Days of You and Me

by Tawdra Kandle

  I wanted to jump up onto the table and do a dance of victory, but I was pretty sure that would’ve gotten us kicked out. So instead I settled for nodding gravely. “Good to know.”

  “What about you?” She played with the green top of her strawberry, not meeting my eyes. “I mean . . . I was married to Nate. If something happened then, it’s okay. I understand. I couldn’t expect you to . . . wait for me. Not under the circumstances. And I know Sarah’s down in Virginia with you, so it would be only natural for you two to be together, even if it was only casual.”

  “Hey. Look at me.” I leaned forward and reached to tip her chin up. “Nothing happened between Sarah and me. Nothing at all. She didn’t try to initiate anything, and I sure as hell didn’t. I wasn’t in any place . . .” I thought about last summer, how angry and bitter I’d been. “Well, let’s just say, even if I’d been idiot enough to try something, I wouldn’t have gone through with it. Also, whether you know it or not, Sarah’s your friend. She spent most of the summer telling me that if I didn’t wait for you, she’d personally bash me in the head.” I winced. “Between Sarah and Zelda, they’ve definitely scared me straight when it comes to you. If I ever fucked up and hurt you, what was left of me when they were finished wouldn’t be worth anything to anyone.”

  Quinn raised her eyebrows and smiled. “It’s good to have friends who aren’t afraid to play fast and easy with things like death threats and castration.”

  “Sometimes you all scare me.” I shuddered. “Anyway, the point is, there never was anyone else. Corey’s wife Ellie wanted to set me up with one of her girlfriends, but once she heard our story, she was Team Quinn all the way. She can’t wait to meet you.”

  “Is that Corey Iverson’s wife? I read an article about them. They’ve got quite the history themselves. Are they as cute in person as they sound?”

  “Even more so, although they’re such genuinely kind people that they’re not sickening, you know? Ellie is kind of the team mom. She cooks for us, makes sure we’re all keeping to the straight and narrow, and she loves to play matchmaker.” I paused as something Quinn had just said struck me. “You read an article about Corey?”

  Her cheeks pinked again, just a little. “I might have read anything and everything about the Richmond Rebels and all their players. I might follow the team on social media. I might even have—” She cast her eyes upward, biting her lip. “A team jersey.”

  I had a sudden and vivid memory of the first night we’d had sex. Quinn had taken the initiative, booking a hotel room the night that we’d won our championship game in junior year of high school. And when she’d emerged from the bathroom that night, wearing my football jersey and nothing else, I was convinced I could’ve died a happy man, then and there.

  She was still speaking, and I struggled to pay attention. Focus, man.

  “Of course, I don’t have a Leo Taylor jersey. Not one from the Rebels, anyway.” She held up her fingers, counting off. “I have an Eatonboro High School Leo Taylor jersey—that one has some happy memories—”

  “You’re damn right.”

  “—and I have a Carolina University Leo Taylor jersey, and if I recall, that one saw its share of action, too—”

  I nearly fell out of my chair. She was right. We’d celebrated my first college touchdown catch with her wearing that one. I’d been so pumped that night that I’d taken her up against the wall in my dorm. Suddenly my seat was extremely uncomfortable. I shifted, hoping she didn’t notice.

  “But I need the Richmond Rebels Leo Taylor jersey to complete my collection.”

  Under the table, I slid my foot up her calves to rest on the seat of the chair, between her knees. Quinn sucked in a quick breath and sat still.

  “Tell you what.” My voice was hoarse. “If you promise to break in every jersey the way we did the first two, I’ll make sure you have one for every uniform we have—home and away—for every team I play for in my entire career.”

  Quinn’s lips curved. “That sounds like a win-win deal to me.”

  “But–” I held up one finger. “I can’t get you a Rebels jersey until you come back east. When you’re ready to come back, I’ll hook you up.” I stared hard at her, hoping she understood what I was trying to say. I would do anything for this girl—for this woman, because there was no doubt in my mind that she was that now. I would turn myself inside out, climb mountains, run races or win wars. But she had to show me that she was ready, and she needed to come home for me to be sure.

  She watched me, and I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. Her smile broadened a little as she nodded.

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Another beer, Leo?” Allan Crocker held out the frosty bottle to me. “Good thing about being in the city is that we rarely drive ourselves anywhere, so you can definitely have a second without worrying about being behind the wheel. And of course, you’re still in the off-season, so you might as well live it up a little.”

  I accepted the beer with a grin. “You’re not wrong, sir. Thanks.”

  “Hey—no sir here, please. You make me feel like an old-timer.” He sat down on the other deck chair, and both of us gazed out over the nighttime skyline of the city.

  “I’ve seen tapes of your games. It’s really an honor to meet you.” I’d been here in San Francisco for four days now. Most of that time had been spent playing tourist, sightseeing and eating in some of the best restaurants I’d ever tried. Quinn and I had both realized, even without really discussing it, that the less time we spent alone in her apartment, the safer we were. So each morning she cooked me a killer breakfast, and then we’d head out, only returning to her house when we were both worn out and exhausted, ready to fall into bed. Separately, that is, even though I knew we both wanted it to be otherwise.

