Chapter 20
Hayes
We work in silence for the rest of practice, but I catch MJ staring at Tanner several times when he isn’t looking.
The worry on her face is heartbreaking. It makes me want to wrap her up in my arms and protect her from the horrors of this world, but she’d probably slap me if I did that—and I would let her, especially after I lied to her about my tattoo. The day I got it, I was missing her so bad it felt like I was missing a physical limb. I needed something to remind me that she was real—that our time together was real. So I went out and found the first tattoo shop I could and inked her into my skin.
“Tanner,” I say, putting the last helmet back on the rack, “You did good work today. I’m proud of you.”
His shoulders straighten as the words sink into him, and I wonder how many times he’s ever heard them in his life—not enough if that one time has such an impact.
“Am I free to go?” he asks, his voice less rough than it was this morning.
“Yup. I’ll walk you out.” Looking at MJ, I ask, “Do you have all your stuff?”
She holds up her phone and coffee cup from this morning and nods, a smile playing on the edges of her mouth. Pulling my keys out of my pocket, I push open the door for MJ and Tanner to walk ahead of me out of the locker room, and once they are out, I turn back to lock the door.
“Same time again next week, Tanner.”
“We’ll see about that,” a man’s voice says from behind me.
I wait until I’m done pulling the keys from the door before I turn around to face him.
Eric stands leaning against the fence that surrounds the field with a woman by his side. His smirk is smug as he looks at me, but I pay him no mind. It’s Tanner who has caught my attention. Gone is the boy from a few minutes ago, walking out of here with his shoulders held high. In his place is a teenager who is so unsure of himself that he looks like he could melt into the pavement below our feet. I narrow my eyes, looking between him and Eric.
“What are you doing here, Eric?”
He smiles, his white teeth showing in a way that makes him look deranged. “I guess I should ask you the same thing. Tanner, here, said he had a one-on-one practice, so his mom and I thought we would come check it out. But from what I can see, no practice was going on. Why is the kid cleaning the locker room? That seems like a waste of talent to me. Rumor has it you’ve benched the entire varsity team, too. I would hate for the board to find out about this.”
The woman beside him shrinks into herself, and I wonder how much of her habits her son has taken up because when Eric’s stare flips to him, Tanner lowers his head and refuses to meet Eric’s eyes.
“Go ahead and follow through with the thinly veiled threat. There’s a reason that you weren’t offered the position, Westbrook.”
MJ’s hand runs up my arm and squeezes my bicep. It’s a touch of comfort, a way to keep me grounded, but it’s also a distraction—my brain short circuits when she’s near me. Add in touching me, and I nearly lose my mind.
The sneer melts off Eric’s lips, his eyes narrowing where MJ’s hand rests on me, and when he looks back at me, the look on his face is sinister.
“What would Langston have said about you sneaking around? His best friend and little sister—smells like betrayal to me.”
MJ flinches, pulling her hand off my arm and clenching it at her side.
Anger burns hot in my chest.
I ball my hands into fists, and the muscles of my forearm flex.
With one more word, I’m ready to punch him.
Tanner watches me.
What I choose to do next will either gain or lose his respect.
So I release my hands, curling my fingers in and out before I say, “Don’t let me hear Langston’s name come out of your mouth again. Being on the same team in high school doesn’t constitute knowing him. You will not disrespect his sister by pretending you did.”
For once, Eric makes the smart decision and remains quiet.
I look at his wife. It’s the first time I’ve let myself take her in since walking out of the locker room. She has a blonde bob that hits just above her shoulders, and even wearing heels, she’s much smaller than Eric, which is probably what made me think she was cowering from him. She’s older than Eric by several years—though the stiffness of her face suggests she’s had some work done. But when I meet her eyes, there’s a haughtiness simmering in them that I witnessed a million times growing up in this town. It’s the look that says, “Know your place. And it’s not above me.”
“My son needs to be on the field if he wants any chance at scouts looking at him this year. I expect you to coach football, Mr. Miller. Our family donates a lot of money to this school, and as such, we have a lot of influence. Keep that in mind.”
“Bet you don’t have a hospital with your name on it, though,” MJ mumbles to herself, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.
Tanner snickers, coughing to cover it up while his mom’s mouth drops open, offended.
“I’m sorry,” I say, stepping forward and offering my hand. “I missed your name.”
She takes it, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “Josephine.”
“Well, Josephine, you’ll find I don’t care what kind of money you have—never have, never will. I recognize that Tanner is your son, and I would be more than willing to sit down with both of you to discuss all of our concerns—specifically these headaches he’s been having. But my practices and the games following are just that—mine. I will run them according to the needs of my athletes, and from what I can see—this is something Tanner needs. I have to wonder, though, if you realize what your son needs.”
