Britt and I went to a tattoo shop the night before his first game, and I had a football with the number five tattooed along my bikini line. Only Britt knows it’s there. Nick never saw it, he only wanted to have sex in the dark, and he was never going below my belly button anyway because he was a selfish ‘wam bam minute’ man.
Thankfully, Britt always kept my secret, both of them. She always knew I was secretly in love with her brother. When I couldn’t even admit it to myself, let alone her, and certainly not out loud; she never mentioned the tattoo to anyone.
She’s a real ride or die bitch.
Jackson continues. “And I’m hoping you know I didn’t get said tattoo by kidnapping a tattoo artist and bringing them to my hotel suite. I didn’t lock them in until they gave me the tattoo for free and I certainly didn’t get wasted and trash my room, either.” More lies, more stories. Anything to sell a good article.
“Wow. Jackson, I’m sorry. I knew that story of trashing the room was fabricated. But the tattoo… it’s such an invasion of privacy. All those women…”
I can’t even continue because I don’t want to think about all those women. Besides, aren’t I one of those women? I did it to take a piece of him with me, too, when he didn’t belong to me.I take a deep breath and our eyes meet. It’s now or never.
“Okay, so girlfriend and boyfriend. You think doing this is going to change things?”
“I do.”
I grin. “This is crazy.”
He grins too. “It is. But if anyone understands the way PR works and the life of a famous athlete, it’s you. That’s why I knew I could come to you. You’d either see it the way I see it, a chance to correct things, or you’d tell me I’m an asshole and to get off your couch.”
I laugh out loud this time. “I’ll still probably call you an asshole here and there.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Noches.”
I smile and grab our now empty glasses and head to the kitchen to put them in the dishwasher.
“Sorry, that got kind of heavy. After years of being away from you, I just needed you to understand I’m not as bad as what they made me out to be.”
I turn and lean back on the sink, but when his eyes wander, I cross my arms and clear my throat. “Eyes up here, superstar.”
He drops his head and chuckles.“Sorry, some habits are hard to break.”
“I want to think on this, play out all scenarios. And then the biggest one of all—Adam. Even if he knows this isn’t real, I don’t know how he’ll feel about it.”
“I know. I’m not out to hurt anyone. I’ve done enough of that.” He turns and heads to the door. “Thanks for listening tonight, Chessy. Come find me when you’ve thought it through.” And without a crude or sarcastic comment, he closes the door behind him and heads home.
I flop back onto the couch, letting out a huge breath. I already know I’m going to say yes because any way I can get closer to Jackson, I will. Any time he’ll give me, I’ll take it because I’m a glutton for punishment.
Chapter 8
Jackson
Ididn’t sleep last night, and it wasn’t because I was out partying.
I did it; I asked her. I imagined that, at one point, we would have balanced each other out if it were allowed. Both of us are good. Sweet. Me, a little wild and her, a little tame, and together we’d balance each other out. But I never pushed for it, instead pushing her away in order to keep Adam.
But now I was jaded. Scarred. And she was still good, light.
I was bitter. Mad at the world for getting hurt. Having my dreams robbed.
But wasn’t I the thief? I partied. I took my opportunity for granted. Took my body for granted. And look where it got me. Hurt, released and alone. I was missing the action of the game, the intensity of football.Coaching the high school boys helped, but I still felt empty.
Losing my mom while in the middle of the season only pushed me harder over the edge.
I spent the night tossing and turning, imagining Chess under me. Over me. Everywhere on me. Now I’m paying for it. Well, the team is paying for it. I’m making the boys run sprints. Because I can. Yes, I’m an asshole.
“Alright, that’s enough! Get water!”
The boys struggle to the sidelines and fill their cups. The coachesand I are standing around discussing the new play I came up with when one of the boys wolf whistles.
