Here & Now

by Melyssa Winchester

  Cadence

  I’m the first to admit I don’t have the first clue what Dillon does when he’s on the field. I don’t have the first clue about football at all, but getting to stand here and watch him when he’s completely unaware of it; seeing how fast he moves, how far he throws to the guy that was walking with him when he noticed me, it’s kind of awesome.

  There are only a couple of things in life that Dillon really cares about and with the fluid way he moves when he’s on the football field, it’s easy to see this is a big one. He’s graceful yet commanding and it’s hard once your eyes are locked on him, to actually look away.

  Or maybe that’s just me.

  You don’t have to understand what’s going to appreciate the effort he puts in. The effort all of the guys on the field do. The only thing I wish I didn’t have to see are the times where Dillon was taken down to the ground.

  Maybe it’s because I’m gearing up for a pretty big surgery, one that’s got risks of injury attached, but seeing these guys, ones a whole lot bigger than my boyfriend, plowing their bodies straight into him and bringing him straight to the ground, it’s scary and there were more than a few moments where I’m pretty sure my heart stopped.

  He can get seriously hurt doing this.

  The closer he gets as he bridges the distance between us the more I see just how hard this game—the sport is on him. He’s moving a whole lot slower than usual and if it’s not my eyes playing tricks on me, it looks like he’s putting a lot more pressure on his left leg than his right, which means he hurt it.

  The idea of Dillon being hurt twists me up inside. After last year with all of the fighting and him somehow managing to make it out of a lot of them with barely a scratch, the last thing he needs is to relive it out here on the field.

  I just don’t know how to tell him that without upsetting him. He’s made it clear how important I am to him, but there’s only one thing that might mean just as much. Football is Dillon’s escape. It’s the one thing he prides himself at being good at. Bringing up my fears, worries I have seeing him walk the way he is now, it’s only going to upset him and that’s the last thing I want after the amount of time we’ve spent apart.

  “Didn’t anyone tell you? Cheerleader tryouts were last week. You missed the cutoff.”

  Smacking him lightly on the chest before allowing him to scoop me up into his arms and swing me around, I do something I haven’t been able to do all day. Laugh.

  “Do that again.” He signs the minute my feet are back on the ground and our eyes are once again locked on each other.

  Do what again?

  “Laugh.”

  “I can’t laugh on demand.”

  Sliding his hands down my body, he runs one down until he’s sliding his hand up underneath and if I didn’t already know what he was going for, the way his hand feels brushing against my skin might create a whole different reaction in me based on the way it feels.

  His fingers brush lightly across my stomach and just like he was going for, I laugh again, only this time the look in his eyes tells me it’s different somehow. I don’t need to be able to hear myself when I’m with Dillon. His facial expressions, the way his eyes change at any given moment tells me everything I need to know.

  I’m reacting to him the way he wants, but also in the way I want with the heat building from his hands being on any part of me. A reaction I’ve had more than once in our time together and judging by the smirk on his face, one he enjoys a whole lot.

  “It’s music, Caddy. You’re music.”

  “Then how about we get out of here and we turn the solo act into a duet?”

  His eyes widen, the smile still in place and his eyes back away from mine, looking toward the building and back again.

  “If I agree, will you tell me why you’re here?”

  I nod and he looks again toward the locker room before coming back and meeting my gaze.

  “Five minutes. I’m gonna put my shit together and I’m coming right back out. Meet me at the car?”

  Again I answer with a nod and he smiles before leaning his head into mine and kissing me softly. As he pulls away and turns, I notice again that he’s favoring his right leg, putting all of his weight down onto his left and I reach out and stop him. There’s no way I can let him walk away right now without knowing how bad this is.

  “Did you hurt your leg?”

  “I just fell wrong. It’s nothing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I trust Dillon, but I also know what guys are like. Whenever my dad would hurt himself working around the house when I was a kid, he used to blow it off whenever my mom asked about it. He would tell her it was nothing and that as soon as he was rested it would all clear up. I get the feeling that right now, Dillon and I are a lot like them.

  “Yeah. It happens a lot, but usually I don’t have a gorgeous girl waiting on the sidelines that catches it. I swear, when I get off my feet later and rest, it’ll clear up.”

  Pressing his lips to mine again quickly, he turns and watching him walk away, the knot in the pit of my stomach tightens. He might believe that it’s nothing, and I might even want to buy into it too, but something tells me that there’s more going on here.

  Watching him jog away, disappearing into a door that most likely will take him to his stuff, the five minute countdown clock ticking away in my head, I really hope the knot in my stomach right now—the one that won’t ease for anything—is wrong.

  I don’t know what I’ll do if what’s going on with Dillon is worse than he thinks.

  My final thought as I turn and head back toward the parking lot is simple.

  I really hate football.

  Dillon

  Running defensive formations in practice can be a bitch and with the pain shooting through my leg right now, I’m proof of it.

