Chapter 18 #2
Laughter bubbles at the back of my throat, and when I can’t hold it in any longer, I double over, laughing until my cheeks ache.
The entire situation is so dark and so ridiculous that, as soon as I think I’m finished, another round of the giggles slams into me.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed this hard.
Would it be nice if the cause was about anything other than my asshole uncle?
Of course. But I’ve had too many losses to ignore the wins when they’re handed to me.
I get so lost in the absolute absurdity that is my life, I forget where I am and, more importantly, who I’m waiting for, until it’s too late.
A large hand on my window turns my laughs into screams and sends my newly discovered bravado spiraling into the atmosphere…along with my phone.
“Luna? Shit. I’m sorry.” Tate leans in to get a closer look at me through my dust-covered window, but not even a film of filth could hide the concern written across his gorgeous face. “Are you okay? Wait…are you laughing or crying?”
If my heart was already going one million miles an hour, the sound of his voice sends it racing to two million. I open the window, and the sound of Duke’s excited snorts glides inside my car along with the muggy night air.
“I was laughing, then I was screaming, and now I’m attempting to talk to you.”
One day I’ll go an entire conversation with him without being a weirdo, but it’s not today.
“Laughing, huh? What was so funny?” he asks, and for one terrible, impulsive moment, I almost tell him the truth.
“A random email,” I say as if a half lie doesn’t count. “I don’t think it was even that funny. It was a long day and I might be a little slaphappy.”
At least that part is true. I spent all morning wallpapering Gabby’s room and met up with Millie for a pregame cocktail. The football game was fun, but my energy is beginning to teeter on empty.
“Then what are you still doing out here?” A loc falls in front of his face. My fingers itch to reach out and tuck it behind his ear. “Are you okay to drive or do you want me and Duke to give you a ride?”
If I wasn’t busy trying to come up with a reason that doesn’t make me sound like a stalker, I might melt into a puddle. This man has no right to be this hot and this sweet.
“Oh no, that’s okay. Thank you for offering, but I just, you know…I wanted to tell you good game. Say hi to Duke.” Duke’s snorts turn into impatient whines when he hears his name, and his little nails tap-dance on the pavement. I lean my head out the window and wave to him. “Hi, Duke.”
Good game? Say hi to Duke?
I waited in an empty parking lot for over an hour to tell him good game and wave to his dog? It probably would’ve been a good idea to think of what I was going to say to him at some point over the last hour.
I blame my uncle.
“That’s nice of you, but I didn’t really do anything.” His voice is thick with skepticism, but he’s too kind to call out my very obvious lie. Again. “The boys did all the hard work.”
“Oh my god! I almost forgot!” He reminds me of one of the actual reasons I had to be here. I hit the button to open my trunk and jump out of my car. “I made something for the boys.”
Duke bumps into my legs and demands his well-deserved scratches for being the very best football dog tonight. I happily oblige.
“Were you the goodest boy?” I ask him. “I think you need a jersey like your teammates, don’t you?”
My sewing skills are average at best, but now that I’m picturing Duke in an Astros jersey, nothing will stop me.
“Luna.” Tate calls my name and his eyebrows are furrowed in that way they always are when we’re together. “You made something for the boys?”
I stand up, trying my hardest to avoid Duke’s disappointed puppy eyes.
“I said that I would. We’ve been preparing for tonight for the last month and a half.
What kind of training partner slash honorary teammate would I be if I didn’t help celebrate them for their first game?
” I grab Tate’s hand and pull him to the back of my car to show him the trunkful of goody bags I assembled for the team.
“I made one for everyone on the roster, plus the coaches, and then I added an extra ten in case I messed up the math somehow. It should be enough, but if anyone is left out, you have strict orders to let me know right away and I’ll bring more up to the school, stat. ”
He grabs one of the bags and starts rummaging inside.
“These must’ve cost a fortune.” He unwraps one of the protein bars I stuck inside and takes a giant bite out of it. “These are really nice. You didn’t need to do this.”
