Against the Rules (Even The Score #4)

58. willow

CHAPTER 58

WILLOW

BUT YOU'RE NOT, SO I CAN'T

The night of the captain voting ceremony, I did the most to connect with my mom and Dan, because Ryan’s acceptance speech was promised to be the longest speech in existence, and I wanted to use that as an opportunity to meet up with King.

"Do you want a mocktail, Willow?" my mom giggled.

"I’m good," I replied, amused. "I think you are too. With the actual cocktails."

I moved the glasses away, not that it did anything. She curled her finger towards one of the white-collar waiters to ask for a mai tai.

"Mom, let’s not."

"And a bourbon on the rocks!" Dan laughed.

Oh, god .

"Take a look at them over there." Dan pointed with two fingers at the table. The table. Where Ryan and Kassie were snapping at Adam for saying something, King was pretty obviously sighing, and Piper had her head in her hands, laughing. Dan nodded. "That’s my championship table right there. They’ll be the boys getting me the tickets."

It was like King could feel my gaze. He met mine. Wow, he looked so good in the suit. Just mouthwatering.

"I’ve known them since they were skinny high schoolers, now look at them."

I shot a surprised look at Dan’s way. "You knew King? Back then?"

"You’d have to hit me with a mallet to forget King. I wasn’t with Marrs but I worked with the Houston camps." Lawson scratched his beard. "Here comes this kid, big as an ox, sat by himself, and said nothing to nobody."

"What do you mean nothing?" my mom asked. "He had to have said something."

"Nope. Not a word. Tried myself a dozen times, might as well have been conversing with a block of cement. If you wanted to talk to King, you had to talk to his coach. Then we saw him play." Dan made a noise at the back of his throat. " He’s got real precision now, but it was still watching a bulldozer. Knocking the shit out of everybody. Then drills were done, and he’d go over to his chair, quiet as a church mouse."

My eyes flickered to King, sitting at the table, listening to Piper.

"I don’t know what’s going on with that kid," Dan said thoughtfully.

I hesitated. "What do you mean?"

"Well, look at him. He’s happy. I thought I knew a happy King. Guess I didn’t."

I ran my thumb along the rim of my empty glass, stealing another look at him as the host of the evening finally arrived, a hall of famer who sounded pretty loaded.

The perfect time to escape.

Slipping away from the table, I made my way to the line of champagne flutes in the back when someone took their place next to me.

Ollie Henderson leaned down enough to catch my eye. "Hi, Ms. Lawson."

"You don’t want to do this," I promised.

"I heard about the room mix-up. Seems like they thought it was me. Were you the one that put the rumor out there? Because if you did…"

"You seem very sweet."

"Thank you."

"But…" I touched my chest, "Coach’s stepdaughter."

"What he doesn’t know, won’t kill him."

"There’s always someone watching."

"Oh, you mean Lawson’s boys. They have to sleep sometime."

"You would think that but…" I twirled my fingers in the air.

Ollie glanced over his shoulder and jerked back so fast he spilled his glass of champagne on his suit. King stood behind him, silent.

I tried to warn him.

"Holy shit— " Ollie stuttered into a whisper while the speeches commenced on stage.

King didn’t say a word and I did my best to hold in my laughter. Watching him snap up from the table and stride over to Ollie, like a lion stalking his prey on Discovery Channel, was all the entertainment I needed for the night.

Ollie mumbled something then returned to his table.

I held my glass of water in the crook of my elbow and clapped with everyone else while Ryan was announced as offensive team captain.

King dipped down close. "Have you seen the view yet?"

He nodded towards the closed-off area stretching beyond the arches, hidden from the rest of the evening. I shook my head with a little smile and left with him, off to the railing that overlooked Austin, Texas.

"Wow," I whispered. "It’s so?—"

"You look even better."

I snuck a glance at him, looking all pleased with himself, but a little too close for anyone walking in. I found a hidden niche where I could stand and no one could see me, just King.

"You look good too," I whispered. "You should wear suits more often."

"I wear suits for professional events."

"You should wear nice clothes for me . Because if we go on a date, and I show up in a swing jacket and you have basketball shorts, I will make it everybody’s problem?—"

King laughed, which didn’t work, because I laughed and the two of us had to keep it down while Ryan started the second page of his speech.

"Okay, okay," he conceded. "Are we supposed to match?"

"That’s not a joke. That’s a requirement."

