by Danica Avet
“What do you feel like for dinner?” she asks, completely oblivious to my pain.
We’ve had dinner nearly every night with the exception of the night of last week’s game. I’d been invited to dine with the coaches from the other school and she’d gone with the drumline. We’ve hit six of the town’s twelve restaurants that aren’t part of a chain, which is fine, but I’ve had to share her every meal. Katie’s popular with her students and I’m popular with football fans, so nearly every time we’re out, we’re interrupted by people who want to talk to one of us, or both of us.
“I was actually thinking of cooking for us,” I say casually, making sure my attention is fixed on the road and not her. Do I plan to seduce her? No. I promised her I wouldn’t, but if she wants to seduce me, I’m all for it.
“I don’t know,” she says slowly. “You can just drop me off at home. I’m sure I have something I can heat up tonight.”
I glance over to see her frowning, some of her brightness fading. With disappointment? I hope so, as much of a dick as that makes me sound, I want her to be addicted to me, to having me around, and if she doesn’t like the thought of us not having dinner tonight, I’m almost there.
“I want to cook,” I say easily. “I have some chicken breasts and steak marinating at home. I thought about making you my world-famous fajitas.” Good thing Mom actually taught me to fend for myself, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to lure her to my house. God, I sound like a stalker. “Come on, not to sound conceited, but I make pretty kick ass fajitas.”
She looks over at me, that frown still in place and all I want to do is smooth it away, but if I touch her…
“I guess, but I can’t stay long,” she finally concedes and I bite back a shout of triumph. “I have some tests to grade.”
“You can grade them while I’m grilling,” I suggest. “I’ll pour you some wine and you can sit out on the patio, keep me company while you work. It’ll be fine.”
Because the longer I can keep her at my house, the more I can show her we belong together as more than just friends.
Kate
This is probably a bad idea but, as I watch Shaun at the grill, I can’t seem to make myself care. Taking another sip of the pinot noir he’s poured for me, I let the wine sit on my tongue before swallowing. Dragging my gaze away from his tight ass takes a lot of effort, but I manage, focusing on the papers in front of me.
It’s the first time I’ve ever been to his house and I like it. A lot. He doesn’t have a lot in terms of decoration, but then he’s a man and I wasn’t expecting it, but it’s comfortable. I’d stared at the massive flat screen television in his living room, gawked at his gourmet kitchen and the backyard.
I sigh.
The backyard is an oasis of tranquility. Melodramatic, yes, but it’s perfect. If I had a patio like this, I’d probably never leave home. If I had a man like Shaun on that patio, I’d make sure to ravish him, or have him ravish me, at least twice a day back here. I take another peek at him just as he turns around, and I quickly drop my gaze again.
The tests I’m “grading” are more like quizzes and I have a feeling that unless my students were cheating, my class is too easy. Either that, or they’re really getting into the class. I hope that’s the case because I enjoy teaching them. Surprising, but true. I think they’re enjoying the class as well because the blank stares have faded into interested, intent expressions over the last few weeks. It makes me feel great.
In fact, nearly everything’s going wonderfully in my life. With the exception of two things. This friendship with Shaun, which is becoming increasingly more difficult to keep platonic, and the show I want to pitch to Mark. In both cases it isn’t a matter of not knowing how to reach my goal so much as finding the courage to do so.
I want to take a chance on Shaun because I like him. A lot. We talk about work, about what we want to see in our new hometown, the games coming up, my drumline and everything in between. He hasn’t really spoken about his marriage except to say he’s waiting for his divorce to be finalized and yes, I’ve double-checked and it’s on record that they’ve filed. But even if I hadn’t searched, I trust him to tell me the truth. He’s a good man, one I’ve become far more comfortable with the longer we’re friends. Even better, he hasn’t pressured me for more, although I can see it in his eyes when I catch him off-guard. He wants more. I want more. The only thing holding me back is his current marital status. Is it cheating if he’s officially separated? I just don’t know and I don’t know if my heart can take the pummeling it would receive if he suddenly decided he wanted to be with her instead of me.
