For Forester (For You #2)

by J. Nathan

  I laughed as I grabbed the door handle. “Oh, so you’re into the ditzy ones.”

  The sound of his laughter filled me with an unfamiliar feeling. A terrifying one.

  “See,” I teased. “I’ve got you all figured out.”

  “You think you do.”

  “I’ve got my psych degree, you know?”

  He tucked his lips, suppressing a smile. “Should that scare me?”

  “I have a feeling nothing scares you.”

  He laughed again and time seemed to stall as his eyes moved over my features.

  “What?” I asked, wondering if he was taking in the lines around my eyes that girls his age didn’t have yet.

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  I glanced at the clock on the TV. “You should probably get going. Don’t want you to be late for your date.”

  He made his way down the front steps, but twisted back to face me. “You busy tomorrow?”

  I looked at him curiously. “Busy?”

  “Yeah. I wanna take you somewhere.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “I’ve got something I wanna show you and CJ,” he explained.

  Of course he meant the two of us. Why would he have just meant me? “Where?”

  “Another question? Seriously? Do you have a better offer?”

  I tilted me head, laying on the sass. “You haven’t told me what you’re offering.”

  “Time with me. Is there anything better?”

  My lips twisted as I debated my response. “Not in CJ’s book.”

  “In yours?”

  I stared back at him, noncommittal. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was touching that one.

  “Fine,” he relented. “I’ll pick you guys up at noon.” He turned to walk away, calling over his shoulder. “Oh, and dress comfortably.”

  As the darkness swallowed him whole, I closed the door and leaned my back against it. What the hell had I just agreed to?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Marin

  CJ flew out the front door, greeting Trace in the driveway as soon as he stepped out of his black truck. I locked the front door, turning just in time to see Trace help CJ climb in the small backseat, wrapping the seatbelt around him.

  “Wait.” I motioned toward my car beside his. “I need to grab his booster seat.”

  “He’s all set,” Trace said as he shut the back door and rounded the truck to my side, pulling open the front passenger door. “I picked one up.”

  My mouth parted as I walked toward him. “You bought a booster seat?”

  He laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. It was like thirty bucks. And I plan on taking him places if that’s okay with you.”

  I shook my head, unable to fully process what he’d done and why he’d done it.

  “I’ve heard puppies, wedding rings, and babies are a major turn-on for women, but you had to see the looks I got carrying the booster seat through the store.”

  I smiled, grabbing the handrail and pulling myself up into the passenger seat imagining what he must’ve looked like walking through that store. “You probably should’ve tried that one sooner.”

  Trace laughed as he closed my door. Once he sat beside me on the bench seat, he turned to look at me, giving me a once over that sent goosebumps scattering over my skin. His eyes zoned in on my legs. The cutoffs I’d chosen didn’t seem so short until they rode up in the seat beside him.

  “Where’re we going?” CJ asked.

  Trace’s eyes jumped away, meeting CJ’s in the rearview mirror as his truck roared to life. “It’s a surprise.”

  An hour into our trip, CJ had fallen asleep in the backseat. All the exercise he’d been getting with Trace had obviously wiped him out.

  “If you’re hungry, I packed a lunch,” Trace said.

  I looked over at him curiously. “You’re taking us on a picnic?”

  He smiled. “Not exactly, but it’s a bit of ride, so...”

  “So you thought you’d pack us a lunch?” I said, stunned anyone other than a mother would’ve thought ahead like that.

  “Don’t be too impressed,” he laughed. “I just made sandwiches.”

  I held up my palms. “Hey, I’m not complaining. If I didn’t have to make them, it works for me.”

  He smiled as I turned to my window and gazed out.

  “I know where you’re taking us,” I said, glancing back at him a little while later.

  Trace’s eyes cut to mine. “Oh, yeah?”

  I nodded. “You’re taking us to your school.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “It’s where I went. I know the way.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  I nodded. “Though, I wasn’t a nineteen-year-old senior.”

  His eyes jumped between me and the road. “How do you know how old I am?”

  My face fell, my mind searching for a reply that wouldn’t make me sound like a crazy person. “Oh, you were like eleven or twelve when I moved in, weren’t you? I kind of remember that.”

  His eyes narrowed, like he didn’t completely buy my response. “Yeah.”

  “But aren’t seniors twenty-one?”

  “Yeah. But I skipped third grade.”

  My head retracted. “No way.”

  He nodded. “Yep. And my birthday’s November third, so I’ll technically be a twenty-year-old senior instead of the normal twenty-one or twenty-two.”

  “How’s that been?”

  “Hasn’t hurt me so far.”

  I shook my head. He could turn any innocent comment into something more.

  “You go to any games while you were in school?” he asked, changing the subject from his age.

  “Obviously.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, well, they didn’t have a receiver like me.”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t seen you play.”

  “That sounds like a challenge.”

  “Nope. Just the truth.”

  “Well, I assure you, you’ve never seen a receiver as good as me. I’ll get you tickets. Bring CJ.”

  I nodded. “He’d like that.”

  “Would you?”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  He snickered.

