Shoot Your Shot

Chapter Twenty-Six

Twenty-Six

Jaylen

JAYLEN:

LUCY:

JAYLEN:

LUCY:

I woke up this morning exhausted from the week’s travel schedule. In the last six days I’ve been in three different time zones. Adjusting to time change is one thing, but facing off against some of the most highly skilled and lightning-fast teams this road trip drained what little mental energy I had left. The season is long, and spring feels the longest. The games were hard-fought battles, and luckily, we left with more wins than losses.

We ended the trip in Chicago, where I was welcomed home by my own personal fan section of about fifty relatives. It’s always a lively family reunion when you’ve got enough cousins to equip a twenty-three-man roster. Put them in Jones jerseys with beer in hand and you’ve got the loudest group in the whole arena.

As nice as it was being home and seeing everyone, I couldn’t wait to get back to Lucy, the woman I told my entire family about. My sisters read it on my face like a billboard the second they saw me. One ear-to-ear smile as I glanced down at my phone reading a good-luck text from Lucy and they officially clocked me. “You’re texting her , aren’t you?” I couldn’t shut up about her once I started talking.

I should be spending the day in bed trying to catch up on rest, but I haven’t been able to sit still long enough to fall back asleep. I keep thinking about Lucy. She’s on her way over now, and I hope she gets here soon. I’ve already ironed my shirt three times. If I have to wait around much longer, I’m going to burn a hole through it.

As I fuss with my hair in the reflection of my microwave, the door opens. She’s rushing in, apologizing for being late. Her hands are full of painting supplies and various reusable cups, which she dumps on the floor near the door like a weight lifter dropping their bar. I walk over and give her a big hug. The second she wraps her arms around my waist, my anxiety melts away.

“I missed you,” I say, taking a deep inhale of the top of her head. I missed the way she fits into my arms, the way she smells. I swear I wasn’t gone that long, but it feels like forever since I’ve seen her.

“I missed you too. Although, I think I’m getting really strong having to carry stuff to and from the rink on my own.” Lucy steps back, rolling up the sleeve of her T-shirt as she flexes her muscles at me.

“Looking buff.” I humor her by squeezing her bicep, and to my surprise, it’s pretty firm. “I want to hear all about your last interview.” I help move her bags out of the doorway and inside my apartment.

“It was fine. A good practice run for my upcoming interview with Hunter Gunn. That apprenticeship is mine,” she says passionately. Her face contorts into a worrisome expression, souring like she’s taken a candy in her mouth. “I mean, as long as I don’t do that thing where I get nervous and ramble about the time I accidentally ate an entire magic mushroom chocolate bar and when I finally came to I was making balloon animals for children at the farmer’s market. I made two hundred dollars in tips that afternoon.” She hops up on a kitchen bar stool and leans her torso over the granite island countertop, getting comfortable.

“I’d say that’s a strength.”

She’s been working so hard lately between the murals and her job applications and interviews. She’s even started selling her work online while she waits to hear back about the tattoo apprenticeships. Her passion is contagious, and it’s really sexy to watch her go after what she wants so fearlessly.

“Do you need a ride to the interview? I can skip my pregame nap and drive you if you want,” I offer, wanting to support her with this as much as possible.

“No! I mean, you’ll be traveling for away games. Maya said she would drive me.” Lucy fidgets with her fingers, twirling her rings like she’s aggressively sharpening a pencil.

She seems a bit on edge. I lean back on the counter across from her, extending the space between us. I hope she isn’t mad at me.

“I didn’t hear from you as much this past week. Is everything okay?” I grab an apple from the overflowing fruit bowl on my kitchen island. It makes a loud crunch as I bite into it.

“Everything’s fine. It was an eventful week.” Lucy grabs her own apple out of the fruit bowl and fidgets with its sticker. “A drag queen burned her wig off during a very believable performance of ‘Girl on Fire’ during a show at Cooper’s café. Then Maya had this clothing-swap meetup thing, but it was just a bunch of lesbians exchanging slightly different variations of the same plaid button-up. If I start wearing a lot of plaid button--ups, please know I did not join an axe-throwing team,” she rambles as she twists the stem of the apple until it snaps off.

