I watch her pace, her expression a mix of emotions—serious concentration, accompanied by a healthy dose of total confusion.
And I feel her on every level.
I rise to my feet and try to approach her, but she holds both hands out, warding me off. “Don’t get any closer.”
I frown. “Why not? Afraid I’ll give you cooties?”
Ava rolls her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m just—if we get too close to each other, we do things we might regret.”
I don’t regret shit when it comes to Ava, but I do regret how we ended things. “Fine, whatever. I’ll keep my distance. Let’s talk.”
“Not tonight. I’m tired. I’d prefer if you distanced yourself completely and left.” She tilts her head toward the window.
My mouth drops open. “You really expect me to leave out the window?”
“You came in that way, right?”
“The trellis will collapse under my weight.”
“Maybe you should lose some weight.”
I bark out a laugh. “It’s all muscle, baby. I’m a lot bigger than I was at seventeen.”
Her gaze skims me from head to toe, lingering on my chest before it guiltily jumps to mine. “Yeah, you are.”
Normally I’d puff up my chest and tell her to get her ass over here, but she won’t respond well to that. “Talk to me.”
She shakes her head. “Not right now.”
“Come on.” I won’t beg.
I won’t.
“What else is there to say? Are you here to apologize? Or are you here because you want to fuck me?”
I actually flinch. “Maybe I want—both.”
Ava crosses her arms. “You can’t have it all. Not yet. We need to talk about—things first.”
“Then let’s talk.”
“Not tonight. Some other time.” She lifts her chin. Little miss stubborn. “You should go.”
A ragged exhale leaves me.
Fine.
I’m out.
Ten
Ava
“Would you like to hear how my evening went?” I ask cheerily.
I’m in my room the next morning after my run-in with Eli, on the phone with Ellie. She goes quiet for a moment, as if I asked her a trick question and she doesn’t quite know how to answer. “Um…okay?”
“Great! All right, picture it. I’m in my room, minding my own business and about to go to bed, so I can waste an hour on TikTok before I fall asleep, when I hear a knock. On my window. Mind you, I’m on the second floor,” I say.
“Oh, I know.” She sounds amused. Not freaked out or worried for me, which makes me guess she probably knows who it was knocking on my window.
“I throw back my curtains and I see Eli, just his head. He climbed up the trellis, Ellie.”
“Just like in high school,” she says, though I don’t need the reminder.
A sigh leaves me and I fight against the warm memories of Eli climbing the trellis and sneaking into my room back in the day. He was so bad.
And I loved every stolen minute I spent with him back then. It was thrilling.
Exciting.
“What did you do when you saw him?” she asks.
“I let him in. I had to. It was either that, or he could’ve plunged to his death,” I retort.
She laughs. “I doubt he would’ve actually died, but he might’ve broken a bone and ended his football career forever.”
Frowning, I shake my head. I didn’t even think of that. He is such an impulsive idiot sometimes, putting himself at risk in such a foolish way. All because of me.
You’re worth it, is what he would’ve said.
Before we ended things.
“He’s crazy,” I murmur.
“Yes, he is,” Ellie readily agrees. “So tell me. Did you guys…do anything?”
I think of the kiss, how hot it was. How easy it would’ve been to succumb to it. To give in to him. He’s got very persuasive lips.
Persuasive everything.
“No.”
“Really?” She sounds doubtful.
“We kissed,” I admit, closing my eyes. I’m still in bed, in my room, and it’s almost ten in the morning. I’m not one to sleep in, but I had a hard time falling asleep last night. I kept running over what happened. What he said. What I said. The taste of his lips. His hard body on top of mine…
I finally drifted off to sleep only to dream of him. Of course. When I finally woke up, confused and sweating, I realized quickly the house was quiet. Pretty sure everyone is gone and I’m glad. I know Beck is at school, but I don’t know where my parents are, or even when they actually left.
It’s okay, though. I’d rather not face them this morning. Not that they have any clue that Eli “stopped by” last night, but I’m still frazzled by his brief visit.
“Oooh, you guys kissed? Not surprising. How was it?” She sounds like the Ellie I knew back in middle school, when we were so young and silly and gossiped about boys and the popular group and who was going out with who.
“It was terrible,” I lie.
No, it was amazing. Even better than I remember. Is it my mind playing tricks on me? I go without for months, so any little show of attention from Eli sets me on fire? Am I that pathetic?
Or is it just that fiery between us still?
“You’re a liar,” Ellie says, not holding back.
Busted. “Fine. It wasn’t terrible. But I’m still so frustrated with him, Ellie. He says the worst things.”
“He always has,” Ellie points out.
Hmm. My best friend knows Eli better than I thought.
“Did he apologize yet?” she asks.
“No, of course he didn’t.”
Instead of forcing him back out my window, I opened the door of my bedroom for him, so he could exit the house like a normal human being. I asked if he wanted me to walk him to the front door and he said he knew where it was, I didn’t need to bother.
So I didn’t.
Even though I wanted to.
