Second Chance: A Military Football Romance

by Claire Adams

  “Mom, we’ve been driving for a while and he’s had a long day.” Ew, she was like, totally enamored with him.

  “Next time,” Parker said. “Chloe’s right; I just want to get home and take a shower and maybe a nap.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll just give you two a minute. Nice to see you Parker, looking forward to seeing you again!”

  She hurried off, not back to her chair though, but inside, leaving the two of us standing there.

  “Errr, sorry about all that,” I said.

  “What, your mom?” He shrugged. “She seems nice. Anyway. Thanks for keeping me company today, I had a good time.”

  He started to turn for the car door, but then hesitated. He came over to me and we both just stood there.

  “Well,” I said. “Thanks for—”

  He leaned down and kissed me, just a peck, not like a real kiss, but I turned my head at the last second and he ended up kissing the side of my face, but not my cheek, but lower, almost my jaw.

  I felt my face starting to get hot, but he seemed completely unbothered. “I’ll see ya around,” he said. And then he got in his car and drove away.

  *****

  The last thing I wanted was to be interrogated by my mother about what our day had been like, so I texted Tara back and said I could meet up with her. She said she was melting in this heat and wanted an iced latte, so we agreed to meet down at the local coffee shop, Staccato.

  We sat at one of the outside tables, under the umbrella, sipping our iced lattes.

  “Spill,” Tara said. “All the details. Tell me.”

  I grimaced. “It’s not as awesome as you think. I think I really messed up.”

  She looked at me curiously. “Uh-oh. What happened?”

  “What happened is we ended up seeing Graham. At the bike race. I had no idea that I’d run into him there. I mean, what are the chances?”

  “What was he doing at the bike race?”

  “He was in it! He was doing the race. I had no idea.”

  “So how’d that go?”

  “He wasn’t psyched.”

  “You had no way of knowing he’d be there; it’s not your fault. You weren’t doing anything wrong.” Tara shrugged. “Am I missing something here? What is the problem? I mean, it’s not like he walked in on you guys doing it, did he?”

  “No, nothing has happened between us!” I yelped. “I agreed to go to the county fair, because he came to my house and asked me and my mother was right there and if I said no, I’d never hear the end of it from her. We had fun, but it wasn’t like this great romance between us or anything. And then he asked me about the bike race and it just seemed like something else fun to do, and I just agreed without really thinking about it.”

  “Because you did nothing wrong. You just need to talk to Graham. If he’s bothered seeing you with someone else, that means he actually likes you.”

  “Or does that mean he’s really possessive and controlling?”

  Tara frowned, thinking. “Controlling is not good, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being a little possessive.”

  “I guess I just don’t know the rules for all of this. I mean, do I assume we’re going out because we slept together?”

  “Oh, hell no! No, you do not. The whole relationship topic is actually a conversation you have to have, whether or not you guys are boyfriend/girlfriend or just casual, or what. I mean, assuming is all well and good until one person assumes one thing and the other person assumes the exact opposite. Just look at me and Michael! I assumed that everything was fine between us and he was probably thinking about that other girl! If he had actually grown a pair and talked to me about this before just going out and sticking his dick in the first pretty thing that caught his eye, then we might have been able to salvage our relationship. I think you just need to talk to Graham. Just be a mature adult.”

  “The other thing this made me realize was that Graham and I don’t even really know each other that well. If we did, I would’ve known that racing bikes was an interest of his. But I had no clue.”

  “I’m hearing a lot more about Graham than I am about Parker. How’d it go with him? Did he wear Spandex? God, he must’ve looked good.”

  “He tried to kiss me when he dropped me off.”

  “Oh my God! Tried? What happened?”

  “Well, no, I guess he did kiss me, but I turned my head and he ended up kissing me here.” I gestured to the lower part of my face. “It was actually kind of awkward. Except he didn’t seem that bothered by it. Is he just one of those people that is completely unbothered by that sort of thing? Like, he’s that confident? I’d be mortified if I tried to kiss someone and they turned their head at the last second. But he didn’t seem phased.”

  Tara pursed her lips around the straw of the latte and nodded. “Yeah, I could totally see someone like him being like that. Which is kind of an awesome way to be, if you think about it. I totally hear what you’re saying—I’d be freaking out and obsessing over it for days too, if I tried to kiss someone and they turned away like that—but maybe it’s better that he’s just, you know, not freaking out over it.”

  “It doesn’t really matter.”

  “Well, what matters,” she said, “is why you turned your head. Um, hello? When someone like Parker goes to kiss you, you don’t turn your head.”

  “But I wasn’t hanging out with him because I wanted us to kiss.”

  “Why were you hanging out with him then?”

  “Honestly? To get my mother off my case. I figured if we hung out a couple of times, I could tell her that I’d done it and it wasn’t going to work out and she should just leave me alone about it because she clearly sucks at matchmaking.”

  Tara smiled. “I think it’s kind of cute that she’s being so proactive about it.”

