Second Chance: A Military Football Romance by Claire Adams (2)

"Your promising future in professional sports," he said, a little sarcastically. "You put down the football and picked up an assault rifle instead." I smirked.

"I didn't quit. I took a sabbatical."

"Too bad. You were good."

"Were? I still am," I said.

"I believe you. Too bad the army got you. You could have gone pro," he said. "Probably would, too. Drafted right out of college." I didn't know why he was talking like all this shit had passed me by already. I was young and uninjured, with practice I'd be able to maintain all my stats, maybe even improve them.

"I'm not retired yet," I said.

"You're gonna try go pro?"

"That was the plan this whole time. It hasn't changed."

"Good luck. If anyone deserves it, you do." I thanked him. "Bet whatever team you got on would just love that they got a vet."

"If I got through boot camp, pro training has nothing on me. I'm doing it, Don. You'll see," I said, believing my own conviction.

"And, you know what that means," he said, taking a swig of his beer.

"What?"

"Women," he announced, smirking. I grunted, taking a drink.

"I don't know, sounds like too much distraction," I said.

"Distraction? You'd say no to easy, free tail?"

"I'm not interested in that, Don."

"Why? You're single, what's the problem?"

"Do you remember Ron?" I asked.

"Ron," he paused, "Veronica? Your ex?" I nodded. I wished he wouldn't call her that, though. It was true, but I was hoping I could change that. "I thought it was over. You told me that broke it off with her. When was that? Last year?"

"We went out Saturday," I said.

"Are you serious? Why the hell would you do that?"

"My sister set us up. I didn't know it was going to be Ron; she didn't know it was going to be me."

"But it's over, right? You're not going back down that road?"

"It was a good road," I said, lightly.

"You can't go into the league with a girlfriend – that shit doesn’t work. With all the girls around, she'll be jealous as hell. Drive you crazy."

"Have you ever met a girl you would stop sleeping around for, Don?"

"Nope. And, I hope I never do. Did you take a couple knocks in the head over in Afghanistan? What happened to you? Don't tell me you're in love with that girl."

"I was when I left."

"Even if it seems like it, Rome, she isn’t the only one."

"I’m not trying to step on your toes," I joked.

"No need to worry about that, either. There's plenty to go around," he said.

We were different in a few ways, but this was the one thing I one hundred percent couldn't relate to. Even before Ron and I had gotten together, hanging out with a bunch of different girls really wasn't my thing. I didn't know how he did it. More was good for him, but I was more than happy with just one. When you find the right one, you don't need to keep looking, I thought.

I had found mine, but we were in a weird place right now. This place where it was like I had lost her, but I had her at the same time. We had breached that first barrier and talked to each other again after the time apart. It was obvious we had things to clear up between us, and I was counting on seeing her again so we could talk.

I didn't tell Don that because he didn't get it. He'd just encourage me that pussy was all the same, and if you fucked the girl from behind, you could pretend you were with anyone you wanted.

I left after one more beer; sandy blonde waitress wouldn't get off for another half hour, and Don decided to wait for her so they could leave together.

That shit was so foreign to me. I hadn't tried to pick a girl up since before Ron and I had gotten together. Even with her, I had had to flirt and get her to like me, but it had been sort of easy. We had been on the same campus every day, not this shit, picking up strangers in bars. If anything, good for him for not going home alone tonight. I knew I was. Maybe this next girl would be the one who locked him down, but I wasn't holding my breath.

I texted Tiffany when I got to my car. She got back to me right away. I went home first, but I was heading out immediately. I had a delivery to make. Meeting people when you were still at school was easy. You kind of had this pool of people that you saw all the time that you could take your pick from; it hadn't been hard shooting my shot with Ron.

Things were different now. I had to try. I knew what I wanted, but I understood her pushback. I had to let her come to me. I had to make it safe again.

Her new place wasn't that far from where her old one had been, same area in town, close to school. She lived two floors up in 3C. I put the box down and walked away. She was probably home. If I tried her door, she would probably open it up. It was tempting, but I had to take a step back and let her do what she needed to do. I walked out of her building and drove home. She'd see it tomorrow morning.

 

Chapter Twelve

Veronica

I put my purse over my shoulder, looking through it to make sure I had thrown the list of books I needed to get in there. The cheapest one on the list was a cool $200. I only had to purchase two, the others I could short loan from the library, but textbook costs were no joke. Education costs, in general, were no joke but hey, it was supposed to be an investment, right?

