SPIKED (A Sports Romance) (19 page)

“Jacob, come on,” I said quietly. “It’s too complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Jacob answered, still speaking at full volume. He
wanted
everyone to hear this exchange. “Yeah, I’ll admit— and I think you know this— at first, I wanted you because it was such a crazy challenge when you
didn’t
respond to me. But then you became all I could think about. Football used to be my life, Sasha, and when it was gone, you were all I had. Now I’ve got football back and as it turns out, it’s not enough anymore. If I don’t have you, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that really matters to me is having you in my life again.”

Now the room gasped; I saw a few people had pulled out their cell phones and were taping the entire exchange. I hunted for words, but could find none, though I felt my eyes growing watery as I finally let my eyes lock on Jacob’s.

He kept talking. “When I was getting carted off in that ambulance after the Clemson game, everyone was talking about how maybe my career was over, but all I was thinking about was how sad I was that you weren’t there that day to watch me play. When Adams and Piper released that pathetic video, all I could think about was how you must have felt watching it.” He took a deep breath, then let it out. “And the NFL draft is coming up. That’s what I’ve spent my entire life waiting for. But all I could think about when I woke up today is how I haven’t kissed you in way too long. But I was trying to let go, because I thought maybe I wasn’t the right guy for you, like you told me the last time we were together.” He stared at me for a moment before continuing. “Except I realized today that I am the right guy for you, whether you know it or not. And I’m ready to prove it to you. So I’m not going to wait till tonight, or tomorrow, or the weekend to say this to you. I’m in love with you, Sasha, and…” he rubbed the back of his head and laughed a little, “that is particularly insane, given that you’ve never even been to a football game.”

“Seriously?” the professor asked.

“Seriously,” Jacob said, then turned back to me.

I was crying now, even though I was fairly certain it was making me look snotty and red-cheeked and generally unattractive.

He said he loves me. In front of everyone.

Jacob was watching me with stars in his eyes. He offered me his hand; I wiped the tears from my face, then accepted it, and rose to stand in front of him. He looked more confident now, that cocky expression spreading along his cheekbones— and it was a welcome look.

“Alright,” I said, shaking my head, laughing, crying, disbelieving. “Alright, alright.”

“Alright what?” Jacob asked teasingly.

“Alright to everything,” I answered, and Jacob laughed in a loud, full way, then pulled me toward him, wrapping me in his arms, lifting me off the ground, and pressing his lips to mine. My classmates whistled and gasped and cheered but the sound didn’t matter— all that mattered, in that moment, was the feeling of being in Jacob’s arms again. The feeling of being with him again. The feeling of knowing that we were going to try, at least, to make this work.

“Hey,” he whispered against my mouth. “I’m dying here.”

“What?” I asked, confused, leaning forward to kiss him again.

He met my lips, then said, “I sort of just told you I love you, and I’m dying waiting to hear it back.
If
I’m going to hear it back.”

I laughed, pointed my toes at the floor— he had me lifted at least a foot off the ground, and the feeling of my toes dangling made me feel weightless and perfect and protected in the best of ways. I pressed my lips against his cheek, then whispered in his ear.

“I’m in love with you too.”

“
A
s you can see here
, we’re at home with Jacob Everett, who we believed will be selected in this seventh round of the draft,” the sportscaster said— though the monitor was low, so I could just barely hear the words. Jacob was sitting beside me, cell phone in his right palm, my hand in his left.

I could feel his pulse racing, it was so strong.

“He’s there with some of his Harton coaches, you see his parents in the background and a few teammates. Right beside him, there, that’s his girlfriend Sasha, known around the campus as the beauty who tamed the beast— apparently Jacob was quite the ladies man before he met her!” one of the other sportscasters said, grinning at the prospect.

“Definitely a full house there— are they at home?”

“I believe that’s the apartment he shares with his girlfriend, yes— and oh! Looks like he’s getting a call now,” the announcer said.

The cameras were trained on us as all of this was said, and it hit me that a lot of people were watching us. Live. Right then and there.

Indeed, Jacob’s phone was trilling in his hand. He stared at the unknown number for a moment, the looked at me. His eyes were wavering, overwhelmed. Terrified.

“Answer it,” I said breathlessly. The room was silent— though I could hear the eager crying of Jacob’s mother behind us. A lifetime of practices, of training, of work, all leading up to this moment.

Jacob lifted the phone to his ear. It was clear he was trembling, a fact that the cameramen who had been stationed in our apartment all morning zoomed in on— I saw the image grow larger on the nearby monitor. I watched Jacob’s eyes as they grew wider, watched his mouth as it twisted into a smile and sob and relief all at once. I was grinning in the biggest, stupidest way but couldn’t stop myself— it was happening. Everything Jacob had ever worked for was happening.