  We hadn’t avoided deep conversation, though. More than once, we’d lingered at lunch for hours, talking about the past and present, sharing things we’d never admitted to each other—or maybe even to ourselves. I’d told Quinn about my last conversation with Nate, and she’d spoken about his advice to her.

  “He loved us both,” Quinn had murmured. “He really did want us to have the best shot at happiness. I truly believe that.”

  I’d nodded somewhat grudgingly. “I think you’re right. It was just hard to take it that way at the time.”

  Tonight, on my last evening in California, Kara and Allan had invited us to join them for dinner. I’d met the couple earlier in my visit, but this was my first opportunity to get to know them. I could tell that they were as warm and friendly as Quinn had told me, and we were all having a good time. Quinn and Kara were in the kitchen now, cooking, and they’d shooed Allan and me outside with our drinks. Judging by the assessing look in Kara’s eyes, I suspected I was the main topic of conversation as they sautéed vegetables.

  “I’ve seen some of your games, too, son. And of course, I’ve heard about you from Quinn since she’s been here with us. You’ve got talent, Leo, and what’s more, you’ve got the knack. The heart. You’re a football player on more than just the surface level. I think you’re going to go far.”

  “I hope so.” I hesitated. Allan Crocker might not have been a star, but he was definitely a respected player who knew both the game on the field and the sometimes more challenging game off the field. “I love football. I want to play as long as I can. My only worry is about Quinn.”

  “What about her?” Allan took a long pull of his beer, his eyes on my face.

  “Sometimes I’m afraid Quinn feels like football comes before her. I wonder if it comes down to a choice . . . can I make it? I’d give up football in a heartbeat, if it was between the game and the girl. But if I did that, I’d be cutting off part of myself, and I don’t know who I’d be. Maybe I couldn’t be the man Quinn loves without the game.”

  Allan swirled the bottle of beer, watching the bubbles rise. “I feel like I know Quinn pretty well now. I don’t know you, of course, and only the two of you can figure out
your relationship and what works for you. But I can tell you from my own experience that football can be part of the glue that binds you together with your wife, or it can be the mistress who comes between you. I’ve seen it happen both ways. Both of you need to have a healthy respect for the game, but you can’t make it more than it is. In the end, you’ll walk away, and the game will go on without you. If you’re particularly blessed, you’ll hold onto some of the friends you made along the way, just as Kara and I have. But you can’t make the game more than it is, and you can’t expect it to give you more than it can.”

  I frowned, digesting what he’d said. “So you don’t think I have to choose between having Quinn and playing football?”

  Allan pursed his lips. “Son, Quinn has known you all your life. Football has been part of that. She has never said anything to me that would indicate she expects you to give it up.” He sighed. “You just have to work extra hard to make sure she knows her place in your life. At least, that was my experience. When the other guys on the team went out to a bar after practice—I came home and ate with my wife. When they partied after a game—I celebrated with Kara and Gunner. Kara put up with a ton of shit over the years, thanks to my career: long hours, travel, media attention—so I felt like anything I could give her, any time I could make sure to be there for her, I was.”

  It was a revelation to hear that, and it freed a part of me that had been dreading having to make that choice. The idea that I could have both parts of my dream—both Quinn and football—made me almost dizzy with joy, and not a little impatient to make it all happen now.

  “Dinner is served, gentlemen.” Quinn appeared in the doorway that led from the deck to the dining room. She was wearing a pretty dress that kind of floated around her body, in just the exact same shade of green that brought out the color of her eyes. Backlit by the lights in the house, she looked almost ethereal as she smiled at us. And in that moment, I wanted her more than I ever had before, with a desire so sharp it nearly hurt.

  As though she read my want in my eyes—and maybe she did—Quinn took a step toward me, holding out her hand. When I took it in mine, the connection zinged through me like lightening, singeing my core.

  Threading my fingers through hers, I let her lead me inside to where dinner awaited, hoping I could behave myself long enough to get Quinn back to her apartment.

  We’d been good over these past four days, Quinn and me. We’d kept our promise to each other, and although we’d touched and held hands, I hadn’t kissed her on the mouth yet, and we’d shared only brief hugs at bedtime. It was as if we both knew that taking one more step put us at risk for a plunge we weren’t ready to navigate yet.

  But tonight was my last night in San Francisco. Tomorrow I’d board a plane that would take me three thousand miles away from her, and neither of us knew when we’d be together again. Quinn had told me that she was technically free to leave any time, but she still felt responsible for some of the final cleanup details that went along with publishing and releasing a book. She wasn’t sure when she would be back in New Jersey.

  “The thing is, I’d like to have a plan before I go back,” she’d said earlier. “Mom’s sold the house, you know. She and Shane the dry cleaner are in Europe right now.” There was still a little residual bitterness in her tone, but I understood that. I was pretty sure that if my mom had died and my dad had taken up with someone else, the transition would’ve been tough for me. “So if I go back, I’ll have to stay at the shore house. Call me a coward, but I’m not ready for that yet.”