Right.

I had half a mind to buy the books, copy my reading material, then return then to the bookstore when I was done. I walked out the door of my apartment, still rifling through my purse. I stopped when my foot kicked something hard. I looked down, slipping my purse strap back up onto my shoulder. I frowned picking up the box in front of me, looking for a name or apartment number, something that would tell me it wasn't put in front of my door by accident.

There was nothing on it. It wasn't taped up or anything the way boxes came in the mail. I could just lift the lid and see whether there was anything inside it. I mean, it had been on my doorstep, chances were it was for me.

I lifted the lid outside my apartment, just in case. Inside was a single sheet of paper. I took it out, putting the box on the floor. Handwriting in blue ink covered one side of the sheet; a man's writing, if I had to guess – not messy, but not really fine calligraphy, either.

Ron, after all this time, you're still my favorite person to see on a Saturday night. There was something there, and I want to know that you felt it, too. Apologizing for what I did will never be enough. I'll be at our spot every day at noon, ready whenever you are.

It was mine. I knew it was the first word I read. I knew who had sent it, too, even though he hadn't signed his name. I took the box and note inside, leaving them on an end table before heading out again. I didn't want this right now. I was busy. Not only that, I had moved on.

A whole year later after he dumped me for a bullshit reason he could have avoided, and now he wanted to talk. I was pissed getting into my car. It wasn't fair.

Maybe I wasn't as over him as I’d thought that I was since all it had taken to plunge me back into my feelings was him showing up again, but honestly, I had been at least some of the way there. I had made some progress – had started seeing other guys, moved into a new place which he shouldn't have had the address to, gotten my shit together and moved on with my life. This was selfish. He wanted to show up again after a year and act like after what he did, he still had a right to my time.

My annoyance must have been apparent on my face because the man who sold me my textbooks told me to smile, it was summer and a pretty girl like me shouldn't be feeling so down. It wasn't fair. Roman couldn't talk about things like “our spot” anymore. He couldn't drag me back to that place where I had thought everything was good between us because obviously, things hadn't been as good as I had thought.

Peeved, I called Tiffany to see if she was home. I liked living alone but I could see the advantage of staying at home and at times, specifically when rent was due at my place, I envied her a little for staying with her dad.

When I arrived, she yelled at me from inside the house to let myself in. She had been in the kitchen putting groceries away from the shopping trip she had just come home from. I had had breakfast, but I didn't turn down the coffee she offered when she joined me in the living room.

I had never met her mom, but there were signs of her all around the house. Pictures of her on the walls with the rest of the family, carefully placed art and decor that were an obvious woman's touch. Buying a couple ferns for my apartment was cool, but I was looking forward to the day I had a home that I could make into whatever kind of space that I wanted, once I found the right person to share it with.

"Busy morning?" I asked Tiff.

"Dad's got a thing about online shopping. He feels like you have to be in the store to inspect your item before you bring it home," she huffed. She had been trying to get her father to let her get groceries delivered to the house, but he wasn't comfortable with a person he didn't know or trust picking his food out for him.

"Tell him it's just like UPS," I suggested.

"He knows that. He's just stubborn."

"I bet he just does it to make you pay your way," I joked.

"I'd believe that. Neither of us is home most of the day, though, so I guess he sort of has a point, especially when summer session starts up."

"I wish I had been half as dedicated as you when I was a sophomore. Maybe I'd be graduating already."

"Why are you in such a hurry to get out? I think you should enjoy this while it lasts."

"You want me to be paying these loans till I'm eighty?"

"I'm just saying. Once you're out, no more student discounts at the Apple store."

"The student discount at the bookstore today saved me like $20 on a $200 textbook. Bullshit," I complained.

"Textbook? You already went shopping?"

"Just before I came here."

"You didn't wait for me so we could go together?"

"You didn't warn me that I would have to have dinner with my ex after a year of not seeing each other last Saturday, so how about we call it even?" She paused for a second, looking kind of sheepish.

"You're really upset about that, huh?"

"A heads-up would have been nice, that's all I'm saying."

"But would you have gone if I had told you your date was with Roman?" she asked. I thought about it.

"No. I probably wouldn't have gone out for a dinner date with my ex. Met him for coffee at 4 p.m.? Maybe. Had lunch with the two of you and your dad here? Maybe that, too. A date? No. He stopped being that person to me a year ago."