“Yes sir,” Jacob said into the phone. “I’d be honored, sir.”

The coaches behind us began patting one another on the back, shaking hands; I saw Mr. and Mrs. Everett embrace tightly and my heart actually went out to them, I felt their joy so acutely.

I thought about how quickly and definitively Jacob had shut his parents down the last time they’d tried to undermine our relationship. It was months ago now, but I could still remember how his mother had made yet another comment about Jenna in front of me, and this time Jacob hadn’t let it go.

He’d told both his parents in no uncertain terms that he loved me, that he and Jenna were just friends, and that if his folks continued to be anything other than generous and kind to me, they’d be buying their own tickets to whatever games he played in the future.

The message must have been received loud and clear, because from that day on, Mr. and Mrs. Everett had been nothing but gracious and warm to me. Sure, it was going to take a lot of time for me to truly forget the way they’d treated me in the beginning, but I knew time would heal the old wounds eventually.

As it was, I’d been so consumed with moving in together, building a life together, being with the man of my dreams—the last thing I even thought about these days was the few times Jacob’s mother had said something rude to me.

I came back to the present as his mother actually gave me a smile and I returned it, marveling at the way the world worked sometimes.

Sometimes, it turned out, things actually got better and not worse.

Sometimes the good guys really did win. I looked at Jacob as he continued to listen to whatever was being said on the phone. The biggest moment of his athletic career had arrived and it felt so incredibly intense, my heart was pounding.

The phone call took less than a minute— an insanely short amount of time, really— and when Jacob finally lowered his cell, he looked shaken. I wrapped my arms around him and he leaned against me, his chest shaking, his breath hard and fast. The room cheered, someone unmuted the television and ESPN music flooded our living room.

“It’s real,” Jacob said in my ear. He stood up, pulling me along with him, hugging me tightly. “I’m a pro football player. This is really happening.”

“I’m so proud of you,” I said back, and he kissed me, again and again and again.

I looked into his eyes. “Where are you even going to be playing?”

He grinned broader. “Atlanta. You think I’d move away from you?”

I laughed. “I could have changed schools, you know.”

“I’d never ask you to do that,” Jacob said seriously, then kissed me again. “You never ask someone you love to give up their dreams.”

I ran my fingers along the nape of his neck, smiling at him, not caring at all that the cameras were catching every moment, that the room was full of people, that this clip would likely be re-aired time and time again on news stations. Not caring one bit that I, a girl who once upon a time hadn’t been to a single football game and was devoted to school, was in love with a NFL quarterback who’d barely attended class.

And he was in love with me.

Love, after all, didn’t give up when things got difficult
, I thought, and kissed him again and again and again.

“
I
hate my boobs
,” I said, turning sideways as I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror. “And these lights are really unforgiving.”

Annie, my best friend, swatted my arm. “Shut up, Taryn. I’d kill for your boobs. I couldn’t even get that dress over my chest.”

I grinned, giving up at adjusting my new sleeveless dress. The plunging neckline didn’t allow for a bra, and I felt a little weird about it. “I can’t believe you talked me into buying this thing. I regret it already.”

“It’s hot and you’ll never find another Karen Millen for forty bucks again,” Annie said, flopping down on her bed amidst a pile of shopping bags and new clothing. “One of us had to buy it, and it wasn’t my size.”

It was hardly my size. The dress barely covered my backside, and my boobs were trying to make a quick escape. “I’m putting my jeans back on,” I said, crossing the tiny studio apartment she called home.

“No way.“ She barreled across the room, blocking the bathroom door. “We’re going out, Taryn.”

She was only 5’2, but staring me down, her arms crossed, she looked like she could lead an army to war. She was actually a rec leader for the city, and I could easily picture a field full of soccer kids jumping exactly as high as she commanded.

I pursed my lips, trying to meet her steely gaze with the same fierce determination, but I failed and laughed instead. “Come on, Annie. I can go out in jeans.”

“Uh-Uh. No way. I know you,” she said, poking my shoulder. “You’re going to hang up that dress and it’s never going to be seen again. Thirty years from now I’ll be cleaning out your closet because you died of boredom, and there it will be, the tags still attached.”

I snorted. “Maybe you could still return it. At the rate my career’s going, it might be the crowning jewel of my estate.”

I reached around her for the bathroom door, but she slid over. “I’m serious. Let’s go out. I want a drink, and you look too hot to stay home.”

I waffled. Maybe a drink wouldn’t hurt. And then I could bury this dress in the back of my closet, guilt-free because I wore it in public one whole time.

She wiggled her eyebrows at me, grinning like she knew she’d won. “First one is on me.”

I sighed. There was no arguing with Annie once she had her mind set on something. “Fine, but it’s going to take at least two to get comfortable in this thing, and I’m borrowing your silver heels.”