“Duh.” I roll my eyes. “I didn’t need to, I wanted to, and I had a lot of fun putting them together. I didn’t know if they could have home-baked items, but if you give me the go-ahead, they’ll be even better after the next game.”
When I wasn’t scrolling Pinterest for more home decor ideas and chicken tips for beginners, I was looking for athlete-approved snacks to give the boys.
I found so many that I had to start a new board to organize them all.
I already bought the ingredients for a few of them because even if I can’t bring them to the school, I’m making them for myself.
There’s nothing I love more than a treat I can trick my mind into believing is actually good for me.
It’s like when I pat myself on the back for ordering a low-calorie Diet Coke over a regular Coke when really I know it’s just as bad, if not worse, for me.
“When it comes to special treatment for student athletes in Texas, there are no rules,” he says, furthering my belief that Friday Night Lights was more fact than fiction. “I don’t know what the official rule is, but I know the team moms have made things for the team before.”
I’m not a mom or even the teeniest bit related to the team, but my ears perk up and my interest is immediately piqued.
“Team mom?” I repeat, already concocting a plan to infiltrate the group. “What do they do, and do they need an extra set of hands?”
“Oh no.” He shakes his head and holds up his hands like he’s warding off evil spirits.
“Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want anything to do with them.
They’re always the source of some kind of drama.
The only group worse than them is the fucking booster club.
” He shivers at the mention of the innocuous group.
“I know how to handle a team full of teenagers and a wrench, but I don’t think I’ll ever know how to deal with those people. ”
Tate might not outwardly like most people, but he’s never given me the impression of someone who talks crap about people who don’t deserve it. If he’s cautioning me away from the booster club, it’s probably in my best interest to heed his warning.
“No team mom, friends of the team, or booster club memberships for me.” I close the trunk. “Got it.”
“Good choice.” He leans against my car and bites back his smile. It’s almost as if the joy he felt on the field has seeped into him off of it.
“All my choices are good.”
“If I wasn’t in the process of fixing your bathroom because you didn’t read the inspection, I might believe that,” he says. “But I am, so I know they’re questionable at best.”
A small breeze brushes against my legs and wafts his cologne in my direction. Nobody should smell that good after standing outside—running and jumping—for as long as he did.
“First of all, rude.” I fold my arms in front of my chest. I hope it looks like I’m annoyed and not like I’m hiding my nipples that have gone hard beneath my tank top.
“Second of all, the floor technically needed to be fixed whether I lived there or not. If you think about it, I should be heralded as a hero for saving some nice, innocent Celestial native from falling through the ceiling. And last, are you ever going to tell me how much I owe you?”
He said he would get me an estimate when he first came to inspect the damage, but he’s more than halfway finished and I’ve yet to see a single bill or receipt.
“Okay, hold on. I need to make sure I don’t miss anything,” he says.
“So, one, I’m sorry. I’d never want you to think I’m being rude…
to you. Two, you’re right. I’ll reach out to the principal and see if we can honor you as the local hero you are before one of the games. And three, maybe, but unlikely.”
“Excuse me.” My jaw falls to the ground as I struggle to process what’s happening. “Are you…are you teasing me?”
“Teasing you? Who would do such a thing?”
Other than the jerky version of him that ran out of my house and gave me attitude at his parents’ house, I like Tate in all his forms.
I like him brooding and moody. I like him focused and determined. I really, really like him when he’s soft and gentle, lying on a blanket and stargazing with me. But without a doubt, Tate carefree, happy, and teasing is by far the very best.
“You would and you do.” I try to pout but my heart’s not in it. It’s too busy falling deeper for the man in front of me. “At least I can count on Duke to defend me. Right, buddy?”
Duke looks up from the spot he’s claimed on the pavement and grunts his agreement.
“That’s not fair,” Tate says. “You’ve bribed him for his loyalty. He’s always on your side.”
I shrug and bend down to pet an uninterested Duke. “Sorry, Coach. That sounds like a you problem.”
