Grid Iron Bad Boy: A Football Romance (40 page)

M
ack pulls
up to the Colorado Golf Club and brings his motorcycle to a stop. I thought seeing him on the back of the Harley was hot, it was practically orgasmic to be on there with him. I never realized that I could be so terrified and turned on at the same time.

He helps me down from the seat and I quickly smooth out the bunched up dress that I transformed into a makeshift pair of pants between my legs. I pop the helmet off my head and hope that it hasn’t messed up my hair too badly.

“You look stunning,” Mack murmurs, pulling me close. My self-consciousness evaporates as he wraps his strong arms around me. It’s impossible to feel insecure when a man like Mack Forrester looks at you like that. His lips cover mine with a tender kiss. Prickles of desire cover my skin as I melt into his tight embrace.

I know that Mack put a lot of thought and time into tonight, that’s already clear. However, I’m just kinda wishing he’d saved himself the trouble and just booked us a hotel instead.

Five minutes without oxygen would be easier than two months without Mack. Every cell in my body craves him.

Needs him.

Screams his name.

He releases my lips from his tantalizing kiss and my eyelids flutter back open. “Are you ready?” His eyes sparkle.

“Since you still haven’t told me what you’ve got cooked up in there, I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” My lips twitch up into a smile and betrays my complaining. He knows full well that I’m loving this.

“All will be revealed soon,” he teases me dramatically and holds out his arm to me. I cling onto it for dear life. Ok, maybe not for the sake of my life, but certainly for the sake of my ankles.

Damn Chelsea and her love of stilettos. I swear she must have worked the pole in another life. If it was in this one, I don’t wanna know.

Safe on Mack’s arm, I let him guide me to the door I haven’t stepped through for a decade. I blink my eyes to adjust to the darkened room we step into.

“Oh, Mack!”

It’s the only words I can squeak out. I feel like we just walked into a dream. From the ceiling are the same clusters of teal, silver and white balloons, hanging like magical clouds. Draped over the walls is the same silky fabric that I remember from our prom night. Right down to the streamers and the “Congratulations to the Class of 2004!” sign hanging on the back wall, everything looks the same.

There are three ways this could have happened. This country club may have been sporting this décor for ten years. I’ve stepped into a time warp. Or, Mack has spent countless hours recreating every detail of our last night together before both our lives changed forever.

I manage to close my mouth and smile at the most incredible man I’ve ever known. “It’s amazing, Mack!” I lean my head against his arm and look over all the hard work and thought he’s put into making this re-imagined prom.

“This is just a room. You, on the other hand, now that’s what I call amazing,” he guides me to the only table and chairs set up across the room.

Being every bit the prince charming that I wished for ten years ago, he pulls my seat out and helps me tuck into the table. I’ve gotta admit, I’m enjoying the princess treatment. I just hope Mack isn’t such a gentleman later. When I rip that tux off his hard body and fuck his brains out.

Mack takes his seat across from me and reaches for my hand across the table. “I missed you,” his eyes search my face. I’m sure he can read every emotion on my face like words in a book.

“I missed you too. So much. I know it was for the best and that you needed that time to work on everything, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hard,” my eyes mist over.

“Hey, don’t cry. I’m here now,” he traces his thumb along my bottom lid and gathers the tears threatening to ruin my makeup.

“It was hard for me too,” his blue eyes stare into mine earnestly. “But, now I know I can give you all of me, not just fragments left over from the war. I’m not saying I’m perfect. I mean, I’m pretty close, obviously,” he teases me.

“You are.” I know he’s kidding around, but I’m not.

Mack smiles. “Thank you. Too bad I didn’t record that. It would’ve been perfect for six months from now when you’re giving me a hard time about leaving the toilet seat up or something.”

The reference doesn’t escape me. My heart soars as I digest his words. He wasn’t us to live together? Before I can respond, a waiter interrupts our chat with a bottle of champagne and two glasses on a tray.

“May I start your evening with a drink?” He offers.

“Yes, thank you,” Mack nods. The man places the glasses between us and then reaches for the bottle.

“You can just leave the bottle with us. We have a lot to celebrate,” Mack grins.