Rage burns in her eyes, but I don’t back down. If she won’t stand up for her son and recognize that something is happening with him, then I will.
“The doctor said he was fine. We are done here. Come along, Tanner.”
Taking hold of Tanner’s arm, she drags him behind her. If he wanted to, he’s big enough to put a stop to it, but he follows along with his head down. I wonder how much else he goes along with to keep the peace.
Eric looks to me, then MJ, growling as he says, “We aren’t done here.”
And with that parting shot, he follows his wife and stepson to the parking lot, leaving MJ and me behind.
MJ is quiet until they disappear, and then she says, “What an insufferable—”
“Careful, MJ,” I say with a smile.
She rolls her eyes but smiles back.
It’s the first moment that’s felt like we weren’t at each other’s throats since she came back, and all it took was an impossible socialite paired with the man she almost gave her first kiss to. The absurdity of everything that’s happened in the month she’s been back has me shaking my head.
MJ notices and eyes me warily.
“What?”
Shrugging, I look out over the football field. “I don’t know—it’s just this. I’ve missed your wit when it’s not directed toward me.”
Her smile turns brighter, and with it, my heart stutters in my chest. When she smiles like that, it makes it hard to breathe. “I always knew you loved my sparkling personality.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, MJ, I did.
There’s a pause, and even though I know I should keep my mouth shut and let us have this one moment, then move on—I can’t stop myself from asking, “Do you think we could ever be friends again?”
Her smile fades, and I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. “I don’t know, Hayes. Sometimes, I wish we could, but then I think about all the history between us. I think it would slowly kill me to be your friend.”
My body is stiff as I try not to rub at my chest. A knife stabbing me might have hurt less.
I tilt my lips in a smile that I hope she doesn’t look too closely at. “Do you think we could at least not be enemies anymore? I don’t know how many more injuries I can take from you.”
Both physical and mental.
With a shove at my arm, she rolls her eyes. “How about this—let’s agree to a truce while we figure things out with Tanner. After that, we’ll take it one day at a time.”
I force my lips higher. “Yeah, MJ. I think I can handle that.”
Even if it kills me.
______________________
“Go away, Hayes,” MJ says, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and swinging around to face me. The motion is so abrupt that I nearly run her over. I have to grab onto her arms to keep us both from slamming to the ground.
After Tanner and his dysfunctional family left, I walked MJ to her car, making small talk to ward off the thickening worry on her shoulders. In an effort to keep our truce—or at least that’s the excuse I’m going with—I’d asked her about her plans for the rest of the day.
I hadn’t expected her to say house hunting, and before I knew what was coming out of my mouth, I’d offered to go with her. She declined, but I didn’t miss the flash of loneliness on her face.
She tries to hide it, but MJ’s emotions are like an open book—or maybe I’ve just spent most of my life studying her.
So even though she declined, I threw her over my shoulder and put her in my truck. I shouldn’t enjoy the squeal she lets out every time I do that, but I do—and now I keep making a habit of it.
She kept insisting that she could do this alone, but if Langston were here, he wouldn’t let her, and neither will I.
“Are you listening to me?” she says, waving her hand in front of my face. “Go away.”
MJ puts her hands on her hips and glares at me, but I just grin, letting it seep under her skin and annoy her.
I can’t lie. I’ve missed this.
She’s always beautiful, but man, it’s a different kind of beautiful when she’s ready to knock me down a peg.
Leaning down so our cheeks are pressed together, I whisper. “Not happening, MJ.”
Then I pull back with a grin that I know makes her see red. Just because we are calling a truce doesn’t mean I can’t still enjoy getting under her skin.
Her hands fly to her hips, and her glare is enough to make me take a step back out of precaution for my nose. My hands fly up to cover just for extra protection.
I can finally breathe out of it.
Her glare turns icy.
“I’m not going to hit you, Hayes Miller. Stop acting like that.”
Tapping my finger against my nose, I shrug. “A man can never be too careful.”
She lunges at me, stomping her foot, and my smile nearly takes up my whole face.
I don’t remember the last time I smiled like this.
That’s a lie.
I do remember, and it turned out to be one of the worst days of my life.
The memory causes my stomach to turn.
“Fine,” I say, putting my hand down. “But I’m not leaving. What if you need someone to test out the couch for you? Who would do that if I leave?”
The house belongs to an elderly couple who moved to Florida. They still own the home because they always wanted to be a part of Benton Falls, but they didn’t want it to sit empty. They put it up for rent a few weeks ago, and even before we walk in, I know it’s perfect for MJ. Plus, it’s only a few houses down from mine—but I won’t tell her that. She’ll choose any other house in town if she finds out.
