Chapter 18
Jordan
Ibring my fist up to cover my yawn. It was a cross-country flight and we’re in a new time zone, but the time difference has given us a few of those hours back.
So even though it’s early in the afternoon, it’s already been a long day.
At this rate, I’ll be lucky to stay awake through the second inning of the Foxhounds game tonight.
When I called Mike’s mom to let her know my schedule was going to allow me to fly out and catch the Idaho game, she acted like I told her she’d won the lottery.
I said I’d book a hotel, but Mrs. Miller wouldn’t hear of it.
She insisted I stay in Mike’s old room, since he’ll be bunking with the team and Danielle stayed back to help Alice through a family emergency.
I believe Mrs. Miller’s exact words were, “Don’t be ridiculous.
You’re family, Jordan. Why on Earth would you pay those crazy hotel fees when there’s an empty bed and a hot meal waiting for you right here?
” Who am I to argue with logic like that?
Madison was nice enough to pick us up at the airport and drive us to the house, and Mandy is up front with her.
I’m in the back seat with Shelley squeezed in next to me.
Much like our seats on the plane, the small space in the back of this sedan wasn’t designed for two tall bodies.
Between all our grazing touches on the flight and the way her knee is lightly knocking into mine every time we hit a bump in the road, my nerve endings might as well be live wires.
Every cell in my body is on high alert when she’s near me.
“Home sweet home,” Madison says as the car slows.
I’ve never been to Mike’s parents’ place before this trip, but I know the Millers well now.
They’re nice people with a real all-American aesthetic.
So far, from my limited exposure to their home state, Idaho seems very…
blond. When the car pulls up to their house, I’m not surprised to see the decorative seasonal flag on the porch or the hanging flower baskets.
Mrs. Miller is already waiting by the mailbox, waving.
“I share my location with her,” Shelley explains, unbuckling her seatbelt. “She was probably watching us the whole time.” She rolls her eyes, but I think it’s nice to have someone excited to see you come home.
I exit the car and grab both of our bags out of the trunk, setting them down on the curb while Shelley’s mom greets her. Then Mrs. Miller approaches me with her arms spread wide, looking for a hug.
“Jordan!” She reaches up to wrap her arms tightly around my neck. “I’m so glad you decided to stay with us this weekend.” She plants a kiss on my cheek, then uses her thumb to wipe away the lipstick mark.
“Thank you for having me.” I offer her another small squeeze. She nods and pulls away to reach up again to pat my cheek.
“Go ahead upstairs. Shelley can show you to your room. I’ll let Dad know you’re all here,” she says. “He’s with a client, but he’ll be finished with work in a few hours.”
Mrs. Miller heads in through the front door, and I grab our bags as Shelley and her sisters show me to a side entrance leading up to the family’s quarters.
Mike’s told me about this place, but the old three-story Gothic-style home is bigger than I imagined.
It looks like it’s a remodeled church. Back in Virginia, a property like this would probably be called an estate.
According to Mike, it’s been in their family for four generations.
The main floor on the ground level serves as a funeral parlor.
It’s a large open space that can be used for services, plus a small office, a powder room, and a private mourning room.
There’s a wooden staircase, and I follow behind Shelley, my eyes zeroed in on her swaying hips as we ascend each step.
The second and third floors are set up like any other house, with the lower level being the main living area.
There’s a kitchen, dining area, bathroom, and den.
The bedrooms and two additional bathrooms are up on the third floor.
It’s a hike, but we make our way up all the wide, winding stairs, and Shelley points to an ornate wooden door on the left.
“That’s you.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I hand over her suitcase, and she takes it into a room across the hall, closing her door and leaving me staring at the carved wooden slab for a few seconds longer than necessary.
Regaining my senses, I turn and toss my stuff onto the bottom mattress of my best friend’s childhood bunk bed.
There’s a framed family photo sitting on the dresser, reminding me exactly how much of an asshole I would be if I tried anything with his little sister.
But the truth is, I don’t know if I have the strength to stay away much longer.
I’ve tried. I thought these feelings would fade into the background if I ignored them, but they’ve only grown.
Spending the day with her on the plane and the overwhelming need I had to comfort her when she was afraid only confirmed it.