Our server doesn’t argue; he simply places it between us. “Your dinner will be ready shortly,” he informs Mack before disappearing back over my shoulder.

I shouldn’t be surprised that Mack also had our prom for two catered, but I am. Just like the man who just walked across the floor to the set up the turntables in the back corner shouldn’t surprise me either, but here we are.

Soft music floods the sound system and Mack pours each of us a glass of the bubbly champagne. He lifts his glass in a toast, and I imitate him, eager to hear what he has to say.

“Lauren, you look just as beautiful tonight as you did a decade ago. I was the luckiest man at our prom then, and you’ve made me the luckiest man in the world tonight by being on my arm.”

“Thank you,” I don’t know what else to say, Mack’s never been one for flowery speeches, but I guess he’s just full of surprises tonight.

“No, thank you.” He answers. “I figured that there was no better place to ask for a mulligan than at a golf club, so…”

“A mulligan?” I interrupt. I’m not sure what he’s talking about.

“Yeah, it’s a golf term. It’s for a do over? You’ve never heard that before?” His eyes crinkle at the corners, “look, all you need to know is that besides being incredibly handsome, I’m also very witty,” he laughs.

“And humble, too,” I tease him.

“Yes, humble as fuck,” he grins. There’s my old Mack. “Anyway, to new beginnings,” he raises his glass higher and I raise mine.

The first sip of the champagne is heaven; the tiny bubbles tickle my lips but feel smooth on my tongue.

Mack empties his glass in one long gulp, then takes a deep breath. “Lauren?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you dance with me?”

My ears are ringing with shock. Never in my entire life has Mack danced with me. Never. No matter how much I’ve pleaded, or whined, or threatened him with teenaged angst. He’s never given in.

“Of course,” I barely breathe the words, like they’re caught in my throat.

He stands up and holds his hand out to me, and I steady myself with his strength and follow him to the dance floor. The music suddenly changes to Coldplay.

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh, let's go back to the start

Perfect. Absolutely perfect song with my absolutely perfect man. This couldn’t possibly get any better. Mack holds my waist and dances with all of the grace of a middle school boy, but it’s so charming, I just love him even more for his lack of skill.

I lean my head against his chest and breathe him in. “Thank you for this Mack. For all of this. I, well, I don’t even know what to say except that it’s magical.”

Tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh, and I rush to the start
Running in circles
Chasing our tails
Coming back as we are

“That’s appropriate,” he chuckles and I look up at him.

“Why’s that?”

“Didn’t our first prom have a princess theme or something?” He looks down at me.

“Yeah, well, the theme was fairy tales. So, yeah, it’s fitting that tonight is magical,” I smile back.

“Well, what’s a fairy tale without a happy ending?” Mack stops our dance and looks me straight in the eyes. I think he’s going to kiss me, my lips are already pushed up into a pout and instead he slides down onto his good leg, kneeling before me.

He lets go of my hand and reaches into his tuxedo jacket, pulling out the familiar velvet box that held the engagement ring he gave me on the Ferris wheel. It isn’t just familiar because of his proposal. It’s because ever since he walked out of my car at the police station that ring has been sitting on my bedside table in that very box.

“How did you get that?” I don’t mean to accuse him; I’m just surprised to see it back in his hand.

He lifts the lid, and sure enough, it’s the same ring. “Chelsea snuck it into my pocket before we left,” he smiles up at me, his eyes twinkling.

Of course she did. She’s so stealthy.

“Lauren, will you give me the chance to start over with you? To fulfill the destiny, I’ve known was mine since I was six years old? Will you become my wife?”

In my mind, I can still see his round face at six. His sweet smile that transformed into his irresistible smirk over the years. “Yes, of course I will. Yes!” I hold out my trembling hand and Mack slips the ring back into place on my finger. I know in my heart that it will never be taken off again. What Mack and I have can never be destroyed. Fate has just pushed us back where we always belonged. In each other’s arms.

Mack stands back up and wraps his arms around me, his lips softly opening mine until our tongues finish this dance for us. In each other’s arms. It’s where we’ve always been, it’s where we’ll always be. Until death do us part.

Nobody said it was easy
Oh, it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I'm going back to the start.