The show, on the other hand, is a matter of nerves. I’m petrified.
Shaun sits across the table from me and reaches for his beer. “Have you talked with Mark about your show yet?” he asks, casually resting one ankle on the opposite knee.
I stare at him. It’s uncanny the way he seems to read my mind. Maybe it was a football player thing? They’re pretty good at interpreting hidden signals as far as I can tell. It’s just weird, but I don’t mind him asking because I need input.
Throwing my pen on the table, I grab the glass of wine. “No,” I mumble into the glass.
“What are you waiting for? I thought you said you were going to talk with him about it this week.”
I pull out the scrunchie holding my hair back and run my hand through the strands. “I do and I want to, but…” I pause, shutting my eyes. “What if he says no? What if he hates the idea and thinks I’m not good enough for Sauvage? I like it here, Shaun. I don’t want to be forced out.” Again. “Maybe I should just wait until next year to rebel, get more established in the position before I start throwing out wild ideas.”
Shaun takes a sip of his beer, eyes on me over the bottle.
“That girl who became the first female in that drum corps? She wasn’t a coward,” he finally says when he lowers his arm. “The woman who challenged an arrogant little shit to a drum off? She isn’t a coward. So don’t act like one now.”
“But this is more than just joining up with a squad or setting the tone with a bunch of students. This is a show that’ll be performed and televised, something completely unlike anything Sauvage has done before,” I remind him, my voice urgent. “This is my career at stake, Mark’s career. What if the administration hates it? There has to be a reason no one’s done a pop show like this before, maybe it’s because they’re conservative.”
“Or maybe it’s because no one had the balls to push the envelope,” he says softly, leaning his arms on the table. “Katie, do you believe in your show? No, wait.” He holds his hand up, forestalling my response. “Think about it objectively. Do you believe in your show? Will the audience enjoy it?”
Nibbling on my lip, I think about what I’d done as a Red Mask member, the shows I’d performed in college, and I nod. “Yes, the student body should really like it and we have a good mix of young and old fans in the audience who’d appreciate it.”
“Are you planning to conduct any kind of ritualistic sacrifice or sexual rites on the field?”
I gape at him. “What? Fuck no! Are you crazy?”
His grin is divine and teasing. “Then what’s the big deal? Didn’t you tell me Mark trusted you with arranging stand music for the games?” I nod, fiddling with my glass of wine. “He also gave you the run of the drumline and, from what you’ve told me, this show of yours will highlight the talent you have. That’s what football is all about, you know?”
I shake my head, not sure what the hell he’s talking about and not really caring. Not when he gets that intent look in his eyes. It’s like his passion for life is infectious and I can almost feel my self-esteem strengthening. Just because he believes in me. He hasn’t seen my show, only knows what I’ve told him, but he has faith in me and it touches my heart in ways Adam never had.
“Every team has a weakness, some of them have several,” he explains leaning forward even more, his enthusiasm bleeding through his voice. “A t
eam, though, isn’t a single individual running the show. It’s a sum of all individuals, and, to make it work, you play to your strengths while hiding your weaknesses. It’s the same with your band. You have a top-notch drumline. The way you’ve explained your show, you plan to use them as the cardiovascular system of the band, bringing confidence to the weaker elements. That’s what a coach does on the field. Find the pulse of the team and help it flourish until it affects the rest of the players.” He reaches out to cover my hand. “You can do this, Katie.”
My heart feels close to bursting. “Thank you,” I whisper, stupid tears stinging my eyes.
He smiles and I fall a little in love with him. “You already knew all of this, babe,” he says with a squeeze of my hand. “You just needed a kick in the ass to get with the program.”
His thumb strokes my skin briefly before he gets up to take the meat off the grill, but I feel it for hours afterward and, as I lie in my bed that night, I can’t help but wonder if he was talking about my show or our relationship.
Shaun
We’re in the middle of a pre-game briefing when my phone suddenly goes off. Buddy shoots me a glare and I almost reject the call when I see Katie’s name on the screen. She doesn’t call me often, so seeing that she’s calling now—when I know she’s meeting with Mark this morning—means I’m damn well accepting it.
