Changing Forever

by Lisa De Jong

  I entwine my fingers with his. “What about your mom?”

  His eyes snap to me. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. Not right away, anyway. When he’s finally able to speak, his voice is so hushed I can barely hear him. “Em, there are some things that are just really hard for me to talk about. She’s one of them.”

  I run my thumb along the inside of his fingers, feeling the rough, calloused skin I’ve become accustomed to. “At some point, you need to. You’ll get a lot further if you leave the past behind. It’s weighing you down.”

  His jaw works back and forth as he closes his eyes. I wait patiently, hoping that by not pushing him, he’ll be able to take this step all by himself. Today might not be the day he opens up to me, but he will someday … he needs to.

  “It’s so hard when you rely on someone for everything, and then one day, they’re gone. Completely checked out. It’s so hard to see her there but not actually feel it.” His hand leaves mine, and he rests his elbows on the table, gripping his hair between his fingers. “This might sound bad, but in many ways, losing my mom the way we did was worse than losing Dad. At least with him, we knew he wasn’t coming back.”

  I scoot my chair closer to his, rubbing my hand across his back. His eyes are still pinched shut. It’s a way to keep the painful emotions inside. There’s so much we release through our eyes without realizing it. “Your sisters are lucky to have you,” I whisper, pressing my cheek against his shoulder.

  He rests his head on mine. “They might not see it that way when they’re ready to date.”

  “I assumed you weren’t going to let them.”

  He scoffs, nudging me with his shoulder. “We both know that the will of a woman is nothing to fight. They’re going to do it whether I let them or not. I might as well just lay down some rules.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, as long as they stay away from guys like their brother, they’ll be great,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

  I sit up straight, searching for his eyes. I wait until I find them before speaking again. “Really? I don’t think he’s so bad.”

  “And you’ve seen the worst parts of him,” he says, running his thumb along my lower lip. I stare at him, letting the silence speak for me while I wait for his mouth to touch mine. Luckily, I don’t have to wait long.

  When he’s done eating, he picks his plate up and reaches for mine. “Are you finished?”

  I push my plate forward, a signal for him to take it. While he wanders off to the kitchen to rinse the dishes, I put the leftovers in containers and stick them in the fridge. The normalness of all this puts a smile on my face. Tonight we’re acting like a regular couple, doing regular things, and it’s by far the best first date I’ve ever had.

  After I’m done, I stretch out on the couch and wait for him. The stupid skirt is cutting into my stomach, and I’m learning that leather is something I should avoid when I plan on eating more than a few leaves of lettuce.

  When he’s still not back a couple minutes later, I open the movie cabinet by the TV and search for something to watch. I don’t know how much time will actually be spent looking at the screen, but I still want to pick something we’ll both like.

  The first one that catches my eye is The Fugitive. I’ve had this weird obsession with Harrison Ford since I was a kid.

  Settling back on the couch, I pull a blanket over me and make myself comfortable.

  “The Fugitive, huh?”

  I lift my head, noticing Drake standing at the end of the couch. “If you don’t like it, we can watch something else.”

  He walks to me, placing one hand behind me on the couch and the other in front, effectively caging me in. “The movie is fine. Do you care if I join you?”

  “I’ve been waiting.”

  He leans in, tenderly kissing my lips. “Wait no more.”

  He climbs in behind me, pressing his chest to my back, tangling his legs with mine. It just feels right.

  “Em,” he whispers, pressing his hand to my stomach. “I need you to know this isn’t about sex for me. It never has been. I just … I don’t want you to feel that way.”

  I flip around to face him, staring into his dark eyes while brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. “If I ever thought you were just in this for sex, we wouldn’t be here now.”

  Wrapping his hand behind my neck, he draws my lips close to his. “I’m so fucking glad you can see right through me,” he says before kissing me.

  “You make it pretty easy, Chambers.”

  “I’m sorry if this night wasn’t as exciting as you hoped. I think I suck at this date stuff,” he whispers, running the back of his fingers up and down my arm.

  “This is one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.”

  He laughs, gently brushing his fingers through my hair. “You don’t need to feed my ego. It’s already big enough.”

  “True,” I say, patting his chest.

  “I love when you agree with me.”

  My eyelids are getting heavier and heavier. I lay my head against his chest, craving the comfort and closeness. “I’m tired, Drake.”

  “Do you want me to take you home?” he asks, playing with my hair again. “I have dessert, but we can skip it.”

  “It depends. What do you have?”

  As he laughs, his chest vibrates against my side. “Vanilla bean ice cream with berries.”

  Sitting up, I kiss the cleft of his chin. “How about if we have some ice cream, and then you can take me home.”

  He kisses me back, on the lips this time. “Deal. Oh, before I forget, I have something for you. Wait here.”

  I stand and watch as he disappears down the narrow hallway, patiently waiting to see what he has up his sleeve now. Shifting on my feet, I wipe my sweaty palms against my shirt while I come up with ideas of what it could be. In the end, I can’t get past the fluttery feeling in my stomach long enough to come up with anything solid.