She rolls her eyes, “It’s not furnished, you idiot.”
Shrugging, I throw her a wicked smile—one that I know affects her just as much as she affects me because when I lean in, her breath hitches in her chest for a fraction of a second. I keep leaning forward until our faces are only inches apart, and then I whisper, “Either you walk in, or I carry you in. Which will it be, sweetheart?”
She narrows her eyes and spins, stomping off towards the front door.
With a sadistic chuckle, I follow along behind her.
Three stairs lead to a small front porch that will fit two rocking chairs at most. The white siding and wooden door give it a classic Southern look. It’s quaint—not flashy like her mom and dad’s house, but MJ always said she wanted a home that was warm and welcoming as soon as you stepped in the door. I never told her that any house she was in would feel like that—at least for me.
MJ finds the key under the mat where the owners said it would be and puts it in the lock. The officer inside me cringes at the lack of safety, but at the same time, we are in Benton Falls, where the crime rate mainly consists of a wayward cow escaping and destroying someone’s yard.
A gasp slips past MJ’s lips as she turns the knob and steps inside, and I grit my teeth against the way that sound washes over my skin. I would give my life savings to have her look at me like she’s looking at this house. A sense of awe is written on her features. It makes her look younger—more innocent—and makes me want to wrap her up in my arms and block out the world so she never loses that look.
I follow her into the house, taking it in as we go. It’s small, but that only adds to the charm. The front door opens straight into the living room, and just past that is the kitchen. Off to the right, there’s a door that I assume leads to the only bedroom in the house, based on the size from the outside. The laundry room must be off the back of the kitchen, along with a half bath.
MJ looks around the house, a small smile growing as she takes it all in.
There’s a funny pressure in my chest as I watch her, and I wonder, not for the first time in her presence, if I’m having a heart attack.
When she turns to me, that smile on her face and life in her eyes for the first time since she’s been back, I’m nearly brought to my knees. I used to dream about that smile being a part of my life. Now we can hardly be in the same room.
She studies me, and her brows dip, conflict shining in her eyes. “Thank you.”
The words are strained—as if they pained her to say them. Her blue eyes pierce through me.
“For what?” I ask, confused.
She doesn’t drop her gaze but continues staring at me as she says, “For believing me about Tanner—just, thank you.”
“You deserved for someone to hear your concerns this time.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows hard and drops her gaze.
“Can I ask you a question?” She asks
“Always,” I say, leaning my shoulder against the wall, and I mean it too. I will always answer any question she has.
“How did you do it—go back to football, I mean.”
And there it is—the topic we’ve avoided talking about.
There was a time when we both loved this sport, but it took more away from us than it gave back. That turned into bitter hate, and that hate led to making decisions that shaped the rest of our lives.
“Honestly—Lily was part of that decision,” I say, and MJ winces. “Not like that—it’s never been like that for Lily and me, but she told me about the pressure some of these kids are under. I— I just want to help them realize that there’s more to life than football.”
MJ’s laugh comes out as a huff.
“So you took the job to get kids to quit football?” She asks. “I’m pretty sure you’ll get fired for that.”
I roll my eyes. “No, brat, I took it because I wanted them to realize that they can love the game, but not at the expense of themselves.”
MJ frowns, studying the tips of her shoes.
“You know,” she says, “the irony of my dad pushing Langston to love football so much is that he already had a kid that did. Sure, I was never going to play football in the NFL like a boy, but he could have had a kid to love the game with him—if he had ever bothered to look.”
My heart breaks for her. Her whole life, she tried to be seen by her mom and dad, and they never did because they never took the time to look.
A question sits on the tip of my tongue. It has bothered me since her first day back in town, but I didn’t think it was my place to ask.
But right now, I think I have to.
“Why did you come back, MJ?”
Her smile is sad when she says, “Because I’m good at failing people and making the wrong choices.”
The pure dejection in that one statement makes me crumble from the inside. “That’s not true, Little Harrison.”
Her eyes snap up to mine. There’s an anger there that’s been brewing for a long time.
“Why do you even care?” She snaps. “After that night, I became the least of your problems.”
The only excuse for what I do next is a temporary loss of my sanity.
Surging forward, I stop when our faces are just inches apart. Her breath catches in her throat as her eyes track my lips when I say, “Because no matter how hard I’ve tried these past six years, there hasn’t been a day that you haven’t crossed my mind. I care, MJ. I’ve always cared.”
Then her lips are on mine, and I’m not sure if I kissed her or she kissed me, but I know this is what forever should have felt like.