The pull Shelley has on me is stronger than a rip current, and I’m getting tired of fighting to swim against the tide.
Mrs. Miller calls up to us, “I’m sure you’re both exhausted from the flight, but don’t forget to set an alarm if you decide to take a nap. We’re leaving for the game in a few hours.”
A nap sounds like a great idea. I nod off almost immediately and don’t wake up until I hear the girls arguing and shuffling around in the bathroom as they fight over the mirror.
When I step into the hall, I almost collide with Shelley as she backward-stomps out of the bathroom, growling at her sisters. “I said I needed five more minutes.”
“You can curl your hair anywhere there’s an outlet! I need to get in here,” Mandy fires back.
Shelley turns, still not seeing me, and I grab her elbow to keep her steady. The contact takes her by surprise, and she gasps, tripping over her own feet. Before she falls, I manage to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close to me.
“Steady now.”
“I’m fine,” she whispers. “You can let go.”
It’s harder than it should be, but I manage to loosen my hold enough for her to slip out.
She’s wearing a pink Foxhounds jersey tied up on the side and tight bike shorts that hug her thighs.
The five on her back is her brother’s number.
I know Mrs. Miller had matching jerseys custom-made for the whole family as soon as Mike signed his contract.
Of course Shelley should be wearing a Foxhounds jersey tonight.
But I have to clear my throat and tap my fist against my chest because there’s an uncomfortable burning inside me.
New fantasy unlocked: Before I retire, I want to see her in my jersey.
“Let’s get a move on!” Mr. Miller calls from downstairs, so we all file out of the house and into the family minivan to head over to the stadium.
◆◆◆
The league added five additional teams this year, and there’s a low hum of excitement in the air from the minute we pull into the parking area.
Everything is new. The stadium, the lights, the vendors, down to the athletes themselves.
Idaho is here for it. It seems like every person in the county will be heading into the stands tonight.
Tour buses from big companies and passenger vans painted with church logos pull up alongside campers and pick-up trucks for the tailgate.
Mr. Miller opens the trunk of the minivan and gets to work setting up a pop-up tent while Mrs. Miller unloads a crockpot of sloppy joe meat and a foil pan filled with chocolate chip cookie bars.
We share dinner with some friendly parking lot neighbors who offer chili, hot dogs, and JELL-O shots while Mike’s mom proudly tells everyone within earshot that her son is playing tonight.
Finally, it’s time to head into the stadium for the game.
“How many of those cookie bars did you have?” Shelley whispers as she slides up next to me. It’s windy tonight, and she’s wearing a light jacket over her jersey. “I stole a few extras. They’re in my pocket for emergencies.”
I lean close to whisper back. “I won’t tell. Pretty sure I had like five. Think your mom will give me her recipe?”
She scoffs playfully. “My mom share her cookie bar recipe? Not a chance. She won’t even give it to Mandy.”
The fielders are starting to take their positions, and Shelley cups her hands around her mouth to shout, “That’s my brother!” as we take our seats. Mike looks up and smiles, nodding in our direction.
It’s a low-scoring game. Even I can admit, baseball is a lot more fun to play than it is to watch.
During Mike’s at-bat in the top of the third inning, he makes contact but it’s a pop-up easily caught by Idaho’s pitcher. As he returns to the dugout, Shelley says she needs to use the bathroom, and her sisters decide to tag along, vacating their seats.
“I’ll come with you,” I say as I get up to follow them.
After using the facilities, Mandy and Maddy come out of the restroom together and head back to the stands. Not wanting Shelley to be left behind, I hang back. It only takes a minute for her to reappear.
“Sorry. There was a line. You didn’t have to wait.”
I shrug and tuck my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “Did you want to get some cotton candy or something?”
She laughs. “Are you seriously still hungry? I know I said I could always eat, but I think I’m good after that tailgate.
And I’m not letting you pay twenty bucks for cotton candy when I have pocket cookies.
” She pats her jacket pocket and effortlessly pulls a chuckle out of me before she gets more serious.
“But I do want to take a walk and see if I can find a quiet corner for a second. It’s a little overstimulating in here, if I’m being honest.”
“Can I join you, or do you want some space?”
“Sure. Come on. Let’s explore a little.”
