10. Stone
Iwoke the next morning with a crick in my neck. I groaned as I sat up from where I’d passed out on my couch. I managed to get myself into a sitting position with my elbows resting on my knees. My head felt like it weighed a million pounds as I let it hang down, unable to find the strength to lift it up.
I started to massage my neck before moving to my shoulder and wincing. I shouldn’t have let Isaac push me to drink that much last night. But I had things that I needed to forget. Namely, the girl that lived next door. She had built a mansion in my mind, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t forget her. I was already struggling before I saw her standing topless in her kitchen. Now, she was all I saw when I closed my eyes.
I groaned in frustration when the image of her standing there with her hair falling down her bare shoulders flashed in my mind once more. Her eyes wide. Her skin soft and creamy. And her…
I punched the couch to ground myself as I shoved her from my mind. She wasn’t mine to look at like that. She wasn’t mine to fantasize about. She would never be mine. And allowing myself to think about her like that was wrong.
She deserved better.
I heaved my body off the couch and stumbled into the bathroom, where I turned the shower on. Fifteen minutes later, I was clean, but my head still felt as if a cloud had taken up residence.
I got out of the shower, dried off, and tied the towel around my waist. I made my way into the kitchen and started some coffee. I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes, dreading today. It was playoff season, and I should have never had that much alcohol.
“Idiot,” I said as I opened my eyes and focused on getting a mug from the cupboard. Just as I set it down on the counter next to the coffee machine, my phone buzzed. I walked into the living room and grabbed it off the side table.
Hayden: Hey boss! How was last night?
I sent her a puke-face emoji as I walked back into the kitchen.
Hayden: Haha, I figured from the calls last night.
Me: I called you?
Hayden: Yeah, a few times.
Me: Shoot
Hayden: The package was delivered last night with the note.
Me: You’re amazing
She went into breaking down the interviews I had tonight. She told me she’d meet me outside the locker room to remind me.
I sent her a thumbs-up emoji before pressing the side button and the screen went dark. I set the phone down and poured myself a mug of coffee. My gaze drifted over to Emerson’s apartment, and I allowed myself to wonder how she felt about my gift.
I’d never had the guts to tell her that my dad tried to pawn the gold keychain she’d given me that night. When he discovered that it wasn’t worth anything, he threw it in the street trash can. By the time I’d discovered that it was missing, it was gone.
That was the night I moved out and never spoke to him again. I moved in with Gran and moved on with my life. I hated that he took something that meant so much to her. I knew how much she believed in its luck, and I’d do anything to help her find something to replace it.
Last night, I had Hayden drop off an envelope with an elephant charm in it. I’d studied different forms of lucky charms around the world. And now that I knew where she was, I was determined not to stop until she found the kind of luck she’d given me.
By the time my mug of coffee was finished, I felt better. I changed into a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt before grabbing my jacket, keys, and backpack. I slipped my phone into a zippered pocket as I pulled open the door. I had a busy day.
By the time I got to the stadium, my adrenaline was pumping. I parked in my spot and climbed off my bike. I walked under the awning and punched in the code to get into the stadium. The energy was buzzing when I walked into the locker room. Everyone was talking and laughing as they pumped themselves up for the game tonight.
Coach talked to us before we went into the weight room to warm up our muscles. George and I practiced plays on the field until the rest of the team came out. We went through plays, everyone laser-focused on what Coach wanted us to do.
By the time we went back into the locker room to change, my nerves were at an all-time high. I always got this way before a game. Once I got out on the field, all my anxiety melted away, and it was just me and the ball. But the anticipation before always made my stomach queasy.
We were playing the Pittsburgh Pirates. It started out intense—I was worried that we might not win. But then George and I fell into a rhythm, and we closed the gap. By third quarter, we’d taken the lead.
After every touchdown, I’d throw the ball to the ground and break out into a dance. I could hear the cheer of the crowd as they joined me. I pointed my finger at the camera as I pulled off my helmet and smiled.
God, I loved my job.
We won 27 to 21. When the final buzzer rang, the Tigers gathered together, cheering, chest bumping, and slapping each other’s helmets. My heart was pounding as the echo of our victory rang through the stadium.
The locker room was abuzz as we ran inside. Coach went over how well we played, where we struggled, and said that we had a week of work ahead of us. Then he told us to get dressed; it was time for interviews.
