Chapter 14 #2
Once I triple check that I have everything we need to hang on the bleachers for two hours, I load the kids into the truck and head for the field. I’m not even going to lie, I silently applaud myself when I get there with five minutes to spare.
Legend runs onto the field, and Raiden runs straight for the concession stand.
Forty dollars later, the boys are munching on French fries and chicken fingers while I sit on the bleachers, my Stanley cup in one hand, my phone in the other.
Every time it’s Legend’s turn to practice tackle drills, I video him.
I have no idea what I’m recording, but I know Shotgun records all his practices, and on the off days, they study them.
I’m not sure what they go over, but I make a mental note to ask so that I can do it with him when he’s in California.
Even during the off-season, Legend likes to go over his videos, and I can find him in his bedroom watching Hudl videos of his past games.
He’s got a real passion for it, and I’m here for it.
It doesn’t even bother me that I’m the only mom here tonight.
I love watching my boy, I just wish I had a better understanding of the game.
Legend gets low, wrapping his arms around of his teammates, and takes him down to turf. When his coaches cheer him on, I pop up off the bleachers, and do the same.
“Get him, Legend!”
Legend rolls off the other boy, and even though he’s wearing his helmet, I can see his cheeks turn red, so I sit back down. That’s when I hear the roar of a motorcycle. I knew he would still show.
It’s another reason I didn’t respond to his text.
“Uncle Shotty is here,” Raiden announces, pointing to the entrance of the complex.
I lower my sunglasses so he doesn’t see me stare, and I take my time, drinking him in.
He doesn’t usually wear his kutte to the boy’s practice, which tells me he came straight from wherever he was, just like he said he would. “Can I go to him?”
I wait for his eyes to latch onto us so he sees the boys before turning to Raiden.
“Sure.”
He tosses his iPad on the bleachers a little too recklessly and abandons his food, jumping off the bleachers. Killian watches his brother take off toward Shotgun, and instantly turns to me. Pointing a pudgy finger to his chest he says, “Me too!”
I laugh because of course he’d leave me for Shotgun too.
“Go ahead, but don’t run. You’ll get a boo-boo.”
Not one to waste food, he takes another bite of his chicken tender before he follows the path his brother just took.
When he reaches Shotgun, he bends to lift him onto shoulders.
With Killian on his shoulders, and Raiden glued to his hip, he strides for me.
I turn my head, doing my best to appear unbothered and focus on the field.
He climbs the bleachers, taking a seat next to me. Neither of us say a word to one another. He’s too busy fielding questions from the boys, and I’m too stubborn. The practice wraps up an hour later, and he sends the boys to throw out the garbage.
I start to pack everything back up, still refusing to acknowledge him.
“How long you plan on staying mad at me?” He finally asks.
“I didn’t know there was a time limit.”
“I’m going to be gone for three weeks, Jade. There are other ways I rather spend our time together than seeing that puss on your face.”
“I don’t have a puss on my face,” I snap.
He reaches out gently lifting my sunglasses to the top of my head.
“Mama, you won’t even look at me.”
I lift my eyes to his to specifically prove him wrong.
“That’s better.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not mad you’re going. I’m mad you didn’t tell me about it.”
“I know. I think part of the reason I didn’t was because I was still hoping to find a way out of it.”
That surprises me. “You don’t want to go?”
He sighs, lowering his hands to his sides. “I want to go. It’s good for the club if I go. I don’t want to be away from you and the boys for three weeks.”
If he came clean, I could fly out with the boys like I used to do with Irish, but I’m not sure that’s wise. Telling everyone we’re together is bad enough, having to explain it to all the chapters, including the national one, would only make things more difficult.
I cross my arms against my chest so I don’t wrap my arms around him.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“Then quit fighting with me while I’m here.”
“Fine.” I pout. “But just so you know I’m a fan of make-up sex.”
“Sweetheart, you’re a fan of all the sex.
” He inches forward, his eyes doing a quick sweep of our surroundings.
When he catches sight of the boys running around the field chasing after Legend and his teammates, he lets his finger trail from my collarbone, sliding it all the way down between my breasts.
“Got my test results today,” he says as he blatantly stares down my shirt.
“Oh, so you’re finally going to fuck me?”
He snaps his hand back, flashing me a wicked grin.
“All night long.”
He makes it really hard to be mad at him when he makes promises like that, but when we leave, I tell him I have ro stop at the gas station before we get dinner, and he pulls his motorcycle right behind me to pump my gas—he makes it damn near impossible.
He does, however, make it really obvious that I’m in love with him.
And three weeks without him is going to feel like an eternity.