Chapter 19 Thank You
Thank You
The energy on campus was electric following a dramatic and unexpected win by the football team.
“I still can’t believe that boy caught that interception,” said Phyllis’s husband, Carl, as they, Ashley, and I followed the crowd of spectators to an afterparty in the fieldhouse.
If Phyllis was a hen, Carl was definitely a goose with his long, skinny neck and overly-large nose, not to mention the honking sound he made when he laughed.
“I don’t think you were half as surprised as he was,” I said. “He stared at that ball in his hands for a full three seconds before it occurred to him to start running.”
“Eighty-two yards,” Ashley said, shaking her head, still in disbelief. “I don’t think he’s ever run that far in his life. Maclin is a lineman for a reason.” Maclin was nearly as tall as Jack and probably fifty pounds heavier.
“Mark my words, he’ll still be talking about that play at his twentieth school reunion,” Phyllis said, and I had to agree.
Once the final buzzer sounded, parents and students had swarmed the field to congratulate Maclin and the rest of the team.
A couple of people even tried to lift him on their shoulders, but that only lasted a few seconds.
I could feel the music thumping before I could hear it.
Carl held the fieldhouse door for us, and I was sure I would be knocked over by the bass at any second.
The indoor track was packed with students and parents, talking, dancing, and celebrating the victory.
I searched for familiar faces, but couldn’t find any in the low light.
I smiled to hide my disappointment.
“This way,” Ashley yelled over the noise and led us through a side door into the smaller practice gym. Here, the music wasn’t quite so deafening. Teachers and other staff members stood in little groups chatting and drinking…
“Is that champagne?” I asked, grinning.
“A little celebration for the staff,” Phyllis explained. “It’s tradition.”
I shrugged and decided to roll with it. If Phyllis and Ashley said it was okay, then who was I to argue? It had been a long, stressful day, and I was more than ready to take it easy for the night. I accepted a plastic coupe from Ashley with gratitude.
Part of me was still in shock over the parent-teacher conference, even though that had been hours ago.
I came in with nerves drawn tighter than a bow string.
Then, there was another tantalizing almost-kiss with Jack, followed by his passionate defense of my abilities.
I had been ready to pick back up where we left off when all the parents were gone, but Jack had left too.
Did he regret kissing me again? Did he regret saying those things? Maybe both?
I had caught a glimpse of him with Alan at the game, but I failed to get his attention. I needed to know what was going through his head. I needed to know where things stood. I promised myself that I would talk to him at the next opportunity, no matter what.
After two cups of champagne, my body was looser than it had been in weeks—maybe months. I basked in the good vibes that flowed around me like water.
“Do you want another round?” I asked after Ashley finished off her drink. She waved me away, and I went in search of a refill for myself.
Several cases of champagne sat on a folding table.
I peeked into a couple of the open boxes, but they were empty.
I tucked them under the table out of the way, then turned my attention to one of the unopened boxes.
I had just managed to free a bottle and was in the process of uncorking, when I heard a deep voice next to me.
“Here. Let me.”
Gooseflesh bloomed on my arms, and a chill ran down my spine as I turned to find Jack standing right next to me.
I was so surprised to see him that I said, “Alright,” and let him take the bottle from my hands with no thought to the fact that I was more than capable of opening champagne.
My eyes devoured him while he worked at the cork. He looked positively edible tonight in a cream, cable knit sweater and dark jeans. His hair, which had been perfectly styled earlier today, now fell in soft waves around his temples.
When the bottle popped open, he looked up and met my gaze. I sublimated where I stood, but I returned the shy smirk he offered and held out my cup for him to fill.
I took a sip and steeled my nerves. This was my chance to talk to him about this afternoon. “Thank you,” I said.
“No problem,” he said and took a sip from his own cup.
“I meant for earlier today.” Butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. “Can we go somewhere quieter? I can barely hear myself think in here.”
“Sure,” he said. He looked completely at ease, a perfect contrast to how I was feeling. “I know a place. Follow me.”
The butterflies were going wild as I followed Jack out of the gym and down a dark hallway. He opened a door I had never seen before and beckoned for me to follow him in. The music dulled to a manageable level as the door clicked closed behind us. I could finally hear myself think.