I showered and dressed in my suit and tie. Hayden was waiting for me when I walked out of the locker room. She was a short girl with long red hair, which she always pulled back into a braid, and glasses perched on her nose.
She went over my talking points as we walked down the long hallway to the press corridor. Then I smiled for the cameras and avoided Priscilla’s provocative looks as I fielded questions. When I was finally done, I was exhausted.
The guys were headed to Fusion Boozin’ tonight to celebrate. I brushed them off, telling them that I was too tired. Truth was, I wasn’t really interested in doing anything other than lying on the couch and pretending that I didn’t care about who lived next door to me. Or the parts of her that I’d seen yesterday.
Hayden was waiting for me when I walked out of the locker room for the second time. I was wearing my leather jacket and had my bag strapped to my back. I nodded at her as she fell into step with me.
“I just heard that Emerson is playing tonight.”
I stopped, my entire body responding to the sound of her name. I glanced down at Hayden, hoping she didn’t see my sudden change. If she did, she didn’t acknowledge it. “Yeah?”
“I guess she got a spot at Fusion Boozin’.” She glanced up at me. “Did you want me to send another charm?”
I pushed my hand through my hair. Crap. The guys were going there. That spelled disaster. “Yeah, let’s do a dream catcher.” Then I winced. “Do you think you can find one in time?”
Hayden gave me a pointed look. “I’m your assistant. That’s my job.” She focused on her phone as she typed out dream catcher. “Got it. I’ll get started looking.”
I smiled at her. “Thanks.” I’d stopped in the hallway, knowing that I needed to head back to the locker room. I didn’t want to just show up at the bar by myself and run into Emerson. The guys gossiped enough. I didn’t need them drawing conclusions that I couldn’t dig myself out of. It would be better if I showed up with them.
Hayden hurried off to find a dream catcher and get it to her in time. I went back into the locker room and hung out with the guys until everyone was ready. Then we walked out together, each of us getting into our separate cars.
I rode my bike the fifteen minutes to the bar. It was busy when we pulled into the back. Craig, the owner, gave us our own spots. We walked in through the back, past the stage, and filed through the bar. A guy and his band were currently playing. The crowd was either dancing or sitting at the small tables on the outskirts.
A roar sounded when the other patrons realized we’d arrived. We took some time to sign autographs and to get clapped on the shoulder by half-drunk fans thanking us for the win. This was why I avoided going out with the guys. Alone, I was inconspicuous. Together, we were a giant neon sign that read, Tennessee Tigers.
Luckily, the crowd’s excitement died down, and all of us were settled in the reserved section with our drinks. I kept glancing over at the stage, wondering where Emerson was and when she was going to perform.
It felt like an eternity before she was finally announced. My entire body tensed at the sound of her name on the MC’s lips. I wasn’t sure where to look, but it felt impossible to pull my gaze from the stage. I sat there like a deer in headlights.
“Dude!” Isaac gripped my shoulders and shook me. “Did that guy just say Emerson?”
I shushed him, but the noise level was too high. Even if he had heard me, I doubted he cared. When Emerson walked out onto the stage dressed in a floral jumper that hugged her in all the right places, the entire table erupted in cheers.
For my teammates who didn’t know who she was, George, Isaac, Colt, and Jayden quickly filled them in. Suddenly they were all whooping and hollering. Emerson glanced in our direction, her cheeks pink as she studied us for a moment before recognition passed over her face.
And then her gaze slipped to mine. She held it for a moment. I knew I should pull back. I knew I shouldn’t look at her, but I wanted to. I needed to.
Before I could act, she broke our contact and glanced over at the MC, who turned the stage over to her. She strummed her guitar a few times before she closed her eyes and started singing. The entire bar grew quiet as we listened to her song.
My heart pounded as I watched her sing. Her voice was soft and soothing. When she smiled and nodded to people in the crowd, I felt jealous. I wanted to be the only person she looked at like that.
I growled under my breath as I sat back in my seat. I downed my whiskey and ordered another one. I hated the feelings that were brewing inside of me. I needed to dull them. I needed to dull the pain.
I hated that she looked this beautiful. I hated that I wanted to touch her. I hated that other men in the bar were looking at her like I was. I hated it because they had the chance that I was never going to have. It was torture.
