One Last Kiss: A Second Chance Romance

by Lauren Wood

  Watching him go it never occurred to me that those few minutes standing on the practice field in the warm sunshine would determine the path of my life for many years to come.

  Chase would steal my heart, then break it. But he would leave me with the greatest gift I’ll ever know.

  Chapter 3

  Chase

  “You’re going to have to take it easy with this arm for a while, Chase,” Dr. Morgan, my orthopedist, said as he put one hand on my right shoulder and the other on my right elbow. “Ready?”

  I heard him take a deep breath, like he was the one about to be in such incredible pain that he may pass out from it.

  I took a deep breath of my own and held it. I gave him a nod and he held the hand firm on my shoulder and started moving my arm up and down, up and down, like he was pumping water from an old well. I gritted my teeth and fought back the urge to scream. Mother f….

  Just moving my arm up and down still hurt like hell, even after all this time, after three surgeries and nine screws and I don’t know how much wire or how many staples, and a month of intense rehab at this facility with the best therapists the rest of my money could buy, it still hurt like a mother fucker.

  “Does that hurt?” he asked each time he moved my arm up or down a few inches.

  I winced at him. Surely the pain on my face and the sweat popping out of my forehead like a cartoon answered his question. I gritted my teeth and said, “If I say no will you stop doing it?”

  He gently lowered my arm to my side. The pain didn’t stop when his hands went away. If felt like my arm was literally on fire and the rest of my body was quickly catching. The sweat now covered my body. I felt nauseous, thought I was going to puke. I squeezed my eyes shut to push back the tears and swore at him under my breath.

  “I’m going to let you go home today,” he said, lowering himself in the chair next to the exam table and picking up my chart from the counter to his left.

  He blew out a long breath as he flipped back through the pages he’d seen a hundred times. Dr. Morgan looked old and tired. I had tested his abilities to the fullest and there was nothing more he could do for me. I knew he would be glad to finally see me go.

  When the helicopter brought me into the trauma ER at Atlanta Memorial from the wreck site (I refuse to call it an accident), I barely had a pulse.

  My pupils were dilated and my breathing was labored. My right lung had been punctured by one of three fractured ribs and was filling with fluid.

  My collarbone was broken in two and I had a lump the size of a softball where by forehead came in contact with the airbag. I had a concussion they were afraid might lead to brain bleed, then that would be assuming that I had a brain.

  Worst of all was my right arm – or what was left of it. Somehow my right hand had slid through the steering wheel and wrenched in three directions as the Porsche’s dashboard crushed against the front seat.

  My humerus, the bone in my upper arm, was broken in three different places. My radius, the larger bone in my forearm, was broken in two places, and the ulna, the small bone at the back of the forearm, was in several pieces.

  Bones were sticking out of my arm in three different places. I found out much later that the ER doctor suggested they just cut off the arm, but the orthopedic specialist on call said that he could fix it; or at least keep it attached to my body until the surgeon arrived.

  I know, I should be glad that they saved the arm, but sitting there on the edge of that exam table with big tears in my eyes and pain shooting through me so badly that it made my hair hurt, I almost wished they’d just taken the arm.

  Sometimes I think they should have just let me die. My career was over; and I defined myself by my career. I was an NFL quarterback, goddammit.

  Do you know how many NFL quarterbacks there are in the world? Do you know what a small percentage of human beings can throw or run or catch a football good enough to be in the NFL? Not goddamn many, that’s how many.

  I rubbed my eyes and listened to the doctor tell me again not to lift anything heavy or try to throw a football or play too much violin. Yeah, he’s a funny guy…

  I told him not to worry about me. Just sign the forms and let me go. I could barely hold a football now, much less throw one for touchdowns in the NFL.

  And if I couldn’t play football, I’d just as soon be dead.

  As he drones on, I can hear myself breathing. I can feel the beat of my heart in my chest. I feel the pulse of my blood running through my veins, but for all practical purposes, I am a dead man walking.