"I'm sorry. I know it wasn't my place."

"You're right, it wasn't."

"Can you stop being mad now?"

"Depends on whether lunch is on you today," I said, smirking.

"Only if you come to the store with me to get my books first," she said, smiling back. I agreed.

The Roman thing was definitely something I wish I had never had to do and something I didn't want to deal with now, but I hadn't seen him since that night. Besides the box at my door, I hadn't heard from him, either. There was enough distance between us still for me to not be mad anymore. As long as she wasn't encouraging him behind my back, I couldn't hold it against her.

A couple hours later, I was scanning a shelf of books with scary-sounding titles. Tiffany was in school for Economics, and I knew nothing about what that meant.

"Can you see it?" she asked. We were looking for The Crisis of Capitalist Democracy by Richard Posner, an additional recommended book on her list; not part of her required reading, but she wanted to get it anyway.

"You could probably check the library for it before spending money," I suggested.

"Got it," she said, pulling the book off the shelf. I wandered through the shelves a little more as she paid for her books. One with a photograph of a red and black bird on the cover caught my eye. I picked it up.

"Birds of the American Southwest," Tiffany read over my shoulder as she came up to me. "When did you pick up birdwatching?"

"Have you ever wanted to go?" I asked her.

"Where? Birdwatching?"

"No. Arizona, New Mexico?"

"Not really," she quipped. "Maybe a little further south to Cabo and then we're talking. Are you getting that?"

"Might come in handy on my road trip."

"You are not doing a road trip to New Mexico on your own. I won't let you."

"If you won't go with me, who the hell am I supposed to take?"

"You're supposed to take a plane and stay at a hotel like a normal person," she said. I smiled, knowing she was just kidding.

"I want to get from coast to coast."

"In that piece of trash car? You won't even get from here to Minneapolis," she joked.

Tiff was a homebody. She had a passport, but wasn't as keen on filling it up as I was. I had been to Mexico and Puerto Rico, but I wanted to see the country before I traveled anywhere else international. The only reason I had seen Mount Rushmore was a field trip during elementary school. If I was going to be a tourist, where was a better place to start than here? The idea for the road trip had started last year because of the canceled trip to Glacier National Park that Roman and I had been talking about taking.

"You're right. I should probably just hitch," I laughed.

"You really want to end up dead in a psychopath’s trunk, don't you?"

"Maybe one big trip and I'll get it out of my system," I said, putting the book back. I doubted myself as I said it, but I was willing to try it and see whether I could prove myself wrong. What I really wanted to do was relocate, somewhere with a coast; the closer to a beach I was, the better. Maybe I'd end up back here eventually, but not before I had been around for a few years...or many years, we'd see.

"I'd join you if you’d schedule the trip for after my graduation."

"Maybe I can take Sean," I laughed.

"Don't. He sounds like the kind of guy who you'd get into a fight with and he'd leave you on the side of the road," she said. Sean and I had never really fought, we were still too casual for that, but that didn't even really sound that out of character for him. I didn't bother trying to defend him.

"Sounds like solo it is, then."

"Why don't you take..." She stopped herself before she finished her suggestion, but she didn't have to say it for me to know the rest of it. Why don't you take Roman, she wanted to say. We both knew why. I didn't know why she was acting like she didn't. She was supposed to be on my side.

"That everything?" I asked instead, changing the subject. She frowned like she was going to keep going.

"Yeah. Unless you need anything else," she said. Thank God, she wasn't about to push it. I said I was good, too, and we left the store. I didn't have siblings, but Roman and Tiffany had always been close. I adored their relationship, maybe it was a family thing, she had to stick up for him because they were related or something.

There was another one when I got back to my apartment. I picked it up and opened it immediately before I went inside. Same blue ink, same handwriting.

I missed you at the picnic today... Maybe tomorrow?

Maybe tomorrow... He sure was optimistic for a person who had no right to be. I shook my head, letting myself into my apartment. It was not happening tomorrow. Not the day after that, either.

 

Chapter Thirteen

Roman

At least it's nice out, I thought, opening the basket and sliding the uneaten food into it. I was hungry, but stopped myself. What if she showed up? Yeah, it was already two in the afternoon but what if the minute I packed up and left, she showed up and found nobody here?

Watch it, Roman, you're starting to sound desperate.

I had waited about the same amount of time each day. Two hours felt like plenty of time to let her get from wherever she was to here. I knew where she lived, it wasn't that much of a trip.