I set my half-eaten apple down on the counter behind me. The reason I was so nervous to see her today is because I think I might have laid it on too heavy the last time we were together. She usually FaceTimes me while I’m on the road, but this trip she was always too busy anytime I tried to call.

I want to make sure we’re cool, but I don’t want to create an issue if there isn’t one to begin with. Relationships are new to me, and I don’t have the experience to know how to handle this situation. Wells would probably tell me to say what’s on my mind, but I’m not trying to tell her she’ll look like a sexier Kurt Cobain in her new plaid shirts.

“I freaked you out with the whole ‘I love you’ thing, didn’t I?”

“Noooo.” Lucy drags the word out for a dishonest number of syllables.

“I’ve never had a serious girlfriend before, so I don’t know all the rules. I’m guessing it was too soon to say that to you,” I say, despite the fear of rejection. I step forward and lean on the countertop, getting closer to her.

“We’re dating?” Lucy asks, her face giving no indication of whether or not she’s joking.

“Well, yeah,” I say matter-of-factly. My head tilts to the side as I look her over for any visible signs of a head injury. She looks fine, which means she must be joking. We’ve been inseparable for months. She makes me coffee every morning. I scratch her back every night. We’re already more than halfway through watching every Naruto episode.

I know I don’t have a whole lot of dating experience, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that we’ve been dating for a month, minimum. At least that’s what I’ve been telling my friends, family, teammates, and Cheryl, the lady who does my dry cleaning.

Lucy finally cracks a smile. “It seems everyone already knew we were dating but me. Aren’t you supposed to ask me first? Did we agree to be in an exclusive relationship and I missed it?” Lucy slides out of the chair and slowly walks up to me, stopping close enough that I can feel the heat of her body.

“Hmm, I guess not. Was I supposed to formally ask you? We spend every night I’m home together. You have a toothbrush here. You’ve stolen at least three of my sweatshirts already.” I pull her into my arms.

“Four,” she says, resting her head against my chest.

“Four?” I pull back, my eyes widened. “We better be dating or else I’m concerned you’re stealing from me.”

“Everything in here is too big and heavy to lift alone. Although, I have stolen a couple of T-shirts in addition to the collection of sweatshirts.” She stands on her tippy toes to kiss my neck.

“And let’s not forget that we at least like each other, right?” I find a casual way to bring up the unreciprocated “I love you” from the last time we were together. I’m not usually one to interrupt a kiss on my neck, but I hope this time she’s more receptive to having a discussion about it.

“Right. I like you, Jaylen. I really like you.” Her big round hazel eyes look up at me, sucking me in. She has a bit of dried paint in her hair that I assumed was a new dye job at first glance. I gently scrape it out of her hair for her.

“Good, so you’re my girlfriend. I mean, Lucy, will you please be my girlfriend?” I ask, humoring her with pleading hands.

“No,” she quickly replies, flashing her signature cheeky little--shit grin that I love so much. She loves to give me a hard time, but I take it with great pleasure. Before I can grab her in my arms, she darts away, escaping to my bedroom like it’s a game of tag and now I’m It.

It’s game on as I quickly catch up to her. I wrap my arms around her body and tackle her onto my bed. She giggles in my grasp as she tries to wiggle her arms free.

“Say you’re my girlfriend. Say it!” I shout, tickling her ribs.

“Okay. I am. I am. Of course I am!” she laughs as she fights me off.

She gets her arms free and cups my face, tracing over my bottom lip with her thumb. I quickly part my lips and let her thumb slide into my mouth, playfully biting it until she slides it out and down my lip.

“Say it like you mean it this time,” I demand.

She licks her lips. “I’m your fucking girlfriend, Jay.” She quickly breaks into a smile. “You know, in actuality, we’ve probably been dating for at least a month without me noticing,” she says, biting down on her full bottom lip.

I shake my head at her stubbornness, in disbelief at how lucky I am to have a girlfriend as cool as her. I move in slowly for a kiss. Her soft lips part as she kisses me with passionate force. I immediately want more.