  “You’re giving her way too much credit; she’s not being proactive, she’s being a pain in the ass. Anyway. I mean, yeah, I admit that there was a little part of me that was kind of in disbelief that I was even hanging out with Parker to begin with, but you know what? He’s just a guy. Yeah, he’s better-looking than a lot of guys, but he’s just, you know, a person. And we had fun, but I like Graham. I would’ve rather gone to the race with Graham than with Parker.”

  Tara sighed. “If only I had your problem,” she said. “Trying to decide which gorgeous guy to spend my time with. Well, Chloe, it sounds like you just need to go talk to Graham, then.”

  “I know, you’re right.” And she was. But I wanted to think of exactly what I would say first, because I wanted him to understand that this whole situation was not at all what he probably thought it was.

  *****

  I’d have this talk with him in person, I decided, but I texted to see if there was a time he wanted to meet up. A whole day, and then another, went by without a response. I sent him a second text.

  Wasn’t sure if you got my first message, but I’d like to see you. When is a good time to meet up? Or should I just ambush you at the shop again?

  I hesitated and then added a smiley face before I pressed send, not wanting that last part to come across as a threat.

  Still no response.

  I tried not to feel annoyed. And then that annoyance turned into anxiety. I texted once more, no words this time, just a question mark.

  Still, nothing.

  From Graham, anyway. Parker had texted the day after the race and asked if I wanted to take his dad’s boat out and hang out on Pleasant Bay. He said he was feeling much better and felt that he needed to make up for the other day and show me a good time. And boating on Pleasant Bay actually sounded like fun, but I told him I was pretty busy working on my sculpture project for the next few days.

  No worries, he wrote back, almost immediately. I’ll be in touch!

  I sighed, wishing that it was Graham who was so prompt in responding and eager to hang out, not Parker.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Graham

  Is this a booty call?

>   That was what Francesca texted back to me when I asked her if she wanted to come by the shop.

  Because if I remember correctly, my next appointment with u isn’t scheduled until next week.

  I couldn’t think of anything witty to reply. I just wanted to have the kind of sex that didn’t involve a lot of talking or verbal foreplay.

  Something like that, I wrote back.

  I might be able to oblige u. Am actually in ur ‘hood. Be by soon.

  I almost didn’t respond, but then typed a quick: OK.

  I was at work. I was at work and there was always the possibility that a customer could walk in, though it was mid-afternoon and that was generally our slowest time. Even so, I didn’t actually give a shit. Besides, I was the boss here, so I could—within reason—do whatever I wanted. And right now, this was what I wanted to do.

  A few minutes later, I heard the door open. I looked up, fully expecting it to be Francesca. It wasn’t though—it was Chloe.

  She’d been texting me ever since the race and I hadn’t gotten back to her. Not because I was trying to play immature games or anything, but because I knew she’d want to talk, and try to explain this whole thing with Parker, and then I’d probably have to end up telling her that this summer was supposed to be about shit being drama-free and that just wasn’t happening so far.

  “Hi,” she said, walking over to the counter. “I ... I was texting you but I hadn’t heard anything back. So I’m stopping by. Because I need to talk to you about something, and I wanted to do it in person.”

  “Okay,” I said, because I wasn’t just going to demand she leave. I could at least hear her out. I just hoped that Francesca wasn’t going to show up while she was still here. “I’ll listen to whatever it is you have to say, but make it quick because I’ve got another customer coming any second.”

  She took a deep breath, like she was about to start reciting something in front of a classroom. “Look,” she said. “I’m really sorry if it caught you off guard, seeing me at the race with Parker. Like I said, nothing has happened between us, and I guess I just really don’t know the rules for how you’re supposed to be when you’re seeing someone.” Her face started to get red. “But that’s just the thing—I didn’t know if we’re actually seeing each other. Like, I know we’re sleeping together but ... but what else does that mean?”

  “It doesn’t have to mean anything. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, but it really doesn’t have to mean anything. As in, it’s fine if you want to hang out with Parker, or whoever you want.”

  “It’s just so confusing.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  The thing was—she was right, it was confusing, but we were confused for different reasons. I just wasn’t used to feeling like this toward someone, and it kind of scared me, not that I would ever actually admit that out loud. It wasn’t just that Chloe was attractive—I’d been with plenty of hot girls before and hadn’t had feelings like this. It was more like I wanted to be with her, not just for sex, but because I liked being around her. Some guys might welcome that sort of feeling, but for me it was foreign, completely unexpected, and not entirely comfortable. In other words, something that I just didn’t want to deal with right now.

  So, I tuned her out. She was still talking, and I was standing there, looking at her, nodding every once in a while, but I wasn’t actually hearing any of what she was saying.

  And then I saw Francesca pull up and park, right out front of the shop. She came breezing in, a big smile on her face. She was wearing an incredibly short pair of shorts, showing off those long, muscular legs of hers, and a black tank top that was just short enough to show off the thinnest strip of her toned midriff.

  “Hey there, handsome,” she said. “I’m so glad you changed your mind.” She looked at Chloe. “I’ll just wait in your office until you’re done with your customer.” She sauntered off, and though she didn’t say exactly why it was she was there, it was pretty clear.