It doesn’t take us long to discover the stadium actually has a designated Quiet Room behind thick glass doors.
The signs on the walls invite anyone who needs a break to come in and get out of the noise for a few minutes.
There are headphones lining the left wall and a bin of dark sunglasses available, along with a small plaque that explains how everything is sterilized between each use.
Shelley runs her fingers over the sign but doesn’t take any of the items they’re offering.
“This is cool,” she muses. “It must help a lot of kids. I wish stuff like this had been around when I was younger.”
“It’s nice,” I agree.
We’re the only people here, and she sits down on a long vinyl bench, which is upholstered in the orange and yellow Idaho Talons colors.
Shelley leans her head back against the wall, closing her eyes and inhaling a deep breath through her nose.
This window into her private moment makes me feel like I’m intruding, but I can’t take my eyes off her.
“Come sit.” She pats the space to her right, eyes still closed. I cross the room to accept the invitation, sitting down next to her.
Shelley pivots toward me, and her eyes open while she lifts to tuck one leg under herself. “It was really nice of you to come out to support Mike. It must be hard for you to take time away from your team during the season.”
My focus falls to her lips, which are painted with a shimmery pink gloss that steals my attention. I’m so tired of fighting this.
“I have a confession. I may have had an ulterior motive for agreeing to this particular trip.”
“Oh? Do tell.” Those pink lips turn up on one side in a crooked half-smile.
She’s so close. Our legs are touching, and with no barrier like an armrest between us, we’re even closer here now than we were on the plane or out in the stands.
“Your mom called me family, and that’s sort of my kryptonite.”
Her smile widens to brighten her whole face, and it warms me from the inside. “Well, she’s right. You’re stuck with us now.”
“I could get used to that.”
She nods. “Good.”
“Shelley?” I take a risk and lean in until my lips are next to her ear.
“Hmm?” She tilts her head, maybe subconsciously, exposing more of her neck, and I have no choice but to inhale. I don’t know the first thing about how to tell which flower it is, but her perfume smells fresh and floral like a damn bouquet.
“Are you getting sick of fighting this pull between us? Because I am,” I admit.
Her soft inhale is the only hint of surprise she offers before her tone shifts to a sultry tease. “So don’t.”
And there goes the last tiny fragment of my willpower. All the reasons we said we shouldn’t do this are still true. But I’m tired of pretending I’m strong enough to deny this.
“If you don’t want me to kiss you now, you need to tell me,” I repeat her words from the hotel, praying she doesn’t stop it like I did that night. I’ll get up now and walk away if she needs me to. It will be hard, but I’ll do it, if that’s what she wants.
Her face turns toward mine again, agonizingly slowly.
“I’ll never tell you not to kiss me, Jordan.”
That’s all I need to hear to close the final inch of space between us and pull her into me.
One hand finds her waist while the other tangles in her hair, and I inhale her like she’s oxygen while our mouths explore, tentatively at first, then with more fervor until she’s tugging gently on my bottom lip with her teeth, fisting her hands in my shirt.
Still clinging tightly to the fabric, she pulls away hesitantly. Her eyes are closed when she starts to ask, “What about—”
“I was wrong,” I tell her quickly. “I’m sorry. About everything. I know it’s complicated, Shelley, but I should have put you first. Mike won’t like it, but you were right. He doesn’t get a say here. I’d really like to try—”
Her mouth is on mine again before I finish the thought. After a few more magical minutes, she sighs contentedly and pulls back just enough to look at me while she flattens her hand on my chest. “And here I thought my pocket cookies were going to be the sweetest part of tonight.”
I smile and put my hand over hers. “If you’re telling me I rank higher than those cookie bars, I’m taking it as the highest compliment.”
“You should. But we need to get back out there. They must be wondering where we are.”
“Okay. How do you want to play this?”
“I think we should keep it to ourselves for now. Tonight isn’t about us.”
I nod. As much as I’d love to claim her as mine in front of the world, I can understand Shelley wanting to take this slow and see where it goes.
“Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.” I squeeze her hand and steal one more kiss before I escort her back to the stands, where we sit inches apart, next to her parents, while I try to focus on the game and pretend I didn’t just sneak off to make out with their daughter.
The night sky is dark over the field, but my whole world is suddenly brighter.