15. Jason Kingsley
Chapter fifteen
Jason Kingsley
“Aren’t you a little too old to be playing pranks?” Shepherd asks over the phone.
I sigh, letting my head fall against the back of my couch. “This isn’t a prank. I’m engaged and getting married next weekend. Also, I’m only five years older than you, so that’s hardly old .”
“Of course it’s not old! You’re twenty-three. Which is why it’s alarming that you’re getting married to a woman you haven’t even introduced to your family.”
“So now you believe me,” I say, and an exasperated huff crackles through the phone.
“Is something wrong? I know you too well to think that you’ve gone and gotten some girl pregnant, but–”
“She’s not pregnant. We’re–we’re in love.” I stumble a little over the confession. Even though I teased Willow about not being able to say it with a straight face, I’m not entirely comfortable yet either. I’m hoping that my stuttering will come off as nerves.
“And this has nothing to do with the media being all over you for carrying her out of a party?” he asks.
“I thought I told you not to look at the tabloids.”
“It’s a little difficult when a bunch of guys on the team are sending me photos and texts about you scoring .”
I wince. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t what it looked like at all, which is why we’re announcing our engagement tomorrow. I’ve been keeping it private to keep us out of the media.”
“I get keeping it from the media, but why from me? You know I’d never tell anyone.”
I swipe a hand over my face. The hurt in his voice feels like a helmet to the ribs.
“I’m sorry, Shep. I should have told you. I thought it would be best to keep it quiet from everyone, to lower the risk. But that was wrong.”
This whole thing is wrong. I don’t lie to my brother. Even when I was a screw-up, bouncing from party to party and throwing my life away, I never lied about where I was or what I was doing. But this is to protect him. I don’t want him caught up in any kind of legal trouble or a scandal if something gets out. Plus, it’s not exactly fair for me to have Willow lie to her family but I tell the truth to mine.
“It’s okay. I know you’ve been put through the wringer when it comes to the media.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Yeah, I have. But most of that was my fault. If I hadn’t acted like such a reckless idiot, they’d probably leave me alone more. Not completely, because, let’s face it, they’re vultures. But enough to where I wouldn’t be in this position.
This isn’t just for you, I remind myself. It’s for Willow to stay in the country. I have to stick to this story for her. Even if she’s still learning to like me, she’s a good person. I could tell that before I saw how she took care of her granny earlier. She helped her to bed–much to Granny Mae’s dismay–and placed a grocery delivery order to her house while I drove her back to her apartment.
“Thanks for understanding,” I say.
“Do you have a picture of her? The ones the guys sent to me are blurry and dark.”
“Yeah, I can send you one.” I put my phone on speaker and open up my camera roll.
Photos from before dinner fill the screen. The ones the valet guy took for us are passable, but the ones I took are unforgettable. I click on my favorite of them all. Willow is looking up at me, the edges of her lips tugged up in a playful smirk. I’m staring down at her, smiling myself. Her hand is on my chest, and at the bottom of the photo you can see her engagement ring sparkling beneath the golden rays of the setting sun. I already sent the photo to Brock–after texting it to Willow first to check. She’d said it was a good one, but nothing else. I think if I didn’t know our ruse, I’d believe we were in love, or at least attracted to each other.
I send the photo to Shepherd. A whistle pierces the silence.
“She’s hot.” I roll my eyes at his choice of words. “And I definitely believe your whole story now. You look like a lovestruck puppy, ready to do her bidding.”
“I should have kept this from you even longer,” I say and he laughs.
“Don’t be mad at me for pointing out the obvious. I can’t believe you’re getting married . When do I get to meet her?”
“I’ve got a game near Atlanta in two weeks. I think we could swing by and watch your game, maybe hang out after. Then you could come watch me play Sunday.”
“Really?” The excitement in his voice squeezes my heart. Our parents rarely ever watch either of our games, and we don’t have many extended family members that we keep in touch with. I wish I could watch him play more often, but I make do with watching on TV and texting him after. Except for tonight…I missed this one to take care of this whole situation with Willow. I had to look up the highlights.
“You know I try to make it to your games whenever I can,” I tell him. Usually, on a bye week I try to spend the entire weekend with him. But this next one will be my wedding weekend. Hopefully Willow won’t mind coming with me to watch him play in Atlanta.
“One of us should have chosen a different sport,” he says.
I chuckle. “I chose football first, junior ,” I say, teasing him with the nickname I know he hates. He’s been called my junior since he was picked up by the Thrashers.
“How did you get someone to marry you when you’re the worst?” he grumbles and I laugh more, though there’s an ache building in my chest the more we talk about my impending nuptials.
“I just got lucky, I guess.”
I’m sure Willow wouldn’t call herself lucky , but I feel like I just got dealt an ace and a queen in a game of blackjack. The whole deck was stacked against me, but I beat the odds when she said yes.
It’s game day. My usual adrenaline is multiplied by a hundred–okay, a thousand–because of the announcement that broke this morning. Willow and I both posted on our respective social media, then several news sources splashed the photos we took all over TV screens and articles. I don’t listen to morning game day coverage, but if I did, I’m sure it would be mentioned at least once. Brock made sure that everyone would know that the incident from the other night at the party is old news .
I think back on the call I had with my parents this morning, where I broke the news to them. It went how I expected–fine. They congratulated me and invited us to Thanksgiving. I told them I’d probably be playing a game that day. They laughed and said they forgot I played on Thanksgiving. I hung up feeling slightly empty but mostly relieved to have checked that off my list. The rest of today won’t be so easy.