  Chloe watched her go, the redness on her cheeks intensifying. “Who’s that?” she asked softly.

  “That? No one. She’s a customer. And a friend of mine.”

  “Oh.” She nodded slowly, biting at her lower lip. She kept looking toward the back, as though she was expecting Francesca to reappear and explain exactly who she was to me. “I think I’ll go.”

  There was a part of me that wanted to stop her, that wanted to tell her that it wasn’t what she thought it was—even if it kind of was. But I didn’t say anything. I just stood there and watched her walk out of the shop, and even when she turned and looked at me as the door was closing behind her, I still didn’t say anything. Francesca was out back in my office, waiting for me, and Chloe was walking out, after telling me she was sorry. And here I was, standing in the middle of it, feeling like shit.

  *****

  Francesca was stretched out on the chaise lounge, looking like she was about to indulge in a late morning nap. She opened one eye when I came in.

  “I feel like such a harlot,” she said. “But I kind of like it.”

  I leaned against the side of my desk and looked at her. “I think I called you down here for no reason,” I said. “I’m not ... I’ve got to get to work.”

  “On that customer out there? I can wait.”

  “She’s not ... never mind. No, she left. I’ve got some other work I need to do. I’m just not ... it’s just not a good idea.”

  Of course I felt like a complete asshole, having called her to come down here, and now here I was, changing my mind. But ... no. I just couldn’t, not because part of me didn’t want to, but because I just didn’t want to invite anymore bullshit into my life.

  Francesca raised her eyebrows and gave me the are you fucking kidding me? look, then she let out a long sigh and sat up.

  “Can I give you a little advice?” she said.

  “Sure, why not.”

  “Get your head straightened out. You don’t know if you’re coming or going.” A slightly cynical smile crossed her face. “Well. You’re not coming, we know that. I’ll see you later, Graham.”

  And then she left, too, much in the same manner Chloe had.

  *****

  After they were both gone, I tried to find something to busy myself with, but Helena had closed up last night and left the shop in good shape. I didn’t want a customer to come in; I wasn’t in the right state of mind to do any tattooing at the moment.

  The last thing I probably needed was a coffee, but I didn’t care; I needed something, and I wasn’t about to start drinking on the job. I stepped outside into the hot, humid air and locked the door behind me. There were several cafes to choose from within walking distance, but I chose the closest one, despite it being trendy and probably overrun with tourists.

  Inside, the air conditioner was blasting and the air was icy.

  I grabbed my coffee from the counter and turned, almost bumping into Tara, who was looking down, tapping away at her phone. “Oh,” she said, her eyebrows shooting up. “Hey.” She looked back down at her phone and then up at me. “I was just texting with Chloe. She said she just tried to go and talk with you.”

  It was hard to read the expression on her face; I couldn’t tell if she was about to just turn around and ignore me or try to throw that frothy iced drink of hers in my face.

  “But before I leave,” she continued, “I see an empty table over there; will you come sit over there with me for a minute?”

  We went over to the table and sat down.

  “So, obviously I don’t know all the details yet of what happened, but I feel like the two of you are kind of amateurs about this whole thing.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What?”

  “Chloe is because you’re really the only guy she’s ever been with, but you—you might have been with a lot of women before, but I can tell that you’ve never really done the whole relationship thing, am I right?”

  “Never felt compelled to.”

&nbs
p; “Until now.” She gave me an even look.

  I took a sip of my coffee, not fully wanting to answer that statement.

  “Not that I’m trying to make up excuses or anything, but I never had that positive, loving relationship modeled for me as a kid. My mother isn’t someone who you’d nominate for any mom of the year awards, I can guarantee you that. And my stepfather and I never got along.”

  “What about your dad? He not in the picture?”

  “No. Definitely not in the picture. So, it always just seemed like a smart idea to steer clear of any relationships, and just stick to the casual stuff.”

  “Which is all well and good until you meet someone you actually like.”

  I thought back to Danielle. We were supposed to just be casual, but then she said she’d fallen for me. It was a fine line, I was realizing, one that up until this point I’d always done a good job of navigating, but now I seemed to have found myself on the other side.

  “It just seems like you’re denying yourself something that you actually want,” Tara said. “I mean, I can tell you like Chloe. Pretty much anyone can—all they have to do is see you guys together. So, maybe just stop being afraid and go for it. You don’t really strike me as the type of guy that would let fear hold him back from anything.”

  “I’m usually not. Which is why this is kind of throwing me for a loop.”

  “Listen,” Tara said. “You should just talk to her, okay? Just go over there. You probably don’t know where she lives, do you? Here, I’ll tell you. It’s not that difficult to find.”

  She grabbed one of the napkins from the holder and pulled a pen from her purse. She wrote down the address and then slid the napkin across the table. I took it and looked down at her bubble print.

  “Just use Google maps if you don’t know where it is,” she said. “Well! I’m glad we got that out of the way. Now, there’s one more thing that I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “I really should get back to the shop.”

  “Okay, okay. This will only take a minute. I don’t know if Chloe mentioned this to you, but I had ... I had posted a picture of you on Facebook.”