  My life, my hopes, my dreams, all died that night, smashed up against that tree; their remains scattered along the side of the road with the man I used to be.

  Chapter 4

  Mollie

  That night, I stood on the sidelines with the camera in hand, watching Chase throw touchdown after touchdown as Centerville annihilated Hoover Central.

  I didn’t realize it until the game was almost over, but I was so enthralled watching Chase play that I had forgotten to take any shots of the other players. I had an entire roll of film that was just shots of Chase.

  Chase was a vision to watch in his crimson jersey and white pants. After every completed pass he’d look my way and pretend to snap my picture. I saw the coach glare at me a couple of times, but I didn’t care, so long as Chase kept looking my way.

  When the final whistle blew and the team came off the field and trotted toward the locker room, Chase ran over to me and tugged the helmet off his head. His long blonde hair was plastered to his head with sweat. He wiped his forehead on the sweatband around his wrist and gave me the smile that I knew I would never get tired of seeing.

  “Did you get some good shots?” he asked.

  “Yes, some great shots!” I lied. “And congratulations. You were amazing.”

  He pretended to blush. Chase didn’t need me to tell him he was amazing. Everyone told him that. He knew how amazing he was. Which made me wonder again why he was talking to me.

  His eyebrows went up as he looked at me. “So, are you up for the party?”

  I made a pained face. “I don’t know, it’s kind of late.”

  He rolled his eyes and laughed at me. “Come on, Mollie Carter, what are you, an old maid? It’s barely ten o’clock.”

  “I know, but…”

  “Mollie,” he said, his voice softening. He put a dirty hand on my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I really want you to go.”

  And Chase always gets what he wants. The words echoed in my head. I was no fool. Something was going on and I had no intention of going anywhere with him until I knew what it was. I crossed my arms over the chest and worked up a frown.

  “Okay, what’s the deal?”

  He blinked at me. “I’m sorry?”

  “The deal, Chase Richards. What’s the deal?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’ve never given me the time of day, then you start flirting with me after the photo shoot and now you want me to go to a party with you?” I gritted my teeth at him. “If this is some kind of stupid football team bet, I’ll…”

  “Whoa, whoa, relax,” he said, smiling again. He held up his hands as if he thought I might sock him in the nose. “There is no deal, honest.”

  “Then why?” I shook my finger at him. “And don’t lie to me. I’ve got a built-in lie detector and I’ll be able to tell if you’re up to something.”

  He looked around for a moment to make sure we were alone. We weren’t, of course. The rest of the team and the airhead cheerleaders were still running all over the field in celebration. But there was no one within earshot, so Chase looked deeply into my eyes and spoke the words that swept me off my feet.

  “I’ve wanted to talk to you since freshman year,” he said. “Since the first time you came into Mrs. Black’s chemistry class.”

  It was my turn to blink at him. I remembered that day. It was the first time I was aware that Chase was on the planet
, even though I knew he was well out of my little universe.

  “You were wearing a red sweater with a little Winnie the Pooh on it,” he said, smiling. He poked a finger to my chest, above my heart. “Right here.”

  I stared down at the finger, just inches above my breast. I mumbled, “You remember that?”

  “Of course I do.” He shrugged and pulled back his finger. My eyes sadly watched it go. “I’ve always liked you, Mollie. I just never had the nerve to say anything.”

  “You have?” I knew I was stammering, but I couldn’t help it. My head was swimming and my stomach was churning. Chase Richards likes me? Me?? Mollie the yearbook nerd?? Who knew??

  “So, come with me to the party?” he asked, holding out his hand. I put my hand in his and he brought my fingers to his lips and gave them a little kiss. I nearly wet my pants.

  He said, “If you don’t have a good time we’ll leave and I’ll take you right home. Or anywhere else you want to go.”

  “You will?” God, I must have sounded star struck.