I
love
how tight Lauren’s arms are wrapped around me as the buildings swirl past us in a streak of color. She pretends that she doesn’t like riding on my bike, but her little yelps of excitement tell a different story. She’s almost making the same noises I had her up until three in the morning making at the hotel last night. If the way she fucked me was any indication, I’d say my prom proposal was a success. And now, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s getting a little turned on by being on my bike. Sexy squeals don’t lie.

I turn onto Lauren’s street and the building instantly reform from the kaleidoscope of mercury sliding past us back into strong houses and buildings. Being on my motorcycle again feels good. Like it’s one more tick in the box of things I needed to feel whole again. Now that I’m in therapy, and Lauren has my ring back on her finger, there’s really only one more box left to tick off before I can feel like my life is back on track: Chris.

We talked about it for hours. Do we tell Chris that I’m his biological father? Does it matter? I was worried about him feeling like I’m taking Joel’s spot in his life. Lauren was pretty insistent that he wouldn’t see it that way. She knows better than I do. Since she’s gonna be my wife, I might as well get used to saying that.

Pulling into the driveway, I can see the curtains rustle in the living room. Sure enough, before I’ve even got my kickstand extended, Chris is at the front door with a huge grin.

“Hey Mom, hi Mack. How was your dance?”

I help Lauren off the back of the bike and watch as she takes off my helmet and shakes her beautiful hair back and forth, like a slow motion clip of some model from a commercial or something. Whatever she’s selling, I’ll take ten! Damn she’s beautiful. She’s beautiful, and she’s mine.

“Hey honey, it was great. Did you have fun with Chelsea?” She thrusts the helmet into my hands and makes her way into the house. I don’t mind though, the view of her walking away from me has always been my favorite.

I follow them inside and see that Chelsea has been busy maintaining her reputation as the world’s best aunt. Two pizza boxes with stale crusts inside are covering the coffee table. In front of them are two pillows on the floor with video game controllers on them. I’d say she’s holding onto the title for a while yet.

“Yeah, it was a blast. I totally kicked her ahhh….” Chris looks out of the corner of his eye at Lauren’s scowl forming. “Uh, butt. Yep. Kicked her butt at Mario Kart like a billion times.” He noticeably avoids eye contact with his mother, instead smiling at me.

“A billion might be a bit of an exaggeration, bud. Besides, I let you win, like ten of those races.” Chelsea walks down the stairs and joins us in the living room. She looks different with make-up on and her hair done up. I’d give her a second look if I didn’t already snag the prettiest girl in the room. Scratch that, in the state.

“Did not! You’re lying!” Chris defends his honor against his aunt’s jab. “Let’s have a rematch right now then. I’ll beat you again, fair and square.” He lunges for the controller on the floor and looks up at Chelsea expectantly.

“Sorry, kiddo. I’ve gotta run. Maybe if these two lovebirds had shown up a bit earlier, I would’ve had more time.” Chelsea looks at her watch and then at Lauren with a cocked eyebrow and a twinkle in her eye.

“Sorry, we took the long way home,” Lauren smirks. “Where are you in such a rush to get to? You gotta hot date or something?” Lauren tugs my hand and we sit down on the couch together.

“Yeah, scorching hot date,” Chelsea’s voice is flat. “I got called into work, pretty exciting huh? We can’t all have elaborate proposals, I guess.” Her eyes flicker down over her sister’s ring finger where my diamond ring sparkles bright against Lauren’s almond hand.

“Are you guys engaged?” Chris interrupts, putting down his controller. “Like for real this time? You’re gonna get married?” He stands up and looks at the ring, the huge smile he met us at the door with was a tiny smirk compared to his face now.

“That’s right,” Lauren’s eyes shine as she looks at him.

“Really? That’s great!” He hops from foot to foot and I can’t help but laugh.

“I’m glad you’re happy about it, man.” I chime in.

Chris’s grin fades slowly, and his eyes flicker over me quickly and then dart back to his mother. “Wait, so does this mean that Mack’s gonna be my father now?”

Everyone looks over at Lauren. Chris watches her attentively, my eyes glue to her face nervously, and Chelsea is practically boring holes in her face.