  “What about Zelda or Gia?” I had hopes that any move Quinn made would be short-lived, since what I really wanted was for her to be with me in Virginia. Still, I was willing to offer suggestions that would at least get her to the right coast.

  Quinn had wrinkled her nose. “Zelda . . . I hope she’s not going to be an option for long. I hope she and Tuck end up moving in together, and yuck, I don’t want to be there for that. Gia doesn’t have room in her apartment. And of course, until I have a job again, I can’t contribute to rent or utilities, so I’d feel bad mooching off them.”

  “I thought Dawn had promised that you could have your old position back at the magazine when you came home.” Quinn’s editor had been more than accommodating, and since she was a friend of Allan and Kara’s, I couldn’t imagine her penalizing Quinn for taking the job with the Crockers.

  “She did. But I’m not sure I want it. I was thrilled to be able do that work while Nate was—while he was here. It was a wonderful arrangement, and Dawn was always very kind. But it’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life. I want something more.”

  Our conversations rolled around in my head as I sprawled on Quinn’s sofa, waiting for her to come out and join me. We’d gotten home from Kara and Allan’s house about ten minutes before, but it was too early for bed. Or at least, I told myself, too early to go to bed alone. Which was what I was going to be doing. Possibly after a cold shower.

  “You look like you’re deep in contemplation.” Quinn came into the room wearing hot pink yoga pants and a loose tank. My body went on full alert. “Penny for your thoughts.”

  “Sorry, inflation.” I patted the cushion next to me. “I can’t take anything less than a quarter.”

  She hesitated only a moment before she sat down just beyond the reach of my hand. “Oooooh, too rich for my blood. Is there a friends and family discount?”

  “Depends. Which one are you?” I scooted a little closer.

  She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Definitely not family. But I thought knowing you since we were in utero would let me qualify as a friend, at least.”

  I reached toward her bare arm and ran one finger from her shoulder to her wrist. “At the very least. Isn’t there another category? How about . . . friends who are more than friends, and who I hope will be family?”

  Her eyes went soft, and she shivered at my touch. “Family? Does that mean you want me to be like . . . your sister?”

  I laughed. “I don’t think so. The feelings I have for you . . .” I cupped her wrist and slid my hand down until our palms were pressed together. “. . . aren’t really sisterly. And they go beyond friendly, although you’ll always be my best friend. Forever.”

  “Forever,” Quinn echoed. “So are you going to tell me what you were thinking about here, before I came in and interrupted you?”

  I shrugged. “If I’m being honest, like we promised we would be . . . I was wondering how long until you come back to the East Coast.”

  She laid her head against the back of the couch. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, too.”

  “And have you come up with any answers?” I tightened my hold on her hand.

  “Maybe.” She glanced at me from under her eyelashes. “Since the book’s being published under a small press, at least initially, it’s coming out pretty quickly. The release party is in three weeks. I know Kara and Allan would understand if I left before then, but I also know they’d like me to stay. And honestly, I’d like to be here for it. I put a lot of work into this book, and I’m proud of what we did.”

  “You should be.” I moved a little closer, releasing her hand to sneak my arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to me. “I wish I could fly back out to be here for the party, too, but it’s going to be right smack at the beginning of training camp. No way I can leave the city, let alone the state.”

  “I didn’t expect you to be there, but I appreciate the sentiment.” She smiled, and I didn’t see even a hint of reservation in her eyes. “However, once the party’s over and the book’s released, I really don’t have anything to hold me here. I was thinking of planning to be back east in time for your home opener. What do you think?”

  A combo of nerves and joy jumped in my gut. I wanted Quinn with me . . . and at the same time, I was terrified of fucking it up. Still, nothing said we couldn’t continue to take things slowly. It would just be a whole hell of a lot easier when we were in the same time zone.

&
nbsp; “I think that sounds perfect.” I risked brushing my lips over the top of her hair. “Have you been thinking about where you want to stay? And what you want to do?”

  “The housing part . . . I’m going to suck it up and go stay down the shore for a while. That house is sitting empty, and I’m afraid that if I don’t go back sooner rather than later, I might never feel comfortable there. I need to reclaim it. Make some good memories again, you know? I’ll invite the girls to come down and stay with me for a weekend, maybe.” She lolled her head back to rest on my arm. “And if you’re a very good boy, I might even invite you up to stay with me when you have the time.”

  “Baby, I’m really good at making happy memories.” I nuzzled her neck, breathing in her indefinable Quinn scent. “I’m down for that.”

  “As for what I want to do, I might have an idea. Kara and I were talking in the kitchen tonight while we were cooking. She asked me what I was passionate about, and I came up with two things: writing and football. Because she’s Kara, of course she has a friend who was one of the pioneers among women who cover men’s sports. Her name’s Marla Smith Long—have you heard of her?”

  I crinkled my brow. “Maybe. The name sounds familiar.”

  “Anyway, a few years back, she launched an on-line news outlet that covers sports, particularly football, which is apparently her consuming love. Kara says she’s just expanding into a new angle, covering the human interest aspect of football players and other members of the team—the coaches, the GMs, owners and so on. It sounds like something I’d love to do, so Kara’s going to set up a meeting for us.”