Being bitter about it was easy. I was the one who had left, but she had been the one who had been left. I didn't like to use the word dumped, but yeah, I had dumped her and then disappeared for a year. She needed time. She deserved time. I couldn't fault her for not being ready. I hadn't given her a reason to ever think I was even coming back, let alone wanted to be with her again.

The only reason you're like this is your fault, I thought. You want that girl back now, you gotta wait for her. You did shit on your terms without asking her before and now she's in the driver’s seat, all you can do is be ready when she is.

I was ready. More than that. Every day that passed was another I wasn't spending with her. How much fucking better was everything when we had been together? How much more fun was everything, how much happier was I? Her, too.

I wanted that back, and I was getting it. She needed to know that, but I wasn't doing anything hanging out here when it was clear at least for today that she wasn't going to show. There was tomorrow, and the day after that, too. As many days after those that it would end up taking.

I got up and shook the blanket out, folding it up so it could fit in the basket with the food. I also pulled one of the sandwiches I had bought for us out and ate it. Sundried tomato, Swiss cheese, and pickle; it sounded gross, but was actually great. Ron's favorite, she'd always get them at the deli I had passed coming here. I had gotten it because she liked them, though; it wasn't fun eating her favorite foods without her. It just made me think about her and how we weren't together.

My phone rang in my pocket as I backed out of my parking spot, getting ready to leave the park. I pulled it out hoping it was Ron, but knowing better than to think I'd get that lucky. I wasn't even sure she still had the same number. I'd probably ask Tiff for it, she'd give it to me. Don was calling me. I picked up, putting him on speaker so I could keep driving.

"Rome?"

"What's up?" I asked him.

"Where are you right now?"

"Headed home. Why?"

"Busy tonight?"

"Nope. You got something in mind?" I asked, grateful to hear from him. Company didn't sound too bad to me right now, especially after being blown off by Ron again.

"Drinks," he said, “just the two of us.” Sounded good; I could do with something stiff…several of them. I told him I'd be there.

"Awesome," he said. "Maybe we could even get you a date. I was serious about what I said last time we talked."

"Thanks," I said, not wasting my time telling him that I didn't want a girl who wasn't the 5'6, blonde Psych major who was ignoring me.

"Are you okay, man?" he asked.

"It's all good. Why?"

"Last time we talked, you sounded like you've got a lot on your mind. Playing ball, your ex," he said. We weren't exes, it was just complicated right now. There wasn't a name for what we were at the moment, but exes definitely wasn’t it.

"Bump in the road. No big deal. I'll see you tonight," I said. He hung up a little reluctantly. He was a good friend. We could talk about it, but I didn't know how to say it in a way that made sense to him. Women weren't people to be kept around, in his mind. He had them on rotation, changing them over as often as possible and never keeping one around long enough to get to know who she was.

He could do whatever he wanted with his life, I wasn't judging. I just couldn't say I saw eye-to-eye with him on that. He wasn't really wrong when he said there were other fish in the sea, I knew there were. But I wanted Ron. I didn't care about having anyone else.

Since we weren't getting together till later, I figured I'd go to the gym. I had been lifting since I was fifteen for football, but I had lost some mass since being deployed. I had always played at 230 lbs, but was down to 208 lbs. That extra muscle paid off. I wasn't saying no to blowing off some steam, either.

Don wasn't sitting up at the bar when I scanned it to find him later that night. It was a divey spot in town that a lot of students and young professionals liked for the affordable booze. I checked the booths. When I spotted Don, he was waving me over. Next to him with her hand draped over his arm was a smiling brunette.

I almost didn't want to walk up, but I couldn't just not go now that he had seen me. This was how he was, and I let him do his thing. I just wasn't looking forward to trying to talk around another person, especially one who wasn't going to be interested in what I wanted to say and was just going to distract Don, anyway. I walked over, slowly.

"About time you showed up," he said.

"Doesn't look like you even need me," I said. The girl giggled. She was cute, a lot of makeup and big tits bursting out of her top.

"Gina kept me company while I waited for your slow ass," he said. Gina smiled and said hi to me.

"You're the football player," she said. It might have just been me, but she sounded a little impressed.

"I used to be," I said, sliding into the booth across from them.

"Don said you're going pro," she reported. There was an empty martini glass on the table in front of her. I was hoping she wasn't thirsty, and that Don wouldn't offer her another one.