“I should, uh, I need to get to work. I’ll see ya around, ok?” Chelsea interrupts, rubbing her hand affectionately over her nephew’s hair.

Chris shrugs her off, but isn’t too cool to give her a quick hug. Those days are numbered. It won’t be long before Chris will cut us all off from his affection. Then all of his attention. If he’s half the asshole I was in my teen years, we’re in for a real treat.

Chelsea shoots one last look at Lauren before disappearing through the door. She should drag her judgy eyebrows back down over her eyes though, she doesn’t know that Lauren and I already discussed talking to Chris about this. We just thought it would come up on our terms. When the timing was right. No time like the present, I guess.

“Bye, Chelsea.” Lauren calls out to her sister as the door shuts behind her.

Chris’s eyes are still searching for an explanation on his mother’s face. I run my finger and thumb along the edge of my hand, he doesn’t look thrilled at the idea of me being his Dad. I can’t help but wonder… is this a mistake? Is Lauren about to spill the beans on something that Chris is still too young to really grasp?

“Come over here,” Lauren pats the couch and I scooch over to make some room so he can sit between us. Chris plops down on the sofa with all the grace of a belly flopping pig. “I figured you might have some questions about all of this, ok?” Her eyes trace the edges of his face before flickering over to mine. I can see that she’s nervous, but I know nerves aren’t about to stop her. “Before we get into all of that, well, just wait a sec, ok? There’s something I need to grab,” Lauren hops to her feet and vanishes from the room, leaving me and my son together in a fog of confusion.

Maybe her nerves are going to stop her.

I rub my hand over the back of my neck and look over at Chris. I can’t help but smile when I see him mirroring the same action back to me. Yep, he’s mine all right. Right down to our nervous tics.

“Hey, so are you still ok with your mother and I getting married? It’s ok if you need some time to think it over.” I finally cut through the silence.

“What? No, I mean, of course it’s ok. I’m glad you two are getting married. I just don’t know, like, are you my Dad now? Is that what I call you? I mean, I just don’t know…” our eyes both follow Lauren as she walks back into the room carrying a book under her arm.

“Ok, I found it,” she beams proudly. “I wanted to show you this,” she sits back down beside Chris and puts her yearbook on his lap. “You know how Mack and I went to a prom type dance yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Chris answers slowly, looking down at the retro in all the wrong ways book in his lap.

“Well, when I was in grade twelve, Mack took me to my original prom too,” she cracks the cover on the book and quickly flicks the pages past the signatures and orders from old friends to “never change!” to a picture that makes my heart ache.

There we are, front and center on the page. I’ve got two full legs and no tattoos, not to mention wrinkles or gray hairs. In the picture, my arms are wrapped around Lauren and she’s looking up at me with a love so pure it makes me hate myself for ever walking away from it.

Damn. She hasn’t changed a bit! Her skin still glows like she’s got her own professional photographer following her around with lighting, her smile still makes honey seem sour in comparison. She was perfect then. She’s perfect now. She’ll be perfect until the day we die.

“Mack took you to the prom?” Chris finally looks up from the picture and over to his mother.

“He did,” she flips the page to reveal more photographic evidence for him. “We were high school sweethearts. boyfriend and girlfriend. Before that, we were friends since we were six years old.” Her eyes glaze over as the nostalgia washes over her.

“I thought you met him at the hospital? You guys grew up together? That’s crazy!” Chris sounds awestruck. Better than angry.

“I hadn’t seen Mack since prom night. I did meet him again at the hospital,” she explains. As he listens, Chris flips through the book. Each page has new photographs revealing the truth about our history.

“Why didn’t you see each other after the prom?” He looks over at me accusingly. I deserve that look. My gut twinges with guilt as I answer to the son I never realized we made that night.

“As soon as we graduated, I went to West Point and joined the military. I had to go to New York for four years for school and then I did courses here and there. I never made it back here until now.”

“There’s something I need to tell you about our first prom though, Chris,” Lauren looks at him. “That night, Mack and I made a baby together.” She looks at him unblinking. Is she breathing? Am I? The room is a vacuum of silence. I swear I can hear the thoughts swirling around in his brain.