“I guess I can’t blame him too much,” he says, and I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but I swear his voice drops an octave. “I’d take your side over mine too.”
“I’m glad you’re a big enough person to admit that.” My husky voice cuts through the now-empty parking lot, and I’m suddenly very aware that we’re all alone.
Again.
His eyes darken beneath the amber glow of the streetlight and the air goes still.
“I always thought being by myself at the ranch was the only thing that could bring me peace.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “But I’m starting to think I was wrong. That you might be my peace too.”
The earth shifts and time stops. Constellations shine brighter above us, as if his quiet admission shifted the planets and moved the stars. His presence swirls around me like a drug, and I breathe him in until I’m high off him. I feel lightheaded. The air is too thick. It’s too much.
It could never be enough.
The space between us closes. I reach for his hand, and the touch alone is enough to set me at ease and on fire at the same time. His long fingers wrap around mine. He pulls me closer, so close that I’m sure he can feeling my heart beating out of my chest.
“Tate—” I say, but the sentence falls away.
What am I supposed to say to him? That I want him? That I’m afraid if this happens between us that I’ll need him? That I’m terrified to need anyone ever again?
But because this is Tate, I don’t have to say anything.
He lowers his head until his mouth is hovering over mine and I can’t tell where his breathing begins and mine ends. “I know,” he says. “I know.”
It feels like we stay like this for centuries, suspended in the before, living in the possibilities.
I know I should walk away. It’s the smart thing to do.
But standing in front of him, reveling in his touch, I have a feeling the promise of Tate is greater than the risk of the heartbreak he’s sure to bring.
Shutting down all thoughts and acting only on instinct, I roll onto my toes and touch my mouth to his.
I don’t know how a man so big and tough can be this gentle.
His lips are soft, but the kiss is softer. It’s painstakingly sweet and so perfect I could cry.
And it’s not enough.
Thankfully, Tate feels the same.
Faster than the lightning racing down my spine and between my legs, Tate tangles his strong fingers in my unruly mass of curls and pulls my head back so that he’s the only thing I can see.
“If you don’t want this, I need you to tell me now,” he says between heavy breathing. “I’ve tried so hard not to let you under my skin, but you’ve embedded yourself so deep, that if I get another taste of you, I know I’ll never be able to work you out of my system.”
He’s giving me an out.
I should take it, let us both go on with our lives. Life has already burned me, and the last thing I need is to play with fire again.
It’s just too bad Texas has taught me to love the heat.
“Promise?” I ask instead.
He doesn’t ask again.
His calloused hands dip beneath my tank and his mouth crashes to mine.
It’s not gentle.
Neither of us have it in us to pretend this is anything other than what it is, to act as if every second spent together before this wasn’t decadent torture leading to this exact moment.
That we weren’t inevitable. My toes curl in my shoes, and need pools between my thighs. I taste like desperation in his mouth.
He tastes like wonder in mine.
It’s like this is my first ever kiss, like I’ve known his touch for a lifetime.
Every single emotion I’ve fought to suppress pours out of me.
His teeth nip my bottom lip, and our tongues twist together in unspoken promises.
My nervous system turns to static beneath his touch.
Electricity shoots through my veins, and sparks ignite in my heart.
It’s the best kiss of my entire life, and when it ends, I feel the loss down to my soul.
“Wow.” He effectively sums up how I feel in a single word. “That was…”
He stops and I know why. There are no words to describe what that was.
“I know,” I finish for him this time. “It was.”
“Now that we sorted that out,” he says before stealing one more quick kiss. “Have you eaten yet?”
It’s such a simple question, and after what just happened between us, it shouldn’t be enough to make my heart skip a beat or twist my stomach into a million and one knots.
But it does.
“I had some popcorn at the game, but I could go for dinner.” I try to sound unbothered and have some chill as the kids would say, but not even an asteroid could wipe the smile off my face. “What about you?”
“I could eat,” he says, but when his gaze focuses on my mouth, I get the distinct impression that he’s not talking about food anymore.
Lucky for him, I’d be thrilled with either.