By the yellow glow of a security light, I could see thick padding on the walls and floor.
“Where are we?” I asked, wandering deeper into the strange room.
“This is the wrestling room,” he explained. His voice was close. He had followed me into the center of the room.
“I’ve never been in here before,” I said. “Was this room here when we were at school?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I didn’t spend much time in the field house back in the day.”
I hummed noncommittally and took a long sip of champagne while gathering my thoughts. “Well, thanks for bringing me here. I wanted to talk to you about this afternoon with the parents.”
He stood up taller, shoulders drawing back. The yellow light outlined his heartbreakingly perfect figure.
“Look, I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I know it wasn’t my place to speak for you. You’re more than capable of defending yourself. Not that you really needed defending. That guy was totally out of line. It’s no wonder his kid is an asshole too—”
“Wait,” I said, cutting off his rambling. “You think I’m mad?”
His brows pulled together, and he ran a hand along his jaw. “Well, aren’t you? You absolutely have the right to be.”
I couldn’t contain my huff of laughter. I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and placed a hand on his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, and his dark eyes dropped to mine.
“I was going to thank you.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Thank me? For what?”
“Of course. For all the nice things you said. I totally froze when that guy came after me. They were all judging me. I felt like a complete idiot—”
He frowned and grabbed my wrist, holding my hand to his chest. “You’re not an idiot—”
“I know that, but that’s how I felt. But then you spoke up for me. It was incredibly kind, what you said. I wanted you to know how much I appreciated it.” God, I hoped he could tell I was serious.
“You could have just gotten me another LEGO…”
His heart was pounding in his chest. I could feel it under my palm. Mine was speeding up to match. It was going to break through my sternum at the rate it was going.
No one was around. It was just me and this intelligent, beautiful, considerate man. We had gotten off to a rocky start when we met. But so much had changed over the last several weeks.
I wanted to be closer to him. I wanted to kiss him so badly that it was almost a physical pain.
I could do it.
I could do it right now.
“I wanted to give you something a little more personal than a LEGO.”
I slid my hand up his chest to loop around his neck. He let me pull him down until his warm breath ghosted across my lips.
“Fucking hell,” he whispered as he leaned in.
The kiss was light at first, tentative, unlike the last time we had found ourselves in this position. Just a brush, the barest graze of his lips on mine.
Then I slipped my fingers up into his hair and pulled him down to me, so I could plant my lips firmly against his. This time, he did not hesitate to reciprocate.
We were doing this again.
Our empty champagne cups dropped to the mat, unwanted and forgotten. Now free, his hands found my hips and slowly began to roam up the curves of my body. Mapping. Exploring.
He pulled away for a moment, long enough to speak a few words. “This thank you seems like more than I deserve.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” I replied, lips pressing against his jaw. He groaned as my teeth skimmed down his neck, and a blast of molten heat dropped straight into my core at the sound.
He wrapped my hair around his fist and gently pulled so my face tilted back up to his. He kissed me deeply, leaning into me as I arched back.
My brain switched off. Just completely powered down, and my hormones took the wheel. My hands, driven by pure oxytocin, trailed down his body. When they reached the bottom of the sweater, one dipped underneath, sliding back up across the flat of his stomach.
He gasped, and his head jerked back.
“Is this okay?” I asked, suddenly afraid I had overstepped.
“Princess, anything you do is okay.”
His eyes caught the dim light and shone like fire. He meant what he said. He was okay with this. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted me like I wanted him. I decided to test my theory.
I hooked my thumbs under the hem of his sweater and slowly lifted, revealing inch after stunning inch of skin until his entire chest was exposed. I found his eyes again as I leaned in, asking once again for silent permission to taste.
He answered by squeezing my hips.
I could feel the rumble through his chest as I pressed my mouth to his sternum, peppering him with open-mouth kisses. His pleasure was fuel to my fire. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to get a little relief from the ache.
I worked my way lower, kissing and biting down his abs, past his navel, and to the top of his jeans. I popped open the button and was just about to pull down his zipper, when he spoke.
“Stop,” he rasped, and I froze.