  Our banter came so naturally. And the more time I spent with Trace, the more comfortable I felt with him. I needed a cold-shower-reminder we were just friends. “How’d your date go?”

  He shrugged. “As expected.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “She was all over me within the first fifteen minutes, drunk within the first thirty.”

  “You don’t enjoy that?”

  “If all I wanted was sex, I know where to look. I’m not an asshole. Conversations are good, too.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to be sure CJ was still asleep. He was. “Are you gonna see her again?”

  He laughed. “Who knows.” His eyes cut to mine. “A guy gets lonely when he’s home from school.”

  An unexpected ache crept between my legs. I needed a subject change like yesterday. “So...is professional football the end goal for you or are you majoring in something you’re really interested in?”

  He smirked. “You mean does the dumb jock have a backup plan?”

  My eyes widened. “I didn’t say that.”

  His attention continued alternating between the road and me. “But you were thinking it.”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. You’re a really smart guy.”

  He laughed. “I was only playing. I’m actually majoring in sports medicine. If I don’t make it to the pros—” He pinned me with his eyes. “By some crazy turn of events...”

  I laughed.

  “I’ll go to grad school to major in physical therapy or sports training.”

  I smiled, once again surprised by this guy who was so much more than meets the eye. He had lofty expectations yet tempered them with realistic goals. He thought ahead. Thought about what happened if he didn’t reach his goal. If he failed.

  “What
about you?” he asked.

  “What about me?” It was strange to have someone interested in what I had to say. Charles tended to speak at me, not to me.

  “You said you had a psych degree?”

  “Yeah, a Bachelor’s. I was in grad school for clinical psychology.”

  “Was?”

  My eyes shifted out the window at the trees speckling the side of the highway, embarrassed to have to admit the reason aloud. “Charles asked me to stop taking classes.” Hind-freaking-sight.

  “So, was becoming a clinical psychologist your end goal?”

  I looked to him, appreciating him not telling me how stupid I’d been for listening to Charles. “Yep. But now that I have CJ, I wonder if child psychology or family counseling would have been more fulfilling.”

  “It’s not too late to find out.”

  “Yeah. I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.”

  “I think you’d be great working with kids,” Trace said.

  I glanced to him with a grin. “Says the child whisperer. You’d be great with kids. You’re already great with one kid in particular.”

  Trace peeked at CJ in the rearview mirror still sound asleep. “Just so we’re clear—” He met me with his expressive eyes. “I’m great at everything I do.”

  A shiver skimmed down my spine. He was clearly the king of one-liners—ones that were meant to make girls stupid. I wondered if he was just a tease or a guy who actually delivered. What was I saying? Of course he delivered.

  Before long, Trace pulled onto campus. As my eyes moved from left to right, memories flooded me at every turn. The sidewalks. The buildings. The dorms. So many wonderful recollections surrounded me as we moved through campus. Recollections I’d kept locked away. Much like the magic of a beloved song, I was instantly transported to that time and place. Those friends. Those feelings. Those emotions. I’d been so carefree back then. So happy.

  Trace pulled into the empty stadium parking lot, parking in front of the entrance. “Wait here,” he said as he jumped out, closing the door softly so not to startle CJ, still asleep in the backseat.

  He jogged to the main door and pounded on it twice. He buried his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts and waited. He was so incredibly good looking. I couldn’t imagine being able to resist him in college. He was completely my type, and I would’ve fallen hard for his outgoing and confident personality. There was something to be said for a guy who was so comfortable in his own skin.

  How had I forgotten that? Better yet, how had I ended up with Charles?

  I guess him being older and already an established lawyer was appealing when I was twenty-one. But I’d forgotten I was a sucker for a great personality. A sense of humor. A good body. Someone I could trust. I’d totally missed the mark with Charles.

  The stadium door opened and Trace stepped back, talking to the older man who greeted him. The way the man threw back his head in laughter proved Trace could charm anyone. After a quick conversation, Trace turned and waved us over.

  I hopped out of the truck and made my way to CJ’s door, opening it. “Come on,” I whispered to CJ. “Time to get out.”

  CJ’s eyes opened slowly as he looked around the inside of the truck, trying to get his bearings. His eyes ventured out the window, widening when he saw the massive stadium in front of us.

  “Trace took us to his school,” I explained as I unbuckled him. “He wants to show us around.”

  “Awe-some,” CJ said as I helped him out of the truck.

  With our fingers linked, we walked over to where Trace waited in the doorway.

  “Follow me.” Trace smiled, proudly leading us through the entrance hall. Vibrant murals of football players filled the lobby walls. Trace looked to CJ and pointed at one of them. “Someday, that’ll be me up there.”

  “Really?” CJ said, awed by just about anything Trace said.

  We followed Trace down a restricted hallway and into the carpeted locker room. It was meticulously clean and a whole lot nicer than I ever expected for college football players.

  CJ’s wide eyes took it all in. I loved seeing things through his eyes and this had to be incredibly cool to him.

  Trace pointed out his locker and grabbed the stool stored inside, explaining that it sat in front of his locker on game days. He let CJ sit on it, taking a couple pictures of him and sending them to my phone.

