Breaking Tackles: A Taking Flight Novel (29 page)

“Monsieur?” the waiter asks, having come to the side of the table where Jax and I are seated. I go ahead and order the French onion soup and beef bourguignon, and Jax gets a veal dish that I would have never been able to pronounce.

The four of us make amiable small talk about the weather and the outlook for tomorrow’s game. The bottle of wine arrives, and after it’s poured, Courtney asks Melissa how the lamp situation ended up, and then Melissa proceeds to tell us a hilarious story about her kids knocking over a lamp. The kids were distraught, promising to rubber cement it back together and combine their allowances to try to replace the broken lamp.

“It was so sweet and I felt so bad, because what they didn’t know was that I bought the lamp at a garage sale for, like, five dollars when I was in college and spray painted it to hide the hideous ‘70s pattern that was on it originally!”

We all laugh and she says, “I’ve kept it out of sentiment, but it didn’t ever really
mean
anything to me. All my kids had somehow concocted a story about how it was a family heirloom. They really thought they had broken my heart by breaking that lamp.”

“That’s my fault,” Jax says. “To keep them from roughhousing in the living room, I told them all that the lamp was priceless and that you’d be very upset if they were to break it.”

“Jax!” she says, her eyes wide with surprise, though she’s smiling.

“It worked. At least, for a while.”

We all laugh again, and the appetizers are brought to the table. Everything smells great and I’m shocked to find that escargot isn’t bad at all. Mostly it tastes like butter and garlic. Courtney takes a little of each appetizer, and I’m so glad to see her eating that it makes everything taste that much better.

We continue through the dinner course, chatting and eating and having such a great time together that I’ve completely forgotten that this is not just dinner, but a publicity opportunity. It actually surprises me when the same photographer from the airport shows up and begins snapping photos of us, right there in the middle of the restaurant.

Courtney immediately places her fork on her salad plate and straightens her posture. I rest my arm on the back of her chair, rubbing the middle of her back, hoping that that will help calm her nerves.

Melissa and Jax take the photographer in stride. They don’t even look at him or break conversation or anything. They continue as if nothing at all is happening.

When the photographer leaves after a few minutes, Courtney excuses herself to the restroom. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Melissa seizes the opportunity and says, “Is everything okay with her?”

I know exactly what she means, but I decide to spin the question so that I don’t have to share my suspicions with someone who isn’t family.

“We’re doing okay with all of this,” I say. “I was a little worried that she would show up and we’d end up having a big fight now that we’re able to talk about everything face-to-face, but we’re going to pull through this.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Melissa says. “But you know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

I look over to Jax and he says, “I know that we don’t know Courtney that well, but it seems like there’s been a change in her since the first time we met her at the barbecue.”

I nod, but have no idea what to say.

“If she needs anything, please let me know,” Melissa says.

I smile and nod again. “Thanks, Melissa. That’s really sweet of you.”

Her eyes shift to over my shoulder and I figure that means that Courtney is on her way back to the table. Melissa smoothly changes the topic back to tomorrow’s game.

Jax and I talk about our chances against the Seahawks defense—in very quiet voices and in very vague terms, lest there be a spy in our midst.

Suddenly Courtney asks, “How is Brooks doing?”

“He’s on the mend,” Jax says. “It’s going to be a long road of recovery for him, but he’s doing okay. Playing a lot of
Grand Theft Auto
right now, from what I understand.”

Everyone laughs at that, and luckily the waiter comes back with dessert menus before an awkward silence can set in.

“We don’t need to see them,” Jax says. “We’ll have four crème brûlées.”

“Oh,” Courtney says. “I’m okay without one. I can just take a few bites of Adam’s.”

“Like hell you will,” I say playfully.

“That’s what I figured,” Jax says to us before looking at the waiter and saying, “Four, please.”

“Oui, monsieur.”

Courtney looks thoroughly put out for a moment, but then Melissa asks her how school is going and she tells us all about her kinesiology classes.

“I had no idea that’s what you were studying,” Jax says, and Courtney nods. “That’s really great. Are you hoping to work with professional athletes?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she says. “I’m hoping to intern with several different types of clinics and see what I like best.”

“That’s fantastic,” Melissa says. “If you need any recommendations of clinics in the area, I’m really plugged in to the medical community here.”

“Thanks,” Courtney says. “I’ll start really looking in earnest in a few months. And actually, I need to look into programs in the area since I’ll be transferring schools next year.”