"That's the plan," I said vaguely.

"My friend Kayleigh loves football," she said. Football players. Her friend Kayleigh loved football players, I thought.

"How about your next round's on me," Don said to her. I watched him pull out two twenties and handed them to her. Wow, I thought. I had to give it to him, right or wrong, he took his womanizing seriously. He wasn't leaving here alone, that was for damn sure. She took the money, giggling. He leaned in to kiss her, long and deep – the kind of kiss that made you want to look away.

She slid out of the booth, saying she'd see him later. I watched her walk away and join two other girls at the bar. They all looked over, smiling, probably glad they were covered for their next round of fruity cocktails. I didn't know which one was Kayleigh and wasn't that interested in finding out.

"Cosmetology school. Used to do cheer," he said.

"Huh?"

"Gina," he clarified. "Just broke up with her boyfriend. Her friends brought her out thinking she needed a good time."

"And, you're going to give it to her," I said flatly.

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't help out a woman in need?" he asked, smirking. When we were just getting to know each other, I had thought the cocky thing was an act he put on. It wasn't. He really did think he was God's gift to women. Because he did, they thought so, too.

"You're doing the Lord’s work, Don," I said wryly.

"So what's going on?" he asked. I paused as he asked a passing waitress for a couple beers and two shots.

"Nothing much."

"After Afghanistan? I'd be making up for lost time."

"That means something a little different when I'm doing it, Don," I said, laughing.

"How's it look with football?"

"Called my old coach. He said he and I could talk when summer session starts."

"That's good. That was what you wanted, right?"

"That depends on what he ends up telling me." I was confident in my skill, but I knew how much of getting into the league was politics and luck. I also knew that this wasn't my only option. It wasn't unheard of for guys to work their way up the minors, and if that was the way I'd have to do it, then I would. I took a long drink of the beer that appeared in front of me.

"You’ll get it. I have a good feeling," he said philosophically.

"Somehow, I think football's going to be the easy part."

"What's the hard part?" he asked. I looked at him pointedly. "Don't tell me it's her."

"Okay. I won't," I said, downing more beer. It was already half gone. I needed more. A lot more.

"What did you do?"

"I told her I wanted to talk to her, time and place to meet me and everything."

"And, she didn’t show?" he asked. I shook my head.

"You gotta tell me what it is, Rome. Her pussy better be gold plated or something."

"I love her, that's what it is."

"You sure she feels the same way?" he asked.

"I know she can, she just doesn't want to," I said.

"Then maybe you should stop fighting her on it," he said. I signaled for another beer.

"It's been a year, and I haven't stopped thinking about her."

"That's because you're not trying hard enough; you're still trying to go out with her. Stop talking to her and let time and distance do their thing. You'd be surprised how well you forget when you don't give yourself the responsibility to remember." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not fucking someone else."

"Sometimes you don't have to. Good head gets you off the hook for almost anything," he told me. I laughed, shaking my head. There were a good number of beautiful girls at the bar. That girl Gina and her friends had been looking over every so often. One of them was a blonde, so that alone drew my eyes to her when she looked over here. Her look was wrong, but not bad. She seemed tall, built more athletic than Ron was.

"I'll leave that to you."

"I'm serious, man," he said. "Is she even still single? Did she wait for you this whole past year?"

"She's seeing someone, but it's not serious," I said, not knowing really whether I was right about that. He hadn't come up the last time we talked, but even if he had, I didn't want to give Don more ammo than he already thought he had.

"Then you're in the clear. You know what you don't lack, Rome? Options. I'm telling you, man. Take them."

Maybe he just hadn't met his Ron. When he did, he'd get it. On the other hand, maybe he never would and was okay with that. I didn't operate that way. It wasn't as simple as getting it wet with another girl. What I had done was throw away a relationship with the woman I loved because I was an idiot and thought I was doing the right thing by her. I was an idiot for thinking I'd be able to just move on, too.

I just didn't want the mistake to mean that I'd fucked up every last chance that we had together. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing I didn't fight for this. It still sucked, though. She was pushing me away, and it felt like shit.

"You good?" Don asked as I started on my third beer.

"Great," I said sarcastically. He said he was going to get us some more shots and stood up, walking to the bar. I looked at my bottle wishing I hadn't driven here. Then I could really get wasted. Maybe even drunk enough to take Don's advice. He came back with a tray of shots and set it on the table. I counted them, then counted again because I was sure I was seeing double. I looked up and saw him herding two girls into our booth. The blonde and Gina from earlier.