  “I will.”

  I felt my head nodding. I heard myself say, “Okay, um, I’m in my mom’s car…”

  “That’s no problem. Why don’t you take the car home and I’ll pick you up there after I get all this mud and dirt off of me.”

  “You know where I live?”

  “Of course, silly. We used to ride the same bus until I got my license. Don’t you remember? I passed your house twice a day for years.”

  I did remember, but was shocked that he did. I just nodded like a total idiot and he leaned in and kissed my cheek, then scooped up his helmet and headed for the showers.

  I stood there in a daze, rubbing my cheek until nearly everyone had cleared the stands.

  I packed up the camera gear and lugged it out to my car. I had a stupid smile on my face that wouldn’t go away.

  Chase Richardson likes me.

  When did the world go insane?

  Chapter 5

  Chase

  “Hey, aren’t you Chase Richards?”

  I looked up to find the taxi driver who’d picked me up from the bus station staring at me in the rearview mirror. I slammed the door, blew out a long sigh, and said, “I used to be.”

  “Man, that was just awful, that wreck, I mean.”

  He hunched over the steering wheel as if he thought I might bring him bad luck, and shook his head. I heard him say it several more times as we sat waiting for a break in the traffic so we could pull out of the bus station parking lot.

  “Just freakin awful, man.”

  “Yeah, just freakin’ awful,” I said quietly, turning my eyes to look out the window. He didn’t say anything else as he pulled into the heavy afternoon traffic and took the interstate south out of Birmingham. I guess maneuvering the heavy traffic required all of his concentration. Thank God.

  After thirty minutes of stop and go traffic, we took the Centerville exit and ten minutes later we were on Main Street, ten minutes from my mom’s house on Fern Street.

  We passed my old high school and I immediately thought of Mollie. I remembered the first time I spoke to her. She was taking the football team picture for the yearbook and we were all clowning around like testosterone-infused idiots. The coach had to rein us in like little kids at a birthday party.

  I remember how serious she looked, fiddling with the camera and doing her best to be patient with us. When I smiled at her she frowned and quickly looked away. I still don’t know why, but I was immediately smitten. Maybe it was because she was so different from the other girls I was used to hanging around with.

  Mollie wouldn’t have been caught dead in a cheerleader uniform. She wasn’t a blonde bimbo who would blow me under the bleachers in the gym or let me shove my clumsy hands in her pants when we were making out by the lockers.

  Mollie was different. Mollie wasn’t a bad girl. She didn’t drink or do drugs or sneak out at night. And she knew exactly what she wanted out of life. Maybe that’s what made me fall in love with her: her strength, determination, and independence. And those tits, oh man, those tits…

  Mollie had her whole future mapped out and knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be a teacher. She’d go to college, graduate, come back to Centerville, get a job at the middle school, find some nice guy and settle down and have a houseful of kids. For a long time, she thought that nice guy was me. Turned out I wasn’t such a nice guy after all.

  She was smart and funny and beautiful, with her curly red hair and freckles across her nose. She never wore makeup because she didn’t need it. She kept her hair pulled back in a ponytail most of the time because she said it had a mind of its own.

  She never wore short skirts or Daisy Dukes or halter tops or anything that showed off her body. I didn’t know just how rocking her body was until the first time I saw her naked; which was a few months after we started dating, the night of my last high school football game.

  She gave me her virginity that night and I gave her my heart. When I close my eyes and I can still see her lying next to me, naked in the warm night air, spread out on a sleeping bag in the bed of my dad’s old truck.

  Mollie had told me over and over that she intended to save herself for marriage, and I had every intention of honoring her wishes, I never pushed, but that night was special.

  We were leaving our teenage lives behind and heading to college in the fall. We were adults now, or soon would be. It was time we started acting like it.