  From there, he brought us through a tunnel that led down to the football field. We stepped out onto the lush green grass. It was impossible not to take in the grandeur surrounding us. The massive red and white tiers enveloped the field, towering like skyscrapers. I’d been in the seats before, but I’d never seen the stadium from this vantage point. It was breathtaking. I could only imagine how it felt for Trace and his teammates as they ran out to the roar of over one hundred thousand fans on game day.

  Trace took off jogging down the field toward the end zone, calling CJ to follow. CJ ran after him, his small legs fighting to catch up as the two of them circled the empty field.

  I moved to the nearby bench on the sideline and sat, watching them tackle one another and fall onto their backs in fits of laughter.

  “He’s good with kids.”

  My head whipped around. The old man who’d let Trace into the stadium stood with his eyes on Trace and CJ. It was then I noticed the security shield on his red shirt. “Yeah. He’s great.”

  “He’s also a hell of a receiver.”

  “I’ve never seen him play,” I admitted.

  The man dropped down beside me on the bench. “Well, I’ve been here for too many years to count. And I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’s one of the best to come through this program. He’s going to the pros. He’s got everything teams need. Determination. Height. Speed. And he’s good with his hands.” He bumped me with his shoulder. “But I don’t have to tell you that now, do I?” He laughed a deep husky laugh.

  “Oh, no. We’re just friends,” I said. “He spends time with my son.”

  His eyes narrowed. “So you and he—”

  I shook my head.

  “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He shrugged. “A guy doesn’t go out of his way to bring a girl and her boy here just because they’re friends.”

  My eyes drifted back out to the field watching them play like they’d known each other forever. Trace was an unbelievable guy. And CJ and I were very lucky to be on the receiving end of his kindness.

  The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Arnie.”

  I shook it. “Marin.”

  “Hey, Mom. Look at me,” CJ shouted, pretending to kick an imaginary ball through the goal post.

  “Nice kick,” I called.

  “Let me go grab them a ball,” Arnie said, pushing himself to his feet and disappearing through the tunnel.

  Trace rounded CJ from behind and tackled him onto the grass. CJ’s laughter filled the empty stadium and shot right to the cracks in my heart, filling them with the happiness that should’ve always been there. I closed my eyes for a long moment and pulled in a deep cleansing breath. The days following Charles’ infidelity had been torture. I needed to wear a brave face for CJ, who was unable to understand why his daddy wasn’t coming home. I never thought I’d see him smile, laugh, or have fun again. But he was. And I had Trace to thank for much of that.

  “Hey, Forester,” Arnie called.

  My eyes snapped open. Trace stood with his palms up as Arnie passed him the ball. It fell short, but Trace made quick work of reaching down and scooping it up. “Nice pass, Arnie.”

  “Ah, getting old stinks.”

  “Nah, you’ve still got it,” Trace assured him with an easy smile.

  Arnie looked to me. “He’s one of the good ones.”

  “Hey, Marin,” Trace called. “Get out here and show us what you’ve got.”

  “Uh—”

  “Don’t leave a man waiting,” Arnie urged. “Take it from me. Enjoy life while you’re stil
l young.”

  Arnie had no idea how right he was. I may have screwed up by marrying Charles, but I was still young and I wouldn’t let a screw up dictate how I lived the rest of my life. If I wanted to be miserable, that was my choice. If I wanted to be happy...well, it seemed like a no brainer.

  I jumped to my feet. CJ danced around, eager for me to play. Trace passed me the ball. Of course I fumbled it in my hands before holding onto it. I looked to CJ who held up his hands and I tossed him the ball.

  “Nice spiral,” Trace said.

  “I’ve got mad skills,” I said, using Trace’s words as I dashed toward CJ. He yelped, before twisting away from me and taking off running.

  “Mad skills?” Trace’s laughter echoed off the seats as I chased CJ around. “That’s hilarious.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Trace standing there looking right at home in the massive stadium. “Are you making fun of me?”

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  I snatched the ball from CJ’s hands, leaving him stunned as I took off running. He sprinted after me. So did Trace. Trace was faster and he nearly reached me as I shrieked. “Don’t!”

  “Try and stop me,” Trace called as he closed the distance between us.

  CJ jumped around with his hands waving over his head. “Pass it here.”

  I passed it to him just as Trace wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me off the ground. “Put me down,” I begged through laughter.

  “Nope. Having way too much fun.”

  I conceded, allowing myself to relax in his arms with his hard chest pressed to my back. A shiver surged through me. A delicious content shiver.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Come and get me,” CJ called.

  Both our heads turned to find him jumping around with the ball between his small hands. Trace lowered me to my feet and we took off running toward him. CJ screeched, before turning and bolting in the opposite direction. We trailed him easily. Trace let me grab him first and lift him off his feet. Then Trace grabbed both of us, tackling us gently to the grass. Our laughter filled the stadium, and the happiness I saw in CJ’s beautiful green eyes pricked my own eyes with tears. I looked up to find Trace gazing down at me, his blue eyes holding something I couldn’t quite read, but I could say with much certainty that it scared the hell out of me.