“You made a baby?” The words tumble from his mouth slowly, like he’s making sense of each one as he speaks it. “I…wait, I have a brother? Or a sister? Or…are they like a half-brother or half-sister?” He stares down at the book on his lap, like it’s going to reveal the identity of the mystery sibling he doesn’t have.

“No,” Lauren interrupts. “You don’t have any brothers or sisters, ok? You know that Joel adopted you when you were three, we talked about that, right?”

I watch as the realization strikes through his body like a lightening bolt. Chris sits straighter on the couch, throwing his shoulders back and stiffening. “Me?”

“That’s right,” I reassure him. I can’t tell from the flurry of emotions on his face how he’s feeling about this. It’s like watching the penny slots in Vegas swirl around as you wait for it to land on three cherries, or a total bust.

“So, you’re my Dad? Like, my real Dad?” His voice is barely hovering above a whisper and he doesn’t look straight at me.

“Joel was your real Dad. I’m your biological father. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be considered your real Dad too one day, but I haven’t earned the title yet. If you’re up for it, I’d like to try.” I explain.

“I, uh, that would be great.” He smiles, but I can see worry in his eyes as he furrows his brows. “So, did Dad know about Mack?” He asks Lauren. “And how come you never called me or anything before?” He looks back at me.

“Joel knew everything; I promise you that. He knew Mack in high school, we all graduated the same year. It was no secret to him that I had you with Mack.” Lauren runs her hand over Chris’s arm, but he tugs it away.

“Just a secret to me?” He pouts.

“I was always going to tell you, whether Mack and I met again or not. I just wanted to wait until you were old enough.” She answers.

Satisfied with his mother’s answer, his eyes snap back to me. Waiting. Searching. I clear my throat nervously.

“I didn’t call because your mother and I weren’t together anymore, and I was in the military. I knew I could never be in your life in a stable, meaningful way, like Joel was. I might have been wrong, but I didn’t want to add confusion to your life or take away from your father in any way. I hope you can forgive me. I know I can’t make up for the past, but I hope you’ll let me try to make new memories now.” The last thing I’m going to do is throw Lauren under the bus and put all this on her. She’s already dealt with so much. I’m not going to add her son feeling betrayed to the mix.

Chris looks back at the book in his lap. He studies the smiling faces of people he never met alongside pictures of us. Again, that silence. That noiseless void that roars in my ears louder than a jet plane engine. Finally, he picks up the book in his hands and pops off the couch to his feet.

Is he going to go to his room? I wouldn’t blame him if he needed some time to process all this. It was a lot for me to take in as a grown man. I can’t imagine how much harder it would be for a nine-year-old. He turns and looks down at me, his face as solemn as any Texas hold ‘em champ I’ve ever met. “Mack?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to come with me, please.”

I don’t question where or why. In my gut, I already know. I jump to my feet ready to follow. “You got it, Chris. Let’s go.”

C
hris
and I walk side-by-side wordlessly. I know where we’re going. I’ve walked this road before. Literally. It’s funny how during the day, with the sun shining, this path feels so different. Of course, not frantically looking for a run away child might have something to do with it too.

The gate is only a few yards away now, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention. Dread washes over me with every step we put between us and the entrance. It’s not because we told Chris about me being his biological father. It’s because the last time I was at Joel’s gravesite, I had a flashback that left me weak in the knees and my skin crawling.

As we approach the open entrance to the cemetery, I stop in my tracks. Deep breath. Ground yourself. I remember what I’ve been going over in therapy now for weeks. I need something to keep me in the present. Something physical.

“Hey, Chris! Wait up,” he hasn’t slowed his pace, still marching forward to Joel’s plot. He stops and turns toward me. Under his arm is the yearbook he left the house with.

“Yeah?” His face is a melting pot of emotions. It kills me to see him straining so hard to contain it all. I’m the last guy who should be giving advice on how to deal with feelings though.

“Um, are you going to need that book?” His eyes cloud with bewilderment. “The yearbook? In your hand?” Chris looks down to his hand like it’s a foreign object attached to his body. Recognition flashes over his face as he seems to remember that he’s carrying it.

“No, I don’t need it. You want it?” He holds it out to me.