20. Chapter 20
Chapter 20
LANE
Istare down at the bracelet in my hand and my heart clenches. It’s strung together by a pink piece of thick, yellow yarn. Two beads forming the number thirty-seven are flanked by two heart beads on either side.
“Please, Mommy, we have to take it to him,” Sophie whines.
“Soph . . .” I trail off, the words thick in my throat as the unbidden memory of me wrapped in Teagan’s arms and pressed against him in the cool lake hits me out of nowhere.
I climbed that boy like a damn tree, and in those moments, I never wanted anything more than I wanted him.
It would be so easy to blame it on the wine, because, yes, for a lightweight, I had too much, too fast. My head was buzzing, my limbs weightless, but I wasn’t drunk, and wanting him was all my own doing. The wine had nothing to do with the desire coursing through my veins; that was all me. It only made acting on it easier.
My cheeks heat when I replay the evening in my mind.
I’d been so bold with him, so different from the reserved girl I was with Chance back in high school. Then again, I was different then. I had to grow up fast.
What would have happened had Sophie not woken up?
It’s the question I keep asking myself.
And still, I have no answer.
Would Teagan have pushed me away? I could see him teetering close to the edge of his restraint.
Or would we have done something I’d come to regret?
As it is, I’ll have a hard time looking him in the eye when I see him next. I can’t imagine how I would feel if we’d hooked up.
“He needs it. It’s his good luck charm.” Sophie blinks up at me, her expression earnest.
“I know, honey, but he’s getting on a bus soon. Today’s game is away. Even if we wanted him to have it, I’m not sure we’d make it in time.”
“But we have to at least try.” Her lower lip quivers and her eyes fill. “Pappy has his handkerchief,” she says, referring to my father’s good luck hanky. “He always has it, and Teagan has nothing.”
“How do you know? Maybe he has—”
“No,” she insists. “I asked him.” She crosses her arms over her chest, fighting so hard against the wobble in her voice. “Please, Mom, he’s my bestest friend. And he’ll lose without it.”
My ribs crack open, heart exposed.
If I didn’t want Sophie to get attached, I failed.
A sob rips through her throat, and tears slide down her cheeks.
With a groan, I place my head in my hands, debating on what to do. If we take the bracelet to him where the buses pick them up, someone might see us, and the last thing I want to do is get him in trouble with my father. Even though I’d be willing to clear the air, I’m not sure I’d have the time before they leave for the game.
But Sophie is clearly devastated, and I’d be lying if I said a small part of me didn’t want to see him. Part of me wants to look him in the eyes after last night, to make sure nothing has changed between us. As crazy as it sounds, over these the past few weeks, Teagan’s friendship has come to mean something to me—he means something to me—and I don’t want that to change because in the moment we’d gotten carried away.
Sophie hangs her head, swiping at her tear-streaked cheeks as I glance at the time on my phone. “If we hurry, we might catch him.” I sigh.
“Really?” She blinks up at me, and the silvery tracks from her tears shine on the apples of her cheeks.
I nod. “But I can’t guarantee it. We could be too late.”
The sky overhead is cloudy and gray as we make our way to the stadium.
Sophie sits in the back seat, chattering incessantly the entire way. When I pull into the parking lot and peer up at the massive bus, I can see the silhouettes from within, which means they’ve already boarded.
Shit. How the hell am I going to get this to him without making a scene?
“It might be too late, honey,” I say, my voice trembling from nerves.
“Nuh uh, Mommy, I see him. Right there!” She points to the tinted windows of the bus, and sure enough, I catch Teagan’s profile toward the back.
Double shit.
A cursory glance around the lot tells me my father has yet to arrive because his red sports car is nowhere in sight. Maybe if I hurry . . .
“Okay,” I say, biting my lip. “But let me text him and tell him we’re here.”
I grab my phone from the cup holder of the car and open my contacts, find his name, and start to type out a quick text.
Me: Hey, I’m here at the school. Sophie wanted me to bring you something. Any way you can meet me outside the bus?
I hit send and watch as he glances down at something in his hands before his head whips up and he searches the lot beside the bus, easily finding us.
I offer him a little wave, then wait as he drops his head once more.