She pulls her mouth back. “Hey, since you’re officially my boyfriend, you wouldn’t want to come to my birthday dinner at my mom’s, would you? I know it’s really lame to ask, but it feels like something you do with a boyfriend.” She holds her breath as she awaits my answer. Her body is tense beneath me.

I’m honored she asked. She might not have said “I love you” back to me, but sometimes people say it in different ways.

I don’t know much about Lucy’s family, but she talks fondly of her mom, and about as fondly as you would expect an older sister to speak of their younger brother. It’s her relationship with her dad that remains a mystery. In some ways, Lucy wears her heart on her sleeve—literally, her tattoo arm sleeve says a lot about her. But there’s a lot she keeps guarded. All I know is that he left when she was little, wasn’t around when she was growing up, and doesn’t check in much. This dinner at her mom’s house could give me more insight into her life, her childhood. It could bring us closer together.

“Absolutely. I would love to go with you,” I say eagerly. “I mean, I would like to go with you.” My lips spread in a sly smile.

Laughing, she wraps her hands around the back of my neck and pulls me in close. “I would love for you to come.” She coos, humming on the word come .

I slowly trace my hands up her body and lace my fingers through the back of her hair. “I like the way you say that.”

Her eyebrow pops, and she smirks. “Love?” she teases.

“Come,” I say, biting my lip.

She laughs even harder. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I hopped in the shower then? I’m still covered in paint from today.” She bats her eyelashes at me like it was more of an invitation than a request.

“I should come with you. You know, to conserve water.” I’ve been half-erect since she stuck her finger in my mouth, and now that the thought of her naked in my shower is on my mind, I can’t think of anything else.

I follow Lucy into the bathroom, where she makes me watch her slowly undress while the water heats up. I try to touch her, but she pushes my hands away. First her shirt, then pants, then underwear, until she’s naked in front of me. She runs her hand over the front of my pants, and my hard dick jerks against her touch.

“I’ve really missed you,” she says, with her hand still pressed against my cock.

“Show me how much you missed me.” I unbutton my pants and slide them down to my ankles along with my underwear.

Lucy drops to her knees, and I rip my shirt off over my head. She takes my dick in her hand and licks it from the base all the way to the tip while looking up at me. She teases me, swirling her tongue around my hard tip while I tug on a handful of her hair. My eyes roll in the back of my head as she takes it all in her mouth. Her hot wet tongue presses against the bottom of my shaft and she sucks as her mouth slides to the tip. I use my hand on the back of her head to guide her up and down my cock.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” I say. She moans with a full mouth. It feels so good that it’s selfish and, in that moment, I want nothing more than to feel her come all over my dick. “Get up,” I say, tugging on the back of her neck.

We step under the showerhead, soaking our bodies in hot water. I grab her by the waist and pull her into me, kissing her in the steam. She makes good use of the oversize standing shower as she leans back against the wall and props a leg up on the built-in bench.

I get to my knees for a better view of her pussy. I slowly slide my hand up the inside of her thigh and she bites down on her lip, suppressing a moan. She’s slick and hot between her legs. I bring my mouth to her for a taste.

She squeezes her tits together as my fingers slowly push inside her. “You fucking love this, don’t you,” she moans.

My head nods like a bobblehead on a dashboard. I struggle to find my words. A breathy “yes” is all I get out.

I stand up and turn her around, pressing the front of her body against the shower glass. I stand firmly behind her, gripping her hips. We both have a foggy view of ourselves in the mirror across from the shower. “Look at yourself. Look at how good you look,” I say, pointing to our reflection.

I take my dick in my hand and slowly guide it inside her from behind. She’s so tight from this angle. As soon as I get inside her, I know I’m not going to last long. I reach my arm around and start rubbing against her clit. She whimpers as I thrust harder and harder until I’m right there.

“I’m coming,” she says, gushing into my hand and all over my cock.

I keep fucking her until I feel the tension in her body release. Only once I know she came do I allow myself to finish inside her.

I gasp. “Fuck, I love you, babe.” The words fall out of my open mouth before I can catch them. That’s the thing with “I love you”—once you’ve said the words, they’ll keep finding their way out of your mouth again and again.