  Mollie must have felt it, too, because she was the one who initiated the sex that night. We often parked by the lake and spread the sleeping bags out in the bed of my dad’s old truck. We’d lie back there for hours and make out till our lips gave out and stare up at the stars, making wishes and talking about our future.

  That night, Mollie pulled back from kissing me and, without a word, sat up and pulled her t-shirt over her head, then unhooked her bra and let it slide down her arms.

  I couldn’t believe her tits. I’d touched them, but I had never seen them. They were full, round, milky white in the moonlight with pink areolas and thick nipples.

  She didn’t say a word. She just smiled at the shocked look on my face. She lay on her back and shimmied out of her jeans and panties, then told me to do the same. She didn’t have to tell me twice. I was out of my clothes before she could blink.

  I lay down beside her and started to caress her breasts as I kissed her full lips. Our tongues meeting seemed to bring a new spark. I swear, I could smell ozone in the air.

  I felt her hand go down my chest, across my stomach, and finally – FINALLY – her fingers closed around my cock, which was stiff as a board. She was a little clumsy at first, we both were, but soon she had her fingers sliding up and down, milking me as I sighed at her touch.

  I squeezed her full right breast and moved my mouth to her nipples. I suckled at her right nipple as my hand slid down to her pussy. I held my breath when my fingers reached the thick pubic hair above her clit. I’d learn later that her pubes were the same shade of red as the hair on her head. Yes, the carpet does match the drapes...

  I gently rubbed her clit with my thumb and she moaned in my ear. My fingers slid down to her pussy. She was soaking wet and hot to the touch. I gently slid a finger inside her and heard the breath catch in her throat.

  Her hand was pumping me, quicker, quicker. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. I looked into her eyes and asked, “Are we…”

  “Yes,” she said, sighing through her dreamy smile. “Just be gentle.”

  She never let go of me as I moved on top of her. She spread her legs wide and guided me into her opening. I slid in slowly, until I felt the resistance. Mollie bit her bottom lip and gave me a little nod.

  When I pushed through the thin veil of tissue protecting her virginity, she gave a little cry, but then put her hands on my hips to set the pace, guiding me back and forth inside her.

  Less than a minute later, we orgasmed for the first time together. It woul
d be the first of many orgasms we’d share over the next two years.

  Mollie gave me the greatest gift a girl could give a boy that night. There was pain, a little blood, and a few tears, but in the end, there was pleasure, so much pleasure.

  When it was over, she kissed me deeply and simply said, “Love you.”

  The taxi hitting a pothole jarred me from my memories of that night. In the fall of that year we both went off to the University of Alabama, her as an education major and me majoring in football. My degree path was in physical education, but I majored in football.

  Mollie and I shared an apartment off campus, though our moms never knew that we were living together. They would have shit bricks had they known. Both our dads had died years before. I think that was another thing that helped bond us together.

  We were blissfully happy for two years, then I left college at the end of my sophomore year to enter the NFL draft. The Atlanta Falcons picked me up in the tenth round.

  We made love the night before I left for training camp in Atlanta. I rented us a room at the Airport Hilton so we could be together until the minute I stepped on the plane.

  I broke up with her over the phone just a couple of months later. I know, it was a dick move, but at that time, I was a dick; full-fledged and proud of it.

  That was two years ago now. I’m not so much of a dick anymore. I am just a pathetic asshole.

  And to my regret, I haven’t even spoken to Mollie since.

  Chapter 6

  Mollie

  I’ve never stopped thinking about Chase. In fact, not a day has gone by in the last two years that he hasn’t been on my mind. Sure, I’m still pissed at him, I mean, who wouldn’t be, for dumping me so unceremoniously after getting picked up in the NFL draft, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care what happens to him.

  I remember how my entire body ached as I watched the video of his wreck on the morning news a year ago. When I saw how mangled his car was my heart literally stopped in my chest.

  I held my breath, waiting for them to say whether he was dead or alive. When they said he was alive, but not expected to live, I nearly had a breakdown.