  I lied to Cadence. The hit I took, I get the feeling it might be a lot more serious then something a night of rest can get rid of. There’s no amount of Lidocaine in the world that can be sprayed on my knee right now that will alleviate it. I just didn’t know what else to say.

  She’s got enough shit going on right now. The last thing I want to do is get her caught up in mine. Besides, I’ve been down this road before, injuries are common, and it’s nothing I won’t find a way out of.

  My focus, like always, needs to be on her. The fact that she came all the way out here to see me practice and spend time with me after. I want to be wrapped up in all things Cadence and not give two shits about the real damage that might be going on with my leg.

  You stupid pansy. Couldn’t take a hit on the field just like you couldn’t take one in the middle of a fight. I always did tell your mom we were raising a little girl.

  This is another thing that’s familiar. When I take a hit, get hurt or in any way have some kind of pain, Bruce’s voice comes through loud and clear. The man never missed a beat letting me know what a waste of space I was, how much of a girl he thought I was, so it makes sense that it’s there again now.

  Too bad this time, I’m not going to listen to it.

  He had six years of controlling me. Putting me into situations I could have easily gotten a way out of had I been smart enough to open my damn mouth. Remaining silent, I gave all the control and power over to him, making him strong and me the weak link. Six years too long.

  I’m not gonna let him do it anymore, especially since he’s rotting away in prison. The days of Bruce Murphy having the control, forcing his weak versus strong brainwashing bullshit on me is over. I’m strong, but I’ve also been weak, and that’s okay.

  What I need to do right now is simple. I need to get the fuck out of here, take my girl for a ride and enjoy the rest of my night.

  It’s just too bad Coach seems to have other plans.

  “Murphy, you got a second?”

  Cadence waiting by my car flashes through my head, but I push it back. No one says no to Coach; especially not me. As a unit, I’m as much a leader as he is and saying n
o, telling him I’ve got my girlfriend out there waiting for me, it’s just not something you do. So even if it’s the last thing I wanna be doing right now, I’ve gotta see it through.

  “Yeah Coach, what’s up?”

  “I got a few new plays I wanna try for next practice. They’re all here in the book. Take it home, study it and in two days, I want you out there knowing them backwards and forwards. The game against Central next week, now that we’ve got Kane on board, we need to win it.”

  New plays. Ones I hope have nothing to do with me being taken the fuck out. With the ache still pounding away in my knee and being so fucking determined to keep silent about it, the last thing I need is to have it broken down more.

  “Sure thing. I’m on it.”

  “Get together with Kane too, go over them with him since he’s a large part of a few. Get him up to speed.”

  “Will do.” I agree, though not as excitedly as I would have in the past. “Anything else?”

  Shaking his head, he shoves the playbook out to me and stalks away the minute I take it. Pushing down the urge to check out the plays before meeting Caddy, I throw it into my duffel and head out.

  Football is over for the day. I gotta put it and the injury out of my head.

  It’s time to find out what Caddy is doing here and hope like hell it’s not something bad.

  The last thing I need right now is more bad news.

  Cadence

  The last time I was standing here, it was dark. The only lights around for miles the ones slipped through the trees around us and the far away street lamps that lined the street where it begins.

  Dillon’s idea of spending time with me tonight is taking me back where it all began for us, only this time it’s complete with a picnic basket and food.

  I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since I’ve been here. Since we’ve been here together.

  The rock that we spray painted the day we got together, it’s still as colorful as it was then, even if there is a lot more dirt attached that wasn’t there the last time. The heart he designed is still intact and the same way it jumps off the rock, my very real heart does every single time we’re together like this.

  So much has happened here. It’s the first place he ever heard me and where our first kiss took place. It’s the place where we got back together after a misunderstanding of epic proportions. It’s where we began and as the paint on the sidewalk, faded but still visible states, it’s a beginning with no end.

  “So,” he leans in once and whispers against my lips. “Does this beat Kayden’s sofa for places to have dinner?”

  “Just a little.” I answer back, my breath still taken and my head a jumble of memories as I continue to take in everything moving around us.

  “I know it’s not as fancy as the last time we were here, but I figured it was time for a visit.”

  “The ravine has never been fancy. If I remember right, you said it was murky.”

  “I did say that, but only after you said it first.” He admits before bending over and slipping a checkered blanket from the basket and tossing it across the grass, bringing out the soda cans and plates, followed up by the food. Motioning when he’s done for me to sit, he slides his own body down onto the blanket and when I finally sit and look at him, he flashes his familiar smile.

  The comfortable one. The smile that tells me how he feels without a word being spoken.

  “I also remember saying that it reminded me of us.”

  “Does it still?”

  “Yes, but not in the same way. Nothing about what we have is murky. It’s all clear and the way it’s supposed to be.”

  “How is it supposed to be?”

  It still amazes me how easily I speak when I’m around him. After spending the last couple of days in virtual silence, deviating back to the way I am normally, the openness I have being here with him now still manages to take me off guard.