Leaping from my seat, I hurry from the room, ignoring the looks from the rest of the staff, and close the door behind me. My heart is pounding. I fucking hope she has good news because if Mark rejects her idea, she’ll be crushed. The thought of Katie heartbroken hurts me and right there, in the middle of the locker room, I realize I’m stupid in love with her.
I shake my head and press accept. “Hello?”
“Shaun!” She squeals in my ear loud enough that I’m kind of worried she may have permanently damaged my hearing. “Oh my God, Shaun, he said yes!”
I slump against the wall, a goofy smile tugging at my lips. “Babe, that’s fucking fantastic,” I say warmly. “I knew he would, but you need to take a deep breath before you hyperventilate.” She’s panting, she’s so excited. While I enjoy the sound, I’d rather she make it when I’m inside her. “Congratulations, honey. I’m fucking proud of you.”
“Oh Shaun,” she says breathlessly. “I can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t given me that pep talk last night… I don’t know what I would’ve done. No, I know what I would’ve done. I wouldn’t have worked up the nerve to pitch the idea to him. And he loved it. He said he always wanted to do a more current show, but he never felt comfortable with it.” She takes a deep breath. “We start practicing next week! Mark’s going to make the announcement this afternoon. If you um, want to be there for it. You don’t have to though. I’ll understand if you don’t—”
“I’ll definitely be there,” I say with a grin. She squeals again and I close my eyes. Fucking perfect. “I’m so happy for you, baby.” My voice is a grumble of contentment because if Katie’s happy, I’m more than happy. “How about we go out to somewhere nice tonight to celebrate?”
“That would be awesome, Shaun,” she says, voice husky and intimate.
My body immediately leaps to attention and I open my eyes, scanning the locker room to make sure I’m still alone. “Sounds like a date, baby. I’ll pick you up at the same time this afternoon.”
“Okay.” I can hear the smile in her tone. “And Shaun?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for believing in me,” she whispers shyly, and I know she’s blushing. “You’re the best.”
Without thinking, I give her a hint of what I’m feeling. “I’ll always believe in you, Katie.”
We’re both silent for a moment and I wonder if maybe I’ve scared her off. Then she says, “I can’t wait until tonight.”
I smile. “Me too. I’ll see you at five-thirty, babe.”
“Okay,” she whispers. “I’ll see you later.”
I hang up and stare down at my phone for a minute before I throw my fist in the air with a silent, “YES”. Composing myself as best I can, I re-enter the meeting room and try to pretend my mind is on the game we have tomorrow night and not on the woman who makes me absolutely crazy with happiness.
Hours later I watch as Moody runs a quick out route, catching the pass Beau throws as though the ball is drawn to his hand. He takes off downfield, leaving the defenders in his dust, and I feel a burst of pride. They’re going to slaughter the Dolphins tomorrow. I feel it in my gut.
My phone rings and I answer without looking, thinking it’s Katie again. She’s called me twice already, unable to contain her excitement, and if I hadn’t been needed for the weight training session with my guys earlier, I’d have tracked her down on campus. But I didn’t. I need to take this slower, give her time to learn to trust me, to fall in love with me. Then I’d snap her up and never let her go.
“Hello?”
“Hey Shaun.”
The purred voice is one that used to turn me on, back when I was an idiot being led around by my dick. I scowl at the field, no longer seeing my unit. Not with Denise deciding to call me at this very fucking moment.
“Denise,” I say shortly, my sense of satisfaction fading quick. “Finally returning my calls?”
She laughs. “Oh Shaun, you’re always so grumpy! You should come to this spa, it would do you some good.”
“No thanks, I think one of us pissing away hundreds of thousands of dollars is enough, don’t you? At this rate, there won’t be anything left to fulfill the settlement.” Yeah, it’s a shitty thing to say, but I’m tired of handling her with kid gloves, despite what Madison cautioned.