I waited a few minutes after he left, closing the curtains immediately but sneaking looks out the window to see if his car was still parked out front. He sat in that car for a while. I don’t know what he was doing. Thinking? Contemplating coming back into the house and talking to me?
I stood by the window with my heart in my throat, my stomach twisted in knots, secretly praying he would come to his senses and march back into the house, up the stairs and into my room and tell me he was sorry and that he loved me more than anything in the world.
But he did none of that. He eventually started the car and pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the night. I went downstairs, locked the front door, went back into my room and cried my eyes out into my pillow.
“Are you two ever going to be able to fix this?” Ellie asks.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Is it best that I just let him go and we move on? First love doesn’t always last forever.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she agrees. “But I thought you two were special.”
So did I, not that I want to admit it now.
“Clearly he’s too wrapped up in his own ego to see what he’s doing,” I say, sounding like a bitter old hag. “I think I should move on.”
“Really?” Ellie squeaks. She sounds surprised.
“Yes,” I say with a nod, even though she can’t see me. “I need to go out with friends. Meet someone new. Maybe lots of someone news.”
That’s never going to happen with the friend group here. Eli is part of it. And I have no single friends here.
Right now, I wish I was in San Diego. I suppose I could go down there if I really wanted to, though I really have nowhere to live. I bet Mom and Dad would rent an apartment for me, and then I could eventually find roommates for the spring semester.
The problem is, my old roommates are in their place for the school year, so I can’t live with them. I really don’t want to live with strangers. And I really don’t want to live on my
own either. Sleeping in my own apartment at night, every night sounds…
A little scary.
Not that I would admit that to anyone. I’m supposed to be an independent woman who can handle anything. I’m twenty years old, for the love of God. Years ago, women my age were already married and having children.
I’m definitely not ready for all of that responsibility. Living on my own, being my own person and not attached to someone else—that’s overwhelming too. I was comfortable being part of a team. Ava and Eli.
Eli and Ava.
Now I’m just Ava.
And I’m terrified. Despite everything we’ve gone through, I’m afraid to be on my own and do my own thing.
It’s almost as if I don’t know how.
My experience in Spain was amazing, but I was accompanied by someone the entire time. The host family I lived with had a daughter two years younger than me, and we became fast friends. I also made friends with others who were involved in the study abroad program. We would all see the sights together. I never, ever felt alone, and I was experiencing so many new things, I didn’t have time to think. Or worry. Or wonder what Eli was doing without me.
Okay, that last part is a lie. I definitely thought about Eli, and wondered what he was doing. But then I’d shove him out of my head and focus on what I was doing and experiencing. I could worry about him later.
Like now. It’s all I do. Doesn’t help that he pushes himself upon me every chance he can get. It’s like he can’t leave me alone, and I get it.
Even though he frustrates me and I’d love to sock him in the nuts like I threatened him when he snuck into my room last night, I still can’t resist him either.
I’m just as bad as he is.
“…and you never did explain how Eli ended up at your house, you know,” Ellie says, her words bringing me back to the present.
I tell her about seeing him at Southgate.
“All the restaurants in town and we both pick that one,” I say.
“Not like there are a lot of options,” Ellie says.
She’s so right. “Is it ever going to hurt less? Seeing him?”
“Yes,” Ellie says, her voice soft. “I know it hurts right now and feels overwhelming, but eventually, it’s going to lessen, and it’ll get easier. And someday, you’ll most likely forget all about him.”
“Doubtful,” I automatically say because I can’t imagine ever forgetting about Eli Bennett.
“I know. The fucker,” Ellie mutters.
We both laugh at that. Then I change the subject, asking about her podcast. When she was starting out, I was one of her first guests and we had so much fun and talked so much, she had to edit it down from three hours to one, which we found hilarious.
Back when I could laugh easily and was so confident. I was on top of the world and secure in my relationship with Eli. Even when I was down in San Diego and we had the occasional rough patch due to us living so far apart, I never worried about us. We were strong. We could make it through anything.
Everything.
“I’ll be at my parents just before Halloween,” Ellie says, pulling me out of my thoughts yet again. “Anyone doing anything?”
“If they’re not, we should plan something,” I suggest, suddenly excited at the possibilities. “We should host a costume party!”
“Where would we have the party? Oh wait…” Her voice drifts and I can tell she’s thinking. “I wonder if Jackson’s uncle still owns that cabin.”
“Oh, no way,” I breathe. I can’t imagine having a party there again. Talk about a flashback.
“I think he does. Wouldn’t it be fun to have a party there? We had a lot of good times back then,” Ellie says, her voice wistful.
“Yeah, you dreamily watching Jackson while he strummed his guitar for his fans,” I tease her.
“I was his number one fan though,” she says cheekily. “Even back then.”
“And especially right now.”
“It’s still hard for me to believe sometimes that we’re actually together and living this—life.” She hesitates for a moment. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rub it in your face or whatever. I’m just really happy.”