* * *

“
I
s
it always this dark in here?” I asked, squinting across the room. We were in a horseshoe shaped leather booth, nursing mojitos that glowed faintly under the dim light of the chandelier.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been in here.” She glanced around, her hand sliding across the buttery leather of the seat. “A girl at work was raving about it. She’s from New York so I figured she knew a good lounge when she found it.”

“I didn’t even know Orting had a place this nice,” I said. “Or people who would frequent a place this nice, for that matter.”

Annie grinned wickedly. “Don’t be such a snob. Two years at UW, and now you’re a city girl, too good for Orting? What will the fighting Cardinals do without your support?”

I faked a laugh at her joke, as if it didn’t needle beneath my skin.

Two years away at UW. Not four. I should’ve been graduating the next spring, but instead I was in a clearance dress in the only fine dining establishment in all of Orting, Washington. A tiny little farming valley, our only claim to fame was that if Mt. Rainier ever blew up we’d all be dead. The town was built over an ancient mudflow. Perfect for farming. The town had basically one road in, and one road out, on either end of the valley.

I was pretty sure it was made to trap people. But not in a volcano sort of way, in a more figurative one. We were just isolated enough that people forgot to dream of taking on the world, of traveling, of accomplishing something outside of this place.

“Ugh, you’re getting that look again,” Annie said, frowning.

I blinked. “What look?”

“The whole ‘woe is me, I should be a nuclear physicist by now,’” she said, twirling the straw in her drink.

I gave her an entirely different sort of look. “Chemist,” I said.

“The only chemistry you need to be worried about is the kind you have with that bartender,” she said, nodding to the guy behind the counter. “He’s been staring directly at your rack. You might as well have a homing beacon in that dress.”

I glanced over my shoulder, taking in the tall blond behind the bar. His white dress shirt and maroon vest did fit nicely across his shoulders. “He’s been staring at
you
,” I said. “He totally brushed your hand when he brought us our drinks.”

He was a little too lanky and a lot too smiley for my taste. He was like a shiny Disney prince or something. “You should definitely go for it,” I told her. “He’s cute.”

“Nah, I think we should sample the options before committing.”

I raised a brow and gestured around the room. “In case you didn’t notice, this place is dead.”

“Only out here.” She nodded over my head, where a curtain was drawn halfway across a wide entry. Voices hummed, laughter trickling out over our booth. I twisted around to get a better view, but the curtain blocked most of it. Judging by the sliver I could see, at least fifty people were back there.

I turned back to Annie. “You wanna crash?”

“Let’s just check it out,” she said, lighting up. “You’re all dressed up, might as well find somewhere to go. It’ll be like old times. Please?”

“Old times” being our high school habit of crashing parties we were never invited to, because we were too far down the social ladder.

Half the time, they were my brother’s parties. Not that it mattered; I still wasn’t invited.

Annie and I had quickly learned the two-fold key points to successful party crashing: 1) There has to be enough people that you can get lost in a crowd. And 2) You always, always act like you belong.

Maybe it was the drink talking, or the dress, or the delicious aroma of whatever food they had laid out in back, but I was suddenly feeling bold. I sucked down the rest of my drink, warmth unfurling inside. “Fine. Yeah. Let’s do it. But I’m going to need another drink.”

Annie squealed and slid out of the booth, following me up to the bar. It was red, lit from below so it glowed. The place reminded me of a movie theater.

The bartender, having predicted what we’d want, slid two new drinks toward us. He winked at Annie and she giggled. I resisted the urge to tell her once again how he was totally into her.

“Thanks,” I said, picking up mine and sucking down half of it before following Annie toward the back. She met my eyes and clinked her glance to mine, as if to say
here goes nothing,
before stepping past the privacy curtain.

The back room was larger than I expected, with at least a dozen tables, plus the buffet set up against one wall. Groups of well-dressed people circled around tall tables, meant for standing and small talk.

Good. Rule number one covered—there were enough people that we could blend in.

“They have bacon-wrapped water chestnuts,” Annie murmured, dragging me over to the spread of food. “Have you ever had these before? They’re SO good!”

I elbowed her. “Shh,” I said.

“Right, right.” She glanced over her shoulder, way too conspicuous. “It’s been a long time since we’ve done this. Sorry.”

We grabbed a small plate each, moving down the line and piling them high with snacks. I discreetly checked to see if anyone noticed—or cared—that two girls just showed up to pillage their food.

“I wonder what this is for,” I whispered under my breath. “Everyone’s so dressed up.”

It was a good thing Annie talked me into wearing the dress, because my jeans would’ve gotten us kicked out of here in thirty seconds.