"Really?"

"You know my sparkly silver cowboy boots? Yours are coming Tuesday."

"How the hell am I supposed to walk in those?"

"Doesn’t matter. They’ll name you best dressed in the NFL and I’ll pick up that award myself."

More laughter we had to keep down. More shared smiles.

King slid a little closer. "I don’t want this to end in Austin."

"Yeah, I’d write a track that’d make Mean Motherfucker sound like a lullaby."

"I don’t want this to end with Boston either."

"King…I’m not going to Boston. I love my dad—and I know he’s disappointed—but I’m staying in Houston. It’s my final decision."

"You can still change your mind." King's dark eyes glistened into the night lights of the city. "I don’t want you to pick one place or the other because of me, even if I'm a microscopic influence. If I have to fly to Boston on Sundays, I’ll take it. I promise. I won’t complain. I just want you to be happy."

Oh.

After having different people try to yank me back and forth between here and Massachusetts, the fact that his big concern was my happiness, melted me. My heart thrummed, an ever-constant beat while I shifted a little closer to him.

"I’m staying," I whispered. "But thank you."

"It wouldn’t change anything. We’re not going to break up again."

"Here’s to hoping."

"No, it’s the truth." He hesitated. "I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you about something, but I can’t find a good way to do that, so I’m going to say it, and that's that." He cleared his throat. "Uh…not at all of the scars are from flipping the car. My dad isn’t a calm guy. He used to knock around me and my mom a lot."

Words escaped me.

"When Jasmine was born, I pretty much kicked him out. I was a lot bigger than him. It was easier than I thought it’d be and that’s where I fucked up."

My fingers curled into my palms. This was already a bad story, I didn’t want it to get worse.

"I had a game in Humble and my dad came back and hurt my mom while I was gone." He stopped. "Willow, when you told me about vaginismus, I was scared I could hurt you. More scared than I’ve been in a really, really long time."

Oh my god.

"I didn’t realize my dad made these…deliberate decisions to hurt my mom. I get it now, I’m nothing like him, because it’s the easiest decision in the world not to hurt you like that. I wish I didn’t hurt you in other ways to figure that out. I’m really sorry I was cold. And distant. I’m going to make up for it."

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tugged him down to me, squeezing him hard. "I’m sorry, King. Oh my god, that’s awful—I’m so sorry."

King didn’t say anything for long minutes while I held him close.

"The thing is—" He touched my back. "I don’t know how to do any of this."

"It’s okay. I don’t either."

"I want this to be right for you."

I finally released him with a kiss on his cheek. "I want this to be right for you too."

"Okay, I know what I need," he said, his voice quiet. "If you were anyone else, I could give up, but you’re not, so I can’t. I know you weren’t looking for something serious, but I can’t pretend like I don’t care. I can’t pretend like I don’t want more. I want to be your boyfriend and not something we only talk about when we have sex."

We’re actually doing this .

I nodded, the blush hot on my skin.

"Is that a yes?"

"It’s a yes."

A wide smile crossed his face. Gently, he picked up my hand and I was vaguely aware of the host of the evening talking about something. All my real attention was on King, kissing the back of my hand, lips traveling to my knuckles to kiss me again, eyes on me.

The sudden chatter of the crowd was weird. Ryan’s speech must’ve ended because the host was repeating something into the microphone.

"Travis? Travis—where’s Travis?"

It took seconds for the words to make sense.

Professionals who worked with the Romans used King’s first name but only combined with his last name. Otherwise, they just called him King. It was an unwritten rule. Hearing someone say Travis by itself was a weird shock.

"King?" I pulled my hand away. "I—I think they’re calling you?"

King frowned, gazing back at the room, where they were definitely trying to get his attention.

Why?

He glanced back at me, confused, but I didn’t know anymore than he did. With one last look at me, he walked towards the archway. Mere seconds passed before he was bathed in lights from the ceremony. Cameras flashed. The whole team burst into applause.

What…?

I walked alongside the railing, trying to figure out what was going on. Up on the screens, King stalled, stopping long enough for the host to pretend to lose his patience.

His close friends were clapping the hardest and Adam whistled, throwing his fist in the air. My mouth fell open when I connected the dots.

"Oh my god." I clapped my hands over my mouth, smiling so hard, my cheeks hurt. "Oh my god! "

The host roared with laughter. "Welcome the new defensive captain for the Romans, Travis King!"