  “Well for starters it’s supposed to be us together and I think we’ve nailed that pretty nicely. It’s also supposed to be comfortable. Easy. No drama, no fears about shit waiting for us when we leave. Happy. It’s just supposed to be what it is.”

  I never pictured Dillon for a romantic, even after what he did last year in order to let me hear him, but every day, especially since he got back from the city, he’s finding ways to prove just how much of a romantic he is.

  This is what happens when you’ve been keeping things bottled up for years and finally have the freedom to let them out. It’s amazing. I want to focus on it, keep things the peaceful easy way they’ve been since I showed up at school today, but I know I can’t. I need to tell him what really landed me at his practice.

  Well, besides wanting to see him suited up.

  “My doctor called today.”

  “Is that why you came to visit?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did he say?”

  “If I’m serious about going through with this, he’s got a surgery date for the implantation.”

  “When?”

  “Two weeks from today. Early morning.”

  “Okay. Well, I’ll pick you and your mom up at the house that day and we’ll all go together.”

  How resigned he is to what he wants to do, not even giving it a second thought, warms me. I knew he would be like this, but because I’m always thinking of every variable, I knew classes might be an issue. It’s obviously not that big of one for him.

  “What about classes?”

  “What about them? I’ll explain to my professors that there’s somewhere important I need to be that day and deal with the fallout after. It’s one day. It’s not like I’m dropping out.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, baby I am, but are you sure this is what you want to do? Because if you’re still thinking you need to do this for me, don’t do it.”

  “I’m sure. I want to do this.”

  “For you or for me?”

  “For both of us, and my parents.”

  “Alright then. It’s settled.”

  When I focus on the food in front of me, ripping off small parts of the bun before eating it, pecking at it almost the way a bird would, I feel his arm brush against mine and look up to a sea of the warmest shade of brown I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  “You’re not going to fight me on this?”

  Shaking my head as I hurry to swallow the bite of burger bun I just ripped off, my cheeks heat.

  What he’s asking, I should have seen it coming. I fight everything. Tooth and nail, balls to the wall, I never give in on anything I have an opinion about very easily. It’s another reason why my mom backed down so easily last fall. If I was willing to fight for Dillon then there had to be something there worth fighting for.

  I’ve also used it a lot on him over the last year. His going away and me setting down the once a month visitation is clear evidence of that. I saw what I wanted to see, what I believed at the time was the right thing for him and I ran with it, arguing the entire way even though deep down I knew it was like he said. He would have wanted to see me more.

  “No. I won’t fight you on this because I want you there.”

  “Good, because just like the doctor’s appointment last week, you’re not going to be able to keep me away.” He pauses, leveling me with a soft smile, one that barely lifts his lips, but that resonates through me because of what it means. “Will you do something with me?”

  “Does it involve illegally tagging a public park?”

  “No, but the way you make illegal sound, I might have to rethink what I was about to ask.”

  Smiling back, he squeezes the hand he now has wrapped around mine and pulls me toward him. Shifting my body as it makes contact with his, I allow myself to fall easily back into his arms until I can feel his breath on the side of my neck, but still have an unobstructed view of his lips.

  “What did you want me to do?”

  “This Saturday after the game, I want to do something with you.”

&nbs
p; Doing something with Dillon could mean one of a million things. Before he went away in August, we managed to go to the zoo, the movie theater, walks on the beach, even seeing the small carnival when it set up shop in the mall parking lot. Most nights we stayed close to home, either watching a movie at his place, or hanging out with my mom at mine. It makes it hard for me to figure what he might want to do with me now.

  “Define something.”

  “I want to take you out. Not to the movies or any of the other stuff we’ve done, but really take you out. I want you to get dressed up, I’ll do the same and I want to take you to dinner.”

  Well that’s new.

  “Why do you want to do that? We can just as easily come back here and have another picnic.” I turn and say as I motion with my hand toward the food laid out in front of us.

  “Because we’ve been together a year and I’m so shitty at the whole boyfriend thing that I’ve never actually taken you on a real date.”

  “You’ve taken me on lots of dates.”

  “Not the ones you deserve.” he admits. “I said I wanted the whole damn world knowing what you mean to me and whenever I take you out, it’s always somewhere where there aren’t a lot of people or we’re shrouded in the dark making out. You deserve better than that.”

  There’s always been people around when we’ve gone out and even though he hasn’t always been the most open with his affection in public, it’s never been a problem for me and the truth is, I kind of like getting him alone in a dark theatre where no one can really see. Some of our most heated moments have happened in those times and I’ve never once complained.

  I love making out with Dillon.

  “I don’t need a fancy dinner. I’m happier at home with you anyway.”

  “I know,” he sighs. “But I’m dating this fucking goddess and it’s about damn time I showed the world what they’re missing.”

  The second my cheeks start to heat, I feel the rumble of his chest again, this time in laughter. The way it feels, nothing can compare to it, but it brings my reason for coming to see him back around again. In a couple of months, if the surgery works the way the doctor is confident it will, it won’t just be me feeling him laugh anymore.