“And you deserve to be,” I tell her gently. “It’s okay to express your happiness. You deserve it.”
“It was worth it. Sometimes, we have to go through shit to get to the good stuff on the other side,” Ellie says, my oh-so-wise friend. “Maybe that’s what’s happening with you and Eli, Ava. You’re going through tough times to get to the good again.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” I say, but I don’t believe it.
I’m starting to think our good times are over.
Forever.
Eleven
Eli
“Thanks for taking the time to talk to us today, Eli,” says our new head coach Jeff Harris. He took over in the summer, and it’s been a pretty seamless transition. I’d been worried, at first, that a new coach would fuck up our team mojo, but if anything, Harris seems to have helped it along.
That and my internal rage that pushes me on and urges me to destroy every team we play. That helps a lot too.
“Sure, of course.” I settle into the chair on the other side of the table where Coach is sitting. We’re in one of the smaller workout rooms that our team doesn’t really use. And every single coach on staff seems to be sitting at this six-foot table, all of them smiling at me.
It’s kind of intimidating.
“We wanted to talk to you privately and let you know what’s going on.” Coach settles his clasped hands on top of the table, leaning over it. “Scouts have reached out to us, son.”
I frown. “What kind of scouts?”
“The ones who come from the NFL.”
“NFL teams?” I ask, sounding like an idiot.
“Yeah, of course,” Coach says.
“Which ones?” I need names. Facts.
“Like the Ravens and the Eagles and the Falcons.”
All bird teams. Huh.
That’s kind of weird.
“Other teams too,” Coach adds.
I lean back in my chair, taken aback. “Seriously?”
A few of them chuckle. “Seriously,” Coach says. “I’ve reviewed your past tapes, looked over your stats, and compared to last year, you’re on fuckin’ fire.”
I nod, overcome by what they’re telling me. My head is spinning with all the possibilities.
NFL scouts? I never believed that was in the cards for me. I was an adequate quarterback in high school, but nothing spectacular. Even though it kills me to admit it, I’m no Jake Callahan. That fucker is an amazing quarterback. So was his father. Jake will go on to the NFL for sure, but me?
Nah.
“The office has fielded a few calls,” Coach Harris continues. “And there are people coming to watch you at this weekend’s game.”
Shit, shit, shit.
“We don’t want to put pressure on you, Eli,” says the offensive line coach. Todd Donovan’s been with us since my freshman year and I love this guy. He was a Bulldog back in his day too and he has a special love for the team that no one else on the coaching staff does. He gets us. “Just keep up what you’re doing and you’ll be fine.”
“May I ask you a question?” Harris says.
I sit up straighter at his formal tone. “Sure.”
“What’s gotten into you this season that has you playing so well?” He squints at me, as if he’s trying to figure me out.
Should I tell him the truth? I broke up with my girlfriend and now I’m out to crush anyone who gets in my way on the football field? Because that’s the truth. I’m channeling all of my anger into each game and it’s keeping me on point.
It’s kind of wild. I’ve always been an emotional player, and usually I let my emotions get the best of me. Last season was a shit show because of it.
This season, though? Once I’m on the field, I’m in complete control of my emotions, my throwing, my accuracy, hell, even my running game is b
etter than it’s ever been. I’m stronger, I’m tougher, I’m more focused…
Huh. Maybe having a girlfriend fucked with my head and made me a worse player over the last three years. Now there’s something to consider.
Though even I can admit to myself that sounds like a load of horse shit.
“Maturity,” is what Todd says, answering for me. His gaze meets mine. “Our boy is a senior. He knows what he’s doing out on that field and it shows.”
“Thanks,” I say, grateful for the compliment.
“You keep this up, I’m thinking you could get drafted,” Coach says.
We talk a little more about the possibilities and the potential. There are other teammates of mine mentioned in passing that have NFL interest too, including fucking Diego Garcia, which is unbelievable, but then again not. They’ve already talked to him about it. They saved me for last.
By the time I’m exiting the room, I’m still in shock, blown away by what the coaching staff told me. The NFL? Really? I can barely wrap my head around it.
And I have no one I can tell. No one to share my exciting news with and celebrate.
My first instinct is to call Ava, but…yeah. No. She’s not the first person I run to anymore, and I miss her like fucking crazy, but this is not the way I should approach her.
Not now.
Hmm. My dad? He never answers my calls. Barely responds to my texts. Why set myself up for disappointment?
Mom? She’s probably taking a nap, sleepy after a late boozy lunch.
There’s only one person who I can reach out to who would understand, but I don’t know if he’ll actually be interested, let alone if he’ll even talk to me.
Fuck it. I text him anyway.
Me: Can I call you? I have some questions about scouts and the draft.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and make my way out of the, mostly empty, locker room, disappointed none of my teammates are around. We’ll have to get together later so I can tell them the good news.
Man. I shake my head, still blown away. I head outside, grimacing against the dim sunlight, making my way to the parking lot when my phone buzzes.
The Senior (College Years Book 4) Page 9