We have a game tonight, and we’re traveling this morning down to Florida. I made sure Miles and his fiancée Ellie had nice box seats to watch the game. I planned for them to come before getting engaged. Now they’re definitely going to want to meet Willow. I haven’t talked to him–or any of the guys–because I put my phone on silent as soon as I posted the photo of us. I didn’t need any extra stress today.
A pair of large hands slap my shoulders as someone boosts themselves up, half jumping on my back.
“Another married man on the roster!” Troy, one of the wide receivers, shouts near my ear.
“I’m not married yet, just engaged,” I say as I push him away.
He laughs. “Not eager to say you’re tied down yet? If I were you, I’d have married her the same night I proposed. She’s–”
I give him a dark look.
“A very nice lady,” he finishes with a too-wide smile.
“Yes, she is. A lady you will respect , not just because she’s my future wife, but because she is worthy of it all on her own.” My hard stare paired with my words has him nodding and backing away.
“Yep, yeah, of course,” Troy says, then books it onto the idling charter bus nearby.
I roll my eyes and scan the crowd for Willow. She should be here somewhere. I’m sure she’s coming along to get some behind-the-scenes content.
A hard slap hits my upper back, making me grunt.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Jamal says as I turn to face him.
He’s one of the ones I’ve been anxious about. All the guys on the team are important to me, but if they’re cousins, Jamal and Calvin are my brothers. He knows too much to not be suspicious about this, or at least be offended I didn’t tell him.
“Yeah, everything has happened so fast.” I rub the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, man.”
“Aaliyah says she knew there was something going on between you two the whole time.” He shakes his head. “I told her there’s no way you’d keep it from me, but I guess I was wrong.”
“We wanted to keep things under the radar. You know how the media is.”
Jamal knows firsthand how vicious the media is. They’d hounded him plenty when he and Aaliyah got together. They crafted a whole story of him cheating on her and picking up some foreign side chick from the airport when, in reality, he was picking up his cousin who had just gotten back from a study abroad program.
“I’m going to let this one slide, mostly because I’m happy for you, and my wife claims all the signs were there. Personally, all the signs I saw pointed to her hating you but-” He shrugs. “What do I know?”
It takes effort to keep my smile from sliding off my face. I’d been vocal with a few of the guys about Willow’s disdain, but I thought it came off more as a funny, teasing relationship. If Jamal thought she hated me, then maybe this whole thing goes deeper than I thought. Then again, Aaliyah is smart, and she’s close with Willow. She wouldn’t claim to have known all along without evidence of her own.
It’s in this moment of inner conflict that I spot Willow. She’s wearing a heather-gray hoodie with a maroon varsity letter-style Lions logo on the front, and matching gray sweatpants. Her hair is up in a ponytail, and it swings when she turns to talk to one of the assistant coaches, Harry. She smiles up at him and bobs her head. I’m sure he’s congratulating her, the same he did me when I passed him in the facility this morning. Troy and Jamal aren’t the first and certainly won’t be the last to talk about the engagement today.
“Man.” Jamal’s laughter draws my attention from Willow to him. “I don’t know how you two hid this. You have it bad.”
“I’m marrying her in a week, of course I do,” I say, ignoring the tight knot of anxiety in my chest.
Sure, I’m marrying Willow, but that doesn’t mean I should feel like this so soon. My crush is growing fast, and I’m certain Willow is nowhere near feeling the same. This is supposed to be a ruse.
Jamal says something else, but my attention is back on Willow once more. Her eyes catch mine, and a tentative smile plays on her pink lips. Distantly, I register Jamal squeezing my shoulder and walking away. But all I see is her. I open my arms as she comes closer, and she steps into my embrace without hesitation. She must know as well as I do that we’re on display here.
I wrap my arms around her, dipping my head to whisper in her ear.
“How are you doing?” I ask, smirking when I feel her shiver in my arms.
“I’m okay. My parents took the news…surprisingly well. Granny’s approval helped.” Her voice is slightly muffled against my Lions sweatshirt. “Everyone else has been nice so far. I haven’t checked my post comments or the tabloids though. I’m too nervous.”
Her hands tighten against my back, grabbing fistfuls of my sweatshirt. I hate that she is anxious, but I love that she’s leaning on me.
“I haven’t either. Let’s just get through the game, yeah? One thing at a time.”
I feel her chest rise and fall with a deep breath. I run a hand up and down her back.
“Thank you,” she whispers and starts to pull away, but I stop her.
“Everyone is watching, and it would probably be weird if I didn’t kiss my fiancée.” She stiffens. “May I kiss you on the cheek?”
“Oh,” she breathes out. “Yes, that’s fine.”
I pull back and meet her eyes. Their soft gray color reminds me of fog rolling over my pasture first thing in the morning. I brush a strand of hair away from her cheekbone, then press a soft kiss there. Her skin is warm and smooth. The thought of trailing kisses from that spot down to her mouth, then to her neck, has my blood heating. I clench my jaw and take a step back.
Willow stares up at me, looking–if I’m not mistaken–a little dazed. A smile pulls at my lips.
“Sit with me on the bus?” I ask in a low tone.
She nods, then whispers, “Okay.”
The uncertainty I felt earlier begins to melt away. The moment we just shared was easy, natural. Maybe buried beneath all her logical reasons for marrying me, there’s a little seed of attraction there, just needing some nurturing to make it grow. My smile widens. I can do that. I’ll water that tiny seed with affection and kindness until it grows into something more. What that will look like, I don’t know. It feels too ambitious to say love, but hey, a guy can hope.