“Let’s snag that table,” Annie said, dragging me over to a booth in the corner. I slid around the curved leather seat, taking in the room in full as I bit into a stuffed mushroom.

“Oh my god this is so good,” Annie said. “It tastes like heaven.”

“It tastes like money,” I said, growing curious. The cheese was sharp and smoky, the mushroom drizzled in truffle oil.

“Well that’s not tacky,” she said, giggling.

“I just mean… it makes me wonder what kind of event this is. A little high-brow for Orting, don’t you think?

Her curiosity finally piqued, she scanned the room. “It does seem kinda fancy. Let’s play a game…. We each get one guess as to what this little shindig is all about.”

I leaned back in the booth, crossing my legs at the ankle. “Alright. And how do we know who’s right?”

“I’ll wait until we’re ready to go and then asked someone. Now let’s see… Hmmm, suits, but no ties, so nothing too stuffy. Not enough black to be a funeral reception.”

“Thank god,” I said drily. I turned to the room, taking in its occupants. “Looks like some kind of work function to me.”

She leaned forward on her elbows, studying the room. “How can you tell?”

“Doesn’t really look like anyone came as a couple.” I scoot over, so Annie and I are hip to hip. “See? No one is leaning into one another, no one has their arms around each other. These people look like colleagues or something.”

She nods, sipping at her drink as she scans the people in the room. “Good call. So not a rehearsal dinner or engagement party, then. Some kind of business thing.”

We fell silent, scanning the room for clues. “Hey… isn’t that the mayor?” I said, nodding toward a tall, elegant woman in a smart black dress and pearls. “I mean I don’t know her, but it looks like the billboard.”

“Oh, actually, I think you’re right. And that guy standing next to her is Earl Thomas,” she said.

I recognized the founder of Thomas International, a nationwide shipping company. They employed half the town.

“Okay, so definitely a business function,” I said, warming up to the challenge. I was Nancy Drew, piecing together the clues. Better than a night stuck at home, playing scrabble with my brother and dad, anyway. “Alright then. If I had to guess what they were celebrating, I’d go with—”

“The launch of Prestige Sports Medicine Center,” came a voice from behind us.

I stiffened, the honey-toned voice washing over me. It couldn’t be. He hadn’t been back in years. There was no way…

“Landon,” Annie said, darting me a look. “Long time no… uh, talk.”

I closed my eyes, raking in a deep, steadying breath and wishing I’d had about six more drinks. Maybe then my heart wouldn’t be hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears. Maybe then, I wouldn’t want to stand up, stare him straight in the eyes, and slap the hell out of him.

Instead, I twisted in the booth, trying to act as unaffected a possible. “Landon,” I said coolly.

“Taryn,” he said back, the edges of his lips curling. The image of him, smiling down in that self-assured, almost arrogant way, slammed me back three years. To all the times he looked at me like that, to all the times I grinned back, flirting with the edge of danger, until the day I’d jumped right off.

And regretted that choice every day since.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I was doing my best to hide my shock. It was like trying to pretend that you didn’t notice the earthquake happening all around you—the tidal wave about to smash everything you knew to bits.

“I could have asked you the same thing,” he responded.

I narrowed my eyes. “I live here.”

He chuckled. “You live in a bar?”

Ugh, playing dumb did not suit this man, with his startling blue eyes that saw everything. He knew exactly what I meant.

“Not here,” I snapped. “I’m talking about Orting. You haven’t set foot in this town in three years, since--” I caught myself just I time, my mouth growing dry. “In three years,” I finished.

He gripped the edge of the table, leaning in until he was close.

Too close. Annie faded beside me, and I could only stare back, remembering the last time we looked at each other like this.

“And yet,” he said, as his lips curled into a wolfish grin, revealing his teeth. “Here I am.”

I swallowed, ignoring the rich scent of his cologne, something light years different than the stuff he used to wear. More… mature, just like the man standing in front of me, filling out the shoulders of his black sports jacket. “Why?” I managed to ask.

“I told you,” he said, standing upright again. “To celebrate the opening of the Prestige Sports Medicine Center.”

I finally was able to let the air rush back into my lungs, and my head cleared a tiny bit. I snorted. Tried to act nonchalant, like his proximity wasn’t effecting me.

Tried to treat him as the twenty-two year old who left me behind, and not like this man, who dressed too sharply to belong in this town. Tried to pretend he didn’t fill out his jacket in a way he had no right doing.

I crossed my arms, steeling myself against the feelings warring in my chest. “Why the hell do you care about a sports medicine center?”

His grin widened, turning smug. Whatever he was about to say, he was enjoying it, salivating over my reaction like it was going to be his next meal. Until that moment I’d forgotten his arrogance, forgotten the way he walked into every room as if he knew we’d all bow if only he asked.