Denise makes a scoffing noise. “Please, I read the news. I know you signed a ten million dollar contract with that school,” she says, a sneer in her voice on the final word. “You’re doing just fine even with my needed therapy. It’s been very hard, you know.” Her tone softens. “I miss you.”
The phone casing creaks in protest when my hand clenches around it. “Johnny not able to get you into the parties you love so much?”
“Oh darling, that was just a momentary lapse of judgment. You know I love you.” Her voice lowers even more. “I want us to get back together. I can forgive you…being with that woman. We can be happy again, muffin.”
God, I hate it when she calls me muffin.
“Not. Happening.” My tone is unyielding. How the fuck she thinks I would want her back after she exposed herself as a greedy bitch is beyond me but, then again, I don’t think Denise thinks about much except her own wants and needs. Fuck everyone and everything else. “Now what did you really call for? Is it to tell me you’re ready to sign the agreement so we can both get on with our lives?”
Her sniff is loud and clear. I close my eyes and let my head fall back. Fuck me.
“Eleven years, Shaun. We had eleven years together. Even with my lapse in judgment with Johnny, how can you expect me to just end it like this?”
“Denise…”
She sniffs again. “Well, Doctor Westerberg has a new treatment he thinks would help me…” She pauses for effect and I wonder if she’s been taking acting lessons. She’d mentioned it once a few years ago, but I never thought she’d practice on me. “Help me to come to grips with the divorce.”
“Okay.”
“It’s a new procedure that sort of helps to reboot the brain.” She starts talking faster as her enthusiasm grows. “He’s the foremost expert in sensory deprivation and he believes if I go through the reprogramming, he can help me pinpoint what triggers my self-destructive behavior and then I can work on removing those triggers from my life. Judy Halloway had it done after that movie she was in. You know the one, where she played the serial killer? She was all messed up in the head after that and she had the procedure done with Dr. Westerberg and now she’s doing so much better.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “How much?” I say into my palm, because I know this is going to cost me a small fortune.
&nbs
p; “Two hundred thousand? It’s for the whole treatment,” she rushes to add, as though that’ll soften the blow to my bank account. “It includes four sessions with the sensory deprivation chamber, a full personality mockup, twelve hours of therapy and a complete redesign of my home to remove the triggers from my surroundings. Did you know that there’s a possibility that velvet might be causing my behavior? And to think that I’ve been wearing—”
I cut in because I don’t want to hear anymore bullshit. “I’ll wire the money to your account. I expect to have a response to the agreement by the end of next month.”
Hanging up the phone before she says anything else to piss me off, I lower my head to see my unit eyeing me questioningly. I want to bark at them, to take my anger out on them, but they don’t deserve it. This mess with Denise is my own fucking fault and it was my mess to clean up.
Buddy blows his whistle and shouts, “Okay, that’s enough for today! Hit the showers and get some rest so we can kick ass tomorrow!”
The players cheer, glad to get off the field. My friend and boss comes to stand next to me as we watch the guys head to the locker rooms, knowing they weren’t going to rest the way they were told to. No, they’re going to party and fuck because they’re young and think they’re invincible.
“That your ex on the phone?” Buddy asks, once we’re mostly alone on the sideline.
My jaw bunches and I nod. “She wants a special treatment to help her come to terms with the divorce.”
He barks out a laugh that isn’t funny at all. “Yeah, my first and second wives were like that,” he mutters with a shake of his head. “Neither of ’em came from money, but the minute I started making it, they sure did take to spending it.”
“Then you met Cathy.” Buddy’s third wife was a sweet woman who made the best damn chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever tasted.
“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod. “Then there’s Cathy. Sometimes you have to go through the bad shit to realize how good you have it. Like when Cathy starts talking about redecorating the house. Now, we’ve had the living room painted five times, new furniture and doo-dads replaced six times and we’ve lived there for fifteen years. That’s a fuck of a lot of decorating, but when I start getting’ hot under the collar about the cost, I remember she could be gamblin’ and pissin’ my money away. She does it because she wants me and our grandkids to be comfortable, so I let her.”