  When he comes back into view, I immediately recognize the gift bag and tissue paper as the same one he’d given me outside of class after our presentation. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” I say, letting him place the handle on my fingers.

  “This is about starting over, Em. Remember that.”

  I nod, pulling the skinny white handles apart. I throw the tissue paper on the table in front of the couch and reach inside, pulling out the same jersey I’d worn a few weeks ago and another white envelope.

  “Will you come to my game tomorrow?” he asks, biting the corner of his lip.

  “Of course,” I squeal, jumping into his waiting arms. If someone had told me weeks ago that I’d be this excited to go to a football game, I would have told them they were crazy.

  WHEN I DROPPED EMERY OFF, I walked her all the way to her door, holding her hand the entire time. I stayed true to my word, not pushing any of the limits I had set for myself. I wanted it to feel like a first date, with good intentions.

  When I kissed her goodnight, I made sure that when she woke up this morning, she’d still remember it. I wanted it to be the type of kiss she’d still think about years from now, and it wasn’t that the other ones didn’t matter, but this was the first honest kiss.

  “Hey, Drake, Coach wants to talk to you in his office.”

  I groan. It’s James, the team manager. I don’t have anything against him, but Coach tends to make him do all the crap work, and this can’t be good. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

  I pull my jersey over my pads and lace up my shoes first. I want this game to be over so I can hang out with Emery. We have plans after the game, and I still have a lot to prove.

  Knocking on Coach’s door, I wait for him to call me in. Common courtesy isn’t usually my thing, but it’s not a good idea to piss the coach off before a game. He has the power to bench my ass, and if I get benched, I might as well kiss any chance of a pro career goodbye.

  “Come in!” he shouts t
hrough the door.

  I walk right in and sit front of his large wooden desk. The first thing I always do is try to read his expression. If the muscle in his jaw is twitching, it’s not going to be good. If his hand is anywhere near his forehead, he’s worried about something. The way the top of his head shines under the fluorescent light hints to a lot of time spent doing the later. In fact, his fingers are pressed to his temples right now.

  “What’s up?”

  He sits back in his large, black leather office chair, hands clasped behind his head. “I just wanted to remind you of today’s importance. The importance of the rest of the season.”

  I sigh, rubbing my sweaty palms against my thighs. “You never let me forget it.”

  He leans forward, sitting as close to me as his desk allows. “And what are you going to do to help us get there?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Are you here, Chambers, because some days I doubt it. Don’t let this be one of those days.” He pauses, looking down at his expensive gold watch. “Your dad is looking down on you.”

  My jaw works overtime, trying to hold back a few things I shouldn’t say. It’s so hard to hold back this much fucking anger, though. I hate when Coach plays that card. For one, he never met my dad, and two, he reminds me that this is my dad’s dream.

  Not mine.

  “Can I go now, Coach? I need to warm up.” I brace my arms on the old wooden chair, ready to bolt as soon as I get the chance.

  “Go ahead. Do what you have to do to get us the win.”

  I leave without a goodbye. There’s not much point when I know I’m going to see him out on the field again in minutes.

  My stomach starts to turn as I walk back into the locker room to pick up my towel. If I didn’t already have enough weight on my shoulders, Coach just reminded me how heavy it is.

  As I head toward the field, I twist my wristband, over and over again. I survey the green grass, refusing to look up in the stands until I’m in the middle of the field.

  As I gaze up into the student section, I feel my feet under me again. A fucking beautiful as hell girl with long dark hair is waving at me. And what makes it even better is she has my number across her chest. God, I’m glad she used the ticket I gave her.

  I rub my hand over my chest, a gesture I hope only she picks up on. She smiles, doing the exact same thing.

  Yeah, I can do this shit. It’s nothing I haven’t done before.

  It ends up being one of the best games I’ve played all season. I threw for three touchdowns, ran for one, and didn’t throw a single interception. If I can play like that the rest of the season, I won’t have any trouble keeping Coach happy.

  “You coming to the party tonight, Chambers?” Trip asks. I think he plays for the stupid fucking post-game parties.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Yeah? Is there something going on I don’t know about?”

  I laugh, using a towel to scrub the excess water from my hair. “Trust me. If there was something better going on, you’d know about it way before I would.”

  He slams his locker shut and throws his duffle bag over his shoulder. “You’re right. I’ll see you later, man.”

  Shaking my head, I watch him disappear out the locker room door. Again, I’m one of the last guys left in the locker room. I pull on my long-sleeve white button-down and throw my blazer over top. It’s time to claim my prize.

  This time as I step out into the hallway, I don’t have to wonder if Emery will be there or not. She’s opposite the door, relaxing against the old cement wall.

  “Hey,” I say, crossing the hallway.

  She straightens, a huge smile playing on her lips. “Good game, number twelve.”

  I cup one side of her face in my hand, brushing my thumb across her lower lip. “Did it earn me a celebratory kiss?”

  Her tongue touches the pad of my thumb, teasing me. “I suppose I could swing that.”