“Oh, are you?” Melissa asks, and Courtney fills her in on the details of our wedding.

“Exciting times for you,” Jax says.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s kind of insane how much has changed in just a year.”

“Wait until you have kids. It gets even more insane then.”

“One thing at a time, Montgomery,” I say wryly, and he laughs.

“Of course. Y’all are young. You have plenty of time before you start thinking about any of that.”

“Definitely,” I say.

The crème brûlées show up and even though I notice that Courtney takes a deep breath before taking her first bite, she does eat it. All of it.

When dessert is cleared, the waiter brings the bill, and, as instructed by Amanda, I let Jax pay, hoping that he really did use the team’s card but figuring that he probably didn’t, especially if the dinner was his and Melissa’s idea in the first place. When the check is settled, Courtney and I both thank the Montgomerys for dinner and the company.

As we wait outside for our cars, the valet brings Jax’s Range Rover around before my Jeep, and Jax says, “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Kistler. Courtney, it was lovely to see you, as always. You two have a good night.”

Melissa and Courtney hug and I see Melissa give her a little squeeze before letting go. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the game. Good night, both of you!”

When we get back to my apartment from dinner, I immediately change out of my suit and into much more comfortable clothes. When I go back out into the living room, Courtney is sitting on the couch, looking straight ahead.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says. “I just feel gross.”

“Like, sick?”

“Sort of. I think I ate too much.”

I have to exert all of my own will to keep from telling her that’s bullshit. She hardly ate at all! One bite of each appetizer, a beet salad that she didn’t finish, and a crème brûlée.

But then I decide that I shouldn’t avoid this conversation.

“Courtney, you barely ate anything.”

“I ate a lot,” she says, looking at me as if I’m crazy.

“Look,” I say. “I don’t know how you’ve been dieting because I don’t get to see you every day, but if you’re starving yourself and I see that that’s what’s going on, I’m going to say something. I have to say something. I love you too much to let you hurt yourself.”

“I’m not hurting myself,” she says, her voice loud and with an edge. “I’m making myself healthier. Better. For
you
.”

I furrow my brow, trying to understand how refusing to eat is the same as being healthy.

“You’d never understand,” she says. “You have no idea what the pressure is like for a woman. It’s so much easier for guys—be fit, be buff, eat more bacon. And when you do gain some weight, it’s easy to work it off. But for women? It’s
so
hard.”

“Courtney,” I say quietly. “I want you to be healthy. But you’ve always looked beautiful to me. Is there something else that is making you feel as if you need to look different?”

Her eyes bulge as if she can’t believe I’ve just asked her that question. “You’ll never get it,” she says, standing and making a move toward the bathroom. I block her path.

“Get out of my way, Adam.”

“We’re not finished with our conversation.”

“Yes, we are,” she says. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”

“Courtney, just tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s everything,” she yells. “You left and my brothers left and I had nothing to do but eat and talk to my mom about planning a wedding I wasn’t ready to plan and try to figure out if I’m ready to have sex with you all summer, and then I come down here and meet all the gorgeous women the other players are with and realize that I’m not up to par. That I need to look better so that you’ll want me. That I have to change.

“So I started working out and eating better. When I started losing weight, I felt better. Healthier. More confident. Ready to plan the wedding. So why wouldn’t I want to keep feeling that way?”

I’m speechless. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that. Especially the part about sex. I’ve told her time and time again that I’ll wait. That I’m okay with the fact that she isn’t ready.

“See?” she asks. “You can’t tell me why my losing weight is a bad thing.”

“You have to know that you’ve gone too far with things now,” I say, finally finding my voice.

She sighs and says, “Maybe. But it’s not my fault we’re being followed by photographers.”

She said it quietly, but the force of her words hits me fully in the chest. As if she punched me in the heart.

“Low blow, Court,” I say. “You can’t blame this on me.”

“Not all of it,” she says. “But I really am fine. I know what I’m doing. I’m in control.”

With that, she pushes past me and heads into the bathroom. I can’t help but think that maybe she’s going to do something drastic so I stand and listen at the door to see if that’s what’s going on with her.

I hear the shower turn on and consider standing there until it turns off. But, if she were forcing herself to throw up, I’m not sure I’d hear it over the sound of the water. Sighing, I sink down onto the couch, completely worried about Courtney.