Teagan: Be right there.
He rises from his seat, seemingly pausing to talk to someone halfway down the aisle, and then he disappears from sight as he dismounts the steps on the other side.
Opening my car door, I step out and start walking for the bus at the same time Teagan comes into view, and my brain bursts into flames. Teagan in a football uniform is hot, but Teagan in a suit is a sight to behold.
The black suit coat stretches perfectly across his broad shoulders, somehow amplifying his athletic build. A crisp white shirt and blue tie draw my eyes for a classic look. Everything about him is polished, masculine, and completely sexy. The only thing remotely out of place are the rebellious curls mussed atop his head.
Feeling paranoid, I glance back up at the bus, and any hopes I had that his teammates might not notice our little exchange vanish as more than a dozen faces turn in our direction, watching Teagan’s approach.
“Hey,” Teagan murmurs, drawing my attention.
His sapphire gaze melts into mine, stealing all my reservations. Suddenly, we’re the only two in this parking lot, the only people on the planet.
I clear my throat, remembering why I’m here, and reach out, offering him the bracelet. “Sophie insisted you have this for your game. She said it’s your good luck charm, and she was quite adamant.”
He smiles and turns it over in his hands with a chuckle. “She asked me if I had a good luck charm, then made me put my numbers on this one but she said it was for her.”
I grin. “Clearly, I’ve raised a fibber.”
Teagan mock gasps. “You take that back. Not my Sweet Sophie.”
My heart squeezes, the breath stalling in my lungs as he asks, “Can I thank her myself?”
“Of course.”
I walk with him back to my car, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other while my mind wonders to last night, until the memory feels like a living, breathing thing between us.
When we reach my car, he swings open the back door to where Sophie sits and lowers into a crouch, the bracelet clutched in his hand. “Sweet Sophie, you sneaky little thing you. You told me this was your bracelet.”
Sophie giggles, her eyes red-rimmed from her earlier crying jag. “I tricked you because I wanted it to be a surprise. Now you’ll really win.”
Teagan nods, his expression solemn. “Thank you. I always wanted a good luck charm, but never thought I’d have one so pretty.”
He slips it over his large hand onto his wrist where it just barely fits, and Sophie nods her approval. “You can’t take it off. Ever. Not until football is over. Isn’t that what Pappy does with his hanky?” Sophie scrunches her nose, blinking up at me for confirmation.
I nod, my throat tight. “He carries it just about everywhere until the season is over.”
“See?” Sophie says, like he might argue. “You have to leave it on.”
Teagan covers the bracelet on his left wrist with his hand. “I won’t take it off. I promise. I may have to cover it with wrist tape, though, since wearing jewelry is frowned upon. Would that be okay, Sweet Sophie?”
Sophie sobers, her expression turning serious as if considering this, before nodding. “I think that’s okay.”
“Good.” Teagan’s lips quirk, and then he leans in and gives her a hug, made slightly awkward by her car seat. When he straightens, he turns to me, a hungry gleam in his eye as tucks his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. “Thank you,” he murmurs.
I swallow, trying for a smile, but my heart is racing so fast I can hardly manage it. All I can think about is nude Teagan from last night. All that smooth skin and hard muscle. How my legs felt wrapped around his waist, heart to heart in the moonlight. All the things I wanted to do . . .
Friends, Lane. You’re just friends.
I clear my throat and fake punch him in the arm. “Sure thing, buddy,” I say, and immediately want to die.
“Buddy, huh?” He grins and opens his mouth to say something else but is interrupted by the rumbling of an engine directly behind us.
I turn to see a flash of red, and my eyes widen. “It’s my father,” I blurt, turning back to him. “You better hurry if you want to avoid being grilled the whole way about why you were talking to me.”
He takes a step back, but not before holding my gaze a moment longer, regret swimming in his ocean-hewn depths. “Damn. I wish we had more time.”
A loan butterfly takes flight in my stomach, tamped down by the fist of dread in the form of my father. “Go,” I shoo him away. “You’re already bound to have some explaining to do,” I say, glancing pointedly at the prying eyes on the bus, and he grimaces.
“Nosy bastards.”
Then he turns and jogs for the bus.