Chapter 19
I love going out in Celestial. It has the dreamiest little downtown.
Everything is so quaint and magical that it feels like stepping out of the real world and onto the set of a Hallmark movie.
The moment I drove through it for the first time, I knew there wasn’t a place in the entire world that I would like more.
But that was before I pulled into the driveway of the unassuming bungalow right on the outskirts of town.
“So this is where the Tate Jacobs lives,” I say. “It’s nice.”
He waves off my compliment. “It’s not much, but it works. The stadium is close and there’s a good-sized yard for Duke. I like it.”
I look around the space that is somehow exactly and nothing like I expected.
The walls are cream and the wide plank hardwood floors are spotless.
A gray sectional is pushed against the wall in the corner of the room, topped with pillows I’m sure Ciara or Pam were behind, and one corner is filled with noticeably less aesthetic pillows and a throw blanket covered with fur.
Duke’s spot. The handsome coffee table houses the only clutter in the room, and I don’t have to look closely to know it’s all pages of his playbook and notes on the team.
His walls are blank except for one lone canvas picture of him standing on the sideline with three Astros players, all their heads thrown back laughing, their joy shining bright even though the picture is black-and-white.
I wonder what his bedroom looks like…
“Well, it’s only fair that you finally invited me over.” I take off my shoes and set my purse on the corner of the couch. “You’ve only been to my house a million times. It’s about time you let me see yours.”
He crosses the living room to turn on the light in the kitchen, and from what I can see, there doesn’t look to be any more personality present in there than in here.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I was worried you wouldn’t like it.” He starts pulling box after box out of the bag of take-out food he ordered. “Not only are my cabinets not pink, but my bathtub hasn’t fallen through the ceiling, and I know how much you like that.”
I’m walking toward him, but at his words, my steps freeze. Duke wiggles around at my feet and whines, not understanding why I stopped.
“Hold on, Duke,” I whisper, and crouch down to my favorite puppy as I give him a quick belly rub. “Your dad just told a joke, and I didn’t know he knew how to do that.”
“Ha ha.” Tate grabs two plates and some forks out of his cabinets. He moves easily through the space, and it’s clear that while he might not like to cook, he loves to be at home. “I’m actually hilarious—you just haven’t paid close enough attention to realize it yet.”
He’s wrong. When it comes to him, I notice everything.
I lean against the opening to the kitchen. “Aw, yes, the ever-elusive straight man who has to tell women he’s funny. I think I’ve heard of this before.”
He throws his head back and laughs. The sound fills every nook and cranny of the empty house, and all of a sudden it feels like a home.
It feels like a gift anytime I hear Tate laugh, but here, standing barefoot in his kitchen with him as he pulls take-out boxes out of a bag only for the two of us?
It’s euphoric. I can almost feel the sound of his raspy chuckle as it bounds across my skin and takes root some place much, much deeper.
I want to run across the kitchen and pull his mouth to mine, absorbing the sound of his laughter until it lives in me.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” His smile is bright and unguarded. He holds his hand up in front of him in the Scout’s honor gesture. “I might not always be funny, but I solemnly swear that I will never mansplain.”
Funny and charming in one night? This isn’t going to end well for me. After the kiss in the parking lot and now standing in his home, I’m in serious danger of falling. And falling hard.
“You know just what to say to get the ladies going.” I’m going for sarcastic, but it comes out sincere. Heat rushes up my cheeks, and I try to change the subject. “Thank you for dinner, by the way. This looks great.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t been to Sandy’s yet.
Best Southern food in Celestial. Maybe even Texas.
” He pulls out a chair and gestures for me to sit.
How he manages to be terse, chivalrous, and playful at the same time is one of life’s great mysteries.
It will never cease to amaze me. “I’m glad I get to be the one who you try it with for the first time. ”
I know he’s only talking about the food, but warmth curls through me as I think about all the firsts we’ve already had and how many could come if we play our cards right.
The past has told me not to plan for the future, but when I’m with him, I can’t help it.
It’s a thought I should keep to myself, but for once, I don’t want to be shy about what I’m thinking.
Add that to the list of firsts.
“You were my first Texas football game too,” I tell him, and when I’m rewarded with the way his onyx eyes turn molten, I keep going.
“And the first person to take me stargazing on a blanket in a wide-open field. You were the first stranger to talk to me at a bar in Celestial and the first person to sneak up on me and scare me at the track. You’re so many of my firsts, and I don’t think I’m any of yours. ”
It’s too much.
I know it’s too much.
“I’m a pretty good first,” he says. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”
He turns away and walks to the fridge before I can respond, and I can only imagine what’s going through his head. That was way too deep, way too fast, and I’m sure he’s already plotting how to get me out of his house as soon as he can.
Stupid, Luna. So stupid.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asks, interrupting my inner doomscroll. “I don’t have as many options as you, but there’s Dr Pepper, some Gatorade, and one Diet Coke Ciara left when she came over to annoy me the other day.”
I force a smile on my face and try to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. I push away thoughts of what might be and try to focus on what is, which means for at least this very moment, sitting with the man I really, really like and eating dinner with him.
“Diet Coke, please,” I say, grateful none of my inner turmoil is evident in my voice. “And if you see Ciara before I do, please thank her for saving me from having to drink Dr Pepper.”
“Hey!” He reaches into the fridge and grabs me the Coke. “Not again with the Dr Pepper slander. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
I make sure to keep the drinks he likes on hand since he’s over at my house so often. It’s just such a shame that the one he seems to love is disgusting.
“I do know what I’m missing, because I drank it when I was a kid,” I remind him. “Before I developed taste and standards.”
His lips curl up in a crooked smile I might like more than his big, wide-open one.
“So now that you’re older,” he says, handing me the pop and taking the seat in front of me, “what are your standards like?”
“Now I drink pop that has zero calories, a weird aftertaste, and so many chemicals that if I drink enough of it, I might not need to be embalmed when I die.” I crack open the pop can and stare at him over the top as I take a sip. “Like an adult.”
He laughs again, and this time, I can’t watch because I’m too busy doing it with him.
“You were wrong, by the way,” he says once we’ve stopped laughing and fallen into a comfortable silence while we eat.
“Impossible. No, I wasn’t,” I say before I realize I have no idea what he’s even talking about. “Wrong about what?”
“I’ve never taken anyone to my spot at Starlight before.
I’ve never kissed anyone in the parking lot after a game.
I’ve never looked forward to going to work each day, knowing I’m going to see the beautiful woman who’s going to bring me a Dr Pepper even though she hates it and make me laugh when I least expect it.
I’ve never introduced anyone to my team or brought them to my house.
So you were wrong,” he says again. He puts his fork down on the table and stares at me with something I don’t recognize, but immediately love, burning behind molten lava eyes.
“You are my first for a lot of things too.”
The food is delicious, but it’s hard to maintain an appetite when your heart is blocking your throat.
“I’m not hungry anymore.” I push my plate to the side, picking off one last piece of chicken to give to an expectant Duke who hasn’t left my feet. “Your couch looks pretty comfortable though. How about we come up with another first and make out on it?”
I don’t have to ask twice.
Eventually, after kissing with my back pressed against the wall in the kitchen and then the living room…
and then the other living room wall, we finally make it to the couch.
And after we finish kissing and watching a show while Tate fills me in on the locker room antics the boys got up to last week, I fall asleep with my head on his shoulder and Duke’s head on my lap, and out of all the firsts of the night, I think that one is my favorite.