Chapter 7 - Donovan
Donovan
Over the next few weeks, Stella and I fall into a steady routine, becoming inseparable.
I grab her favorite latte on my drive into work, and we walk in silence toward the school's front doors, sipping our drinks and letting the caffeine work its magic.
I make a quick detour to the office to check my box for anything important. Then we enjoy the slow stroll down the stale-smelling hallway. We might not say much during this part of the day, but there’s a peacefulness between us. It feels like this is where we’re supposed to be.
With Friday slowly creeping closer, Stella and I still haven’t talked about what’s next.
Spending two weeks in Agave Hills and two weeks in Virginia over the next few months will be miserable.
But what happens when the project is over? When will Stella execute this production flawlessly?
The thought weighs heavily on my mind, but I won’t let it taint the time I have with her.
We’re just getting back to us. I’ll keep holding on to our quiet lunch dates in my office. The dinners we cook together in her kitchen, the nervous touches, and the kisses I steal every chance I get.
Today is the first day of practice. We’ll be on the field warming up and getting a general feel for the teams. Wednesdays are usually for freshmen and JV, but today everyone’s out there. I wasn’t a part of summer training camps or tryouts, so I don’t know where any of the players stand.
Standing on the sidelines in my athletic gear, clipboard in hand, I’m feverishly jotting down notes while the team runs through drills. My baseball hat isn’t doing a damn thing to keep the beating sun out of my eyes.
Somewhere between passing drills, I hear murmurs ripple through the team, and heads start turning toward the stands.
What the hell has these boys all riled up?
I blow a long whistle. “Crawford, let’s go. What’s got you so distracted?”
When I turn to look, it makes total sense.
Midway up in the bleachers, Stella is sitting with a book in her hands. It feels like we’ve stepped into a time portal, because this was always my favorite sight to see.
Once I get the team to stop gawking and focus again, we finally make it through the rest of practice. But one of the freshmen speaks up and asks the question that’s clearly on every player’s mind.
“Who’s the gothic hottie in the stands?”
Coach Riggins chokes on the water he’s drinking, then laughs. “Yeah, Coach D’Angelo. Who is the gothic hottie in the stands?”
I bark out that practice is over and send the team running to the locker room.
Riggins walks over and claps me on the back.
“I never thought I’d see the day again where Stella Carrington’s in the stands reading a book, waiting for you to finish practice.
Feels like déjà vu.” He takes a step away, then adds, “Also, kid, you ran an excellent practice today. Keep it up, and I might actually retire in a few years.”
I grab my bag off the ground and head toward Stella. She’s still reading, completely absorbed. I reach for the book and carefully take it from her hands, making sure not to lose her page.
I glance at the cover and flip it over. “What are you reading about, Stella? Dragons?” I ask, teasing.
She tries to grab it back, but I keep it out of reach.
Her laughter rings out around us, sweet and clear, as she jumps to try and steal it back. After a few tries, she gives up and wraps her arm around me, tucking her head into my shoulder.
“It’s a fantasy novel about dragons and humankind fighting wars as allies,” she says, already launching into an explanation about the world she’s been escaping into.
I could listen to her talk about the book all day. I am hanging on by a thread to every word she says.
“Do you want to read it when I leave on Friday?” she asks.
That has to be a good sign, right? She wouldn’t leave her favorite book with me unless she intended to see me again. Right?
I turn and start walking backward, facing her as she moves forward, and take her hands in mine. I need to feel her touch.
“Stella, I’ll read anything you recommend. If you like it, I’ll like it. But does this mean you want to see me again in two weeks?”
She stops walking. Her hands slip from mine, and I immediately miss them.
“That is… um… something I wanted to talk to you about.” Her words come out unsteady.
“I know we haven’t talked about where we stand or where we see ourselves in the future.
We just fell back into the familiarity of each other.
And maybe that scared me.” Her voice trembles, tears slipping down her cheeks.
“I don’t know what the future holds, Donovan.
But the one thing I do know is that I want to find out with you.
I’ve spent too long hiding my feelings, missing out on time with you, and I’m not doing that anymore. ”
She takes a breath, steadying herself. “I want you. I want your kisses, your phone calls, the silly pictures, and the sweet texts. I want to know you’re standing by me, that you’re proud of me.
” Her hand clutches her chest like she’s trying to hold herself together.
“I want to wake up next to you because you feel like home. I want your last name. I want to watch our babies grow up. I know long-distance is hard, but I don’t want to waste another minute without you. ”
How can a day feel so long but go by so fucking fast? It doesn’t even make sense, but that was how my Thursday went.
I am dreading tomorrow since Stella will be heading home, but I am excited to end the school day today.
I am taking us to Agave and Iron, the local steakhouse that opened a few years ago.
It quickly became a town favorite, from first dates and celebrations to local celebrities; it's usually pretty challenging to get a table.
Since today is Thursday, there are only a few businessmen out tonight with clients, trying to kiss ass. Our server, Maddie, was able to get us a table quickly.
I pull out the chair for Stella and carefully tuck her in closer to the table. We laugh and reminisce over our beautifully cooked steak, baked potatoes, and garlic-roasted green beans.
We split the agave lime cheesecake, and once we are done and overly stuffed, I settle the tab, and we make our way out into the hot desert heat. 105 at night is outrageous.
As we make our way down the winding sidewalk to the car, our fingers intertwined, All of Me by John Legend comes on.
I pull her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her.
We begin swaying back and forth to the song, not caring about anyone around us.
I lean my head down so it's resting against hers as we dance, and I start singing, “'Cause all of me loves all of you. Love your curves and all your edges. All of your perfect imperfections.”
She draws me in closer, her hands slowly glide down my back, reaching into my back pockets so her hands rest on my ass.
I draw her lips into a deep, crushing kiss.
I am so fucking in love with this woman that just the feel of her hands sliding down my back sets me on fire.
I can feel my cock starting to harden in my pants, and there isn’t a goddamn thing I can do about it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk.
I lean in, my voice thick with need, lips brushing her ear. “Can I come home with you tonight?” My mouth finds her neck, trailing heat down to her shoulder.
A whimper comes out before she breathlessly says, “Yes. Fuck, please, Donovan, take me home right now.”