Unable to sit there, wallowing in my self-pity, I excused myself. I needed to get out of here before the walls closed in on me and I could no longer breathe.
I pushed through the crowd until I got to the door that led backstage. I needed to get to my motorcycle and ride until my body returned to its normal temperature. Thankfully, backstage was empty as I walked through. I caught a glimpse of Emerson still on the stage, but she’d transitioned to a new song.
I knew I shouldn’t look, but I couldn’t help but stare as I walked past her.
I felt my foot come down on something followed by a feminine, “Ouch!”
I whipped my gaze over to see Tilly, Emerson’s friend, standing there with a pained expression on her face. She had lifted her foot and was holding it with her hand. “Stone?” she asked.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered as I glanced down to her foot. “Are you okay?”
She nodded as she rubbed her foot a few times before setting it back down on the ground. “I didn’t know that you were going to be here.”
She was holding a folder, and I could see some feathers peeking out from the bottom. I wondered if it was the dream catcher that Hayden had found.
“Yeah, I’m here with a few of the guys.”
She glanced toward the stage like she was looking for them in the crowd. “That’s amazing,” she whispered.
I frowned. Did Emerson want us here? “Yeah?” I asked.
She snapped her gaze back to me, her eyes wide like she hadn’t meant to say anything. “I—er—umm.” She blew out her breath. “I just think it’s awesome that an NFL team is supporting a local artist.” She smiled a bit too wide. Like she was plotting something.
“Really?”
Her smile remained for a few more seconds before she sighed and waved toward Emerson. “Poor girl is trying. She’s worked so hard to get discovered, but it seems like she can’t ever catch a break.” Tilly hugged the folder to her chest. “I just want the best for her.”
I glanced toward Emerson. Tilly’s words were rolling around in my mind. “You think that if she’s tied to an NFL team, she might draw attention to herself?”
Tilly glanced over at me. “Or tied to an NFL player…” She dragged her gaze over me before meeting my eyes.
“Me?” I asked, pointing to myself.
She shrugged. “It wouldn’t have to be for real. And you have history. You’ll protect her.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Right?”
If she only knew how much I wanted to protect Emerson. My mind was whirling. “So, you think I should get into a relationship with Emerson?” I needed her to be clear. There was no way I wanted to misinterpret what she was saying.
She raised her finger. “A fake relationship, yes.”
I glanced over at the stage. “Does she want this?” I was having a hard time believing that Emerson would be up for dating me. I could only assume Emerson didn’t know.
“Eh.” Tilly’s response solidified my thoughts. I glanced over at her, hating that I wanted this as much as I did. Tilly shot me a smile. “Emerson can be convinced.”
Reality came crashing down around me. As much as Tilly hoped Emerson would agree to this, I knew better. Emerson could barely talk to me, much less fake a relationship with me. This was over before it started.
The desire to leave grew even stronger. I wished I’d never stopped to talk to Tilly. I’d just gone on an emotional rollercoaster that came crashing to Earth in a fiery ball of disappointment. I pushed my hand through my hair, gripped my motorcycle helmet, and shrugged.
“She’ll never say yes,” I said. “But if you can convince her, I might be willing to give it a shot.” I gave Tilly a forced smile and turned. I wasn’t waiting for her to say anything more.
I headed to the back door and pushed it open. Darkness surrounded me as I walked over to my bike and climbed on. I shoved my helmet on my head, started the engine, and peeled out.
Streetlights and people whipped past me as I made my way down the road. I was on autopilot until I ran out of gas and pulled into a gas station.
As I stood there, filling my tank, I let my thoughts return to my conversation with Tilly. I couldn’t lie to myself, I wanted this. I wanted to pull Emerson close. I wanted to hold her hand. I wanted to be important to her…even if it was all fake.
But she was never going to say yes, and I was going to be tortured by watching her fake a relationship with someone else. From the determined look on Tilly’s face, this was happening whether it was with me or not.
I was about to enter my personal circle of hell. I was her neighbor, and that meant I would have a front-row seat to her relationships, fake or otherwise.
And I wasn’t going to do anything to stop it. Even if it hurt, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to move. I was here to stay.
The gas pump clicked, so I turned back to my bike and pulled the nozzle from my gas tank. My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I screwed the cap on the gas tank before I pulled my phone from my pocket.
George: Dude. Get back here. Someone’s creeping on your girl.