He introduced me to the women, to the blonde in particular as she sat next to me. Packed into the booth it wasn't a tight squeeze, but I was immediately uncomfortable with having her there.

What had Don told her? I hoped he hadn't promised her anything. I had enough alcohol in me where I didn't know whether I'd say fuck it and take her home or send her on her way disappointed. He doled the shots out, making a toast. I sucked it down, feeling it burn. Yep, that was it for me, I was cutting myself off.

"So, you play football," the blonde said to me. She was Kayleigh.

"I used to." She told me that she liked that, putting her hand on my thigh. I thanked her and offered to get her a drink. She took that as encouragement, running her hand up my leg, closer and closer to my crotch. I tried to distract her asking about her friend, the third girl who hadn't come over with Don. Apparently, she was married and headed home early. Why was I jealous hearing that?

"Hey, Rome? You good?" Don asked.

"What?" I asked. The hand was gone, but she had moved closer and closer the whole conversation, pressed against me.

"Gina and I are gonna head out. You'll make sure Kayleigh gets home safe. Won't you?" he asked, winking. He was about to score and thought I was, too. That had been his plan from the start bringing the girls over.

"You have nothing to worry about," I said to Gina, not him. The girls said bye and as soon as Roman and Gina were out of sight, Kayleigh’s hand was back on my thigh.

"You wanna get out of here?" she asked. It wasn't fair to compare her to Ron; I was heavily, heavily biased. She was pretty. Her skin was tanned, even though I didn't know how she got that much color this early in the summer. Her eyes were hazel, rimmed with black makeup, and her lips glossy.

"Sorry about it, Kayleigh. Not tonight," I said.

"Why not?" she urged. "Don said you were single."

"I had a good time tonight, but I have to leave. I'll call you a cab," I offered. She pouted a little.

"You sure I can't change your mind?" she asked. I should have been attracted to her. I could appreciate that she looked good and was probably a nice girl,but then the block went up. I wasn't interested in seeing her again, not at my place, not at hers, not ever, really.

"Not tonight," I said apologetically. It wasn't her fault that I didn't want her, it was mine. I had tunnel vision for Veronica and felt bad that Don had led her to believe something more than just a couple drinks would come of this. I stayed with her till she finished her drink and got her a cab ride home before heading home myself.

 

Chapter Fourteen

Veronica

Fucking statistics. Just when I thought I wouldn't have to do math because I was studying a soft science. I could have waited to take it another semester, but it made sense that I took the class now since classes were so much smaller and help would be easier to find if I needed it. I was sitting at the dining table I had, which doubled as a work space. It was big enough to seat six, but I had gotten it at a flea market for close to nothing. The wood was beat up, but nothing so bad that sanding and staining it didn't fix.

I was perusing my textbooks, getting a start on my reading for class. I had a GPA to maintain. The little extra free time was going to make or break me this semester. It was much easier to maintain than raise a score, so I wasn't interested in failing. I had nothing else planned this Sunday, anyway. It was late afternoon and I was staying in tonight. That was why the sudden knock at the door was so unexpected.

I answered it, my entire body sagging when Sean walked in. How had he gotten to twenty-two years of age without knowing that it was common courtesy to call people before you came to their homes? I stiffened and turned my head slightly when he tried to kiss me. It didn’t stop him.

"I haven't really heard from you this week," he said. I walked back to the table, sitting in front of my books, hoping he got the picture that he was interrupting.

"I asked if I could come over on Friday. You said you were busy." I didn't bother offering him anything, not even a seat. He had a habit of taking things without permission, anyway, but I didn’t want to encourage him.

"You never told me what happened on that date last week," he said.

"Nothing happened," I said shrugging. "We ate dinner, and I left the restaurant alone."

"Do you like him?" he asked.

"I don't ask about the other people you see, Sean."

"Oh...so you fucked him," he said. I looked down at my book, ignoring that. "Does he know you're seeing other guys?"

"Do the girls you date know about me?"

"It's different when it's a girl," he said. "Girls don't mind a guy with experience, but most guys don't want a girl with mileage."

"Mileage?"

"Let's just say, when you're a girl, you can definitely tell if her body count is in the double digits," he said. I frowned, disgusted. Only he could encourage me to see other people, then basically indirectly call me a ho for doing it.

