car door and got out.
Hannah followed suit and said, “Still.”
“Believe me the fantasy is better than the reality.”
“OMG! I just thought of something. You saw Jake’s penis!”
“Like I said they weren’t all naked, so some were.” said Samantha with a wink.
Which didn’t answer Hannah’s question, but the facial expression on her friend’s face did.
Samantha ignored Ryan’s questioning stare by watching Jake sprint to the building where Hannah waited for him. She hoped no one from the team’s staff wandered into the building and catches the two in a compromising position.
“What’s going on?” asked Ryan.
She turned to her new husband, a little miffed that he didn’t seem happy to see her. “We were watching the morning news. Hannah freaked out when a bunch of scantly dressed college girls were waiting in the background like vultures.”
“Just Hannah?”
“Yep. I’m just along for the ride.”
“Liar.”
“Okay, maybe I was a little jealous.”
“Terell, no wives!” The coach screamed from across the field.
Samantha winced. She used to be a foreign correspondent, then the Cougars beat reporter and now she was relegated to a mere football wife.
“She’s here on business.” Ryan shouted back.
“Then she should know better, no reporters on the field during practice.”
“You better go before I get fined or worse.”
Samantha resisted kissing Ryan goodbye in front of his teammates and coaches but did smack him on the ass before turning to leave the field.
“You’ll pay for that one Mrs. Terell.”
“Counting on it.”
Ryan caught up with her and pulled right into a kiss. The honeymoon was definitely not over. A perfect blend of sweetness and passion his kiss made it clear he missed her. He pulled away, his eyes still filled with the same intensity as the first time he kissed her.
“You know you have nothing to worry about.”
“I know.” Samantha left the field to go up into the stands to wait for Hannah hoping that she and Jake were headed for their own happy ever after.