  My eyes lock on hers, mirroring the tender, softness in them. The second my hand moves down to her neck, her arms wrap tightly around me, pulling my lips down to hers. It was my idea to take this slow this time, but moments like this make that so fucking hard. I suck her lower lip between mine, listening to the soft moan that escapes her.

  Her hand presses against the back of my head, begging for more. I answer, tangling my tongue with hers. Our lips mold together perfectly. I’m so fucking glad I’m one of the last ones to leave.

  I’m not hiding her any longer. If anyone wants to say anything about our relationship, they’re going to meet my fist.

  I trace the inside of her lips one last time before pulling back. If I don’t stop this now, I never will. “Are you ready to go?” I ask, wrapping my hand around hers.

  She nods, matching me step for step. The last time we walked out of here together, I fucked up. Not this time. I’m holding onto her as tightly as I can until I don’t have any other choice.

  “So, where are we going tonight?”

  “Kate asked if we wanted to go to a new club downtown with her and Beau? I didn’t tell her yes or no yet because I wanted to ask you first.” She smiles nervously, looking up at me from the corner of her eye.

  I’ve never had someone care so much about what I think before. It’s nice. “I’m up for anything as long as we don’t have to play football. Is that what you want to do?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t think clubs are really my scene, but I’ve never been to one before so I don’t know. We could go to that little coffee shop on campus. It’s open late.”

  Club or coffee shop? I’d pick the club every time. This is probably just the beginning of many differences to come. “There’s no decision to make there. We’re going to the club.”

  A couple guys are still lingering in the parking lot when we reach my car, and in an effort to erase what happened last time, I envelop her in my arms and kiss her. Her body’s tense at first, but then relaxes, leaning into me. When I pull back, I kiss the tip of her nose, noticing how cool her skin feels.

  “Was that redemption?” she teases, wrapping her hands around my upper arms.

  “You can call it whatever you want, Em. I’m going to stick with fucking amazing.”

  Her chest vibrates against mine. “At least we agree it was good.”

  Reaching my arm around her, I open the passenger side door. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She climbs in, appearing relaxed, and stretches her long legs out in front of her. The way she looks up at me with a smile, eyes sparkling, damn near knocks the wind out of me. What is this girl doing to me?

  I run around the front of the car and jump in, rubbing my cold hands together. I hate the gloves that coach gives me, and I usually refuse to wear them because they mess with my grip on the ball. On days like this, I’m surprised I have any damn feeling left in my hands.

  “Do you want me to take you home so you can change before we go out?”

  “If we’re going to the club tonight, yes.” She gets this mischievous look on her face, like a kid with a master plan to rob the cookie jar. I don’t think there will be many boring moments with this girl.

  “Just make sure you actually wear clothes that cover your whole body,” I say, reaching for her hand.

  “You don’t have to worry about me.” She winks, and I know I’m in big trouble.

  Fuck.

  “ARE YOU SURE THIS LOOKS OKAY? I feel like I don’t have anything on.”

  Kate lifts my arms up to the side, surveying the length of my skirt. “You’re fine. Beau and I went once before, and that skirt looks long in comparison.”

  Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I evaluate the outfit Kate helped me pick out. The skirt is red, form fitting and short … it definitely doesn’t pass the straight-arm test. I’m more comfortable with the black off-the-shoulder sweater she picked to go with it, though. The heels, on the other hand, are killer. I stand at least four inches taller than I normally do. Thank God Drake’s six-four
.

  “Kate, Drake’s not going to like this.”

  Kate comes up behind me, seeing exactly what I see. “Oh, he’ll like it. He just won’t like watching other guys like it.”

  I laugh, pulling some of my curls in front of my shoulders. “That’s not likely to happen.”

  “You’ll see,” she says, walking back to her closet.

  “You don’t strike me as the type who enjoys this club stuff,” I say honestly. Kate’s a lot like me … we both work hard and generally lay low.

  Pulling out a black corset, she holds it in front of her. “I didn’t think I was either, but Beau thought I should try it once, and it was fun. It’s different than parties, you know? There’s a few more rules and a little less, uh, nakedness going on.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  “You’re going to have fun. You’ll see.” She holds up a green halter-top next. “Which one do you like better?”

  “The green, no question.”

  “I knew you’d say that.”

  While she finishes getting dressed, I put my money and ID into my black clutch. I check my phone, anxious for ten o’clock to roll around. Things are so new, and I guess I’m afraid that if we’re apart too long, he’ll change his mind and pull back again.

  “How do I look?”

  I look up at Kate and smile. She looks like a typical country girl: green halter-top, denim mini skirt, and worn cowboy boots. “You look like you.”

  She grimaces, sticking her hands in her pockets. “If you don’t want to wear that, it’s okay. I mean, I want you to be comfortable.”

  “You know, it would probably be good for me to take a risk every once in a while.”

  She laughs. “That’s not really what I’d call a risk.”

  A knock at the door interrupts us. Kate runs in front of the mirror, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. “It’s time.”