"Look, Sean, I'm busy. What do you want?"

"You always say that when I come over," he complained.

"Well, you always come over at a bad time. You never call; maybe if you did, we could arrange to meet up when we were both free."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said. "That's going to have to change."

"What? You're gonna start calling?"

"There was a reason I was busy Friday. I started dating someone," he announced.

"Okay. What do you want me to do about that?"

"I don't think it's working between us anymore. Being with this new girl... I don't know whether we can keep seeing each other."

"Yeah. I bet it's really hard to not commit," I sniped.

"I actually like you, Veronica, that's why I came here to talk to you. I'm willing to give it one more shot."

"Lucky me," I said sarcastically.

"If you can tell me why we should still date, we can stay together," he said.

"What? Like, give you a reason? If you're asking for that, it looks like you've already made your decision. You're going to see this other girl regardless. Do what you want," I said spitefully.

"What crawled up your ass and died?"

"Us being together has never stopped you before. I don't think anything has stopped you before. It doesn't matter what I feel – it's about you, isn't it? All about you. Just leave. You knew what you wanted before you came here. You're wasting my time and yours."

"You're always like this. What the fuck is your problem?" he demanded.

"Only when you're around Sean. I wouldn't call that a coincidence. I'm gonna tell you one more time – get out."

"Fine. You're always fucking uptight, anyway," he sneered, leaving. I locked the door behind him. This has to be the last time that I do this, I thought. It wasn't like he was being more overbearing than usual, it was just hitting me differently. I had had a lot less patience for him lately. That and a lot more on my mind.

It helped that he seemed to be making distancing myself easier. He had found someone new. In that case, best of luck to them. It should not have taken this long to get to this place. I didn't know whether you could break up with someone who you weren't actually with, but it felt that way. I sat down again, staring down at my textbook. Nope, it wasn't happening. Not tonight. I picked my phone up instead.

"Hello?" said Tiffany.

"Guess who just left my place," I said instead of hello.

"Who?"

"Sean."

"The guy you're wasting your good looks and time on?"

"You'll never guess what he came here to do."

"Eat your food? Have sex? Did he lock himself out of his place and knew you'd let him spend the night?"

"No," I said, rolling my eyes, though this was Sean we were talking about and all those were possibilities. "He came in saying he and I needed to talk. He just started dating someone new and told me he came over to give me a chance to defend why he should still see me or it's over."

"That fool walked into your house and gave you an ultimatum?" she asked.

"Can you believe it?"

"No. Just no. You can't anymore. Dump him, please. For me, so I don't have to hear this shit anymore. For yourself, so he isn't making you defend your title as his spare girlfriend."

"I think I'm done," I said, weighing the possibility in my head.

"Really done? Or just done till the next time he calls you?"

"He has a new girlfriend, he shouldn't miss me," I said, shrugging.

"I want to congratulate you for shaking 175 lbs of dead weight, but I'll believe it when I see it."

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Anything. What is it?"

"I need you to tell it to me straight. Don't sugar coat it."

"Of course. What do you need to know?" she asked. I took a deep breath.

"Is Roman seeing anybody?"

"No," she said immediately, almost too fast.

"Tiff, I mean anybody at all, it doesn't have to be a girlfriend. Do you know if he's taking girls home? Dating?"

"No, Vee. He isn't."

"Are you sure?"

"I know he's been seeing his friend Donovan again and they go out to bars, but he isn't seeing anybody, not even casually."

"Great," I sighed.

"Why? I thought... I thought you were done with him."

"He left me this box at my door earlier this week. It had a note in it. He wants to meet up and talk. He basically said where to meet him and that he'd be waiting there every day at the same time till I showed up."

"Have you talked to him?"

"No. It's going to take more than just a letter to see him again."

"I can tell you for a fact that he isn't playing you," she told me. "If he wants to talk, maybe you should hear him out if nothing else. Then you can hear it from the horse's mouth."

"I'll think about it," I said.

"Guess that's all I can ask you to do," she conceded. I thanked her for telling me and hung up.

The boxes had started showing up on Tuesday; it was Sunday now, almost a week. How long would it be before he gave up and stopped going? Had he been going at all? Was I too late? If I was then it was my fault for thinking the offer didn't have an expiry on it.

But if Tiffany's facts were straight and he wasn't seeing anyone, that meant that he was serious about... About what? Something. Us getting back together? All he had said in the notes was he wanted to talk but, it made sense that maybe that was what he wanted. The only way to know for sure was to go talk to him.

Talk. Just talk. If he really wasn't seeing anyone else, that meant he was at least serious. A talk, I could give him that much.

 

Chapter Fifteen

Roman

She's not coming, I thought for the millionth time. Again. She's not fucking coming. I had been checking the clock since it had hit one. It was almost two now. If she was showing up, she should have by now. There was late and there was this. This was a blow off.

That first day, I understood. After a couple after that, I could still see why she wouldn't show. It was almost a week now, though, and I was getting tired of sitting out on this blanket waiting for someone who wasn't even thinking about showing up. When did it cross the line to just pathetic, waiting for her like this? I wondered. It was one thing if I knew I could count on seeing her, but that hope was dying a little every day.

Did I have to go to her place to talk to her? No. I knew Ron. She wouldn't like feeling like I was backing her into a corner, making her talk to me when she didn't want to or when she was still mad and needed time to cool off. That was why I had given her the option to come to me when she was ready. Question was when the hell would that be? Maybe she wasn't trying to get ready. Maybe talking wasn't even something she was thinking about doing in the first place, so there was nothing she had to get ready for.

I wasn't buying all this food to eat myself, but it was looking like that was what I would be doing again tonight. I sighed, putting all the food back into the basket. Would I be back tomorrow? That was the thing, I could say that I wouldn’t be, but I would. It was getting harder every day and maybe I just wasn't taking a hint, but I would.

A flash of white through the trees caught my eye. I looked, making out a person coming towards me. Nobody had ever come through the trees to the clearing when I had been here. I doubted how many people actually knew about it. I held my breath recognizing the figure coming through the trees. Her dress was white and her hair was down, loose and a little messy around her shoulders. It was her. She came. She hadn't blown me off.

Something told me that I should be standing when she came up to me, so I did. The past year had been good to her. Maybe the image I had had of her in my mind just hadn't been close enough to the real thing, that was why I couldn't look away from her. She looked angelic when she wore white. I was so glad that I had gotten back just in time for sundress season.

"Hi," she said softly, coming up to me. I restrained myself from touching her; she probably wouldn't want me to.

"Hey."

"Can I sit?" she asked.

"Please," I said. She sunk down to her knees, sitting on her legs. Her dress rode up so I could see part of her thighs. The movement distracted me a little. It wasn't like I hadn't seen it before, it had just been so long since we had both been here, since that day we had ditched class the week before finals.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, sitting facing her. She said that she was. I pulled the spread out of the basket. Mini quiches I had bought from a bakery and some brownies. She ignored the quiche, going straight for the dessert.

"I didn't think you were coming," I said.

"I didn't either. Sorry for making you wait."

"I'm just glad you showed."

Silence. I wasn't used to this, being awkward around Ron. We had never had that problem, not even when we had just started out dating.

"I haven't been here since..." She stopped herself. I remembered the last time we were together here. Thinking about what we did was probably going to just scare her away. We had to work back up to that.

"Were you busy today?" I asked. She broke a piece off her brownie and ate it.

"I was actually at school," she said.

"Yeah? Why?"

"Library. I took some courses for the summer session."

"That's great."

"Is it? I think it is, but some people think I should be backpacking around Europe, not sitting in class."

"If it's what you want, it's great that you're doing it," I said, shrugging. "Besides, not a lot of people make school their first priority, even when it should be."

"It'll pay off in the end, that's what I keep telling myself," she said, with a small smile. "What about you?"

"What? Class?"

"You always had classes during summer training," she said. I liked that she remembered that. I liked that familiarity we had with each other. We had been a couple, but all that time we spent together, all that time talking, had made us friends, too. It was the kind of friendship I didn't get from Don or anyone else. We were close physically and emotionally – it was everything together.

"Stuff's a little weird right now," I said.

"How so?"

"I would have to reenroll if I wanted to play for the school again, but since I took time off, I don't know whether it would be worth trying to get drafted this year. Football was always what I wanted to do. I feel like I'd rather concentrate on that than split my time with academics."

"That sounds risky," she said.

"It is. Any professional sports career is risky. Barely any of the people in college for football actually end up in the league."

"Only the best?"

"Yeah, and the ones lucky enough not to get injured.”

"I hope you get in. I know how much being making it into the pros meant to you." She broke her brownie in two, eating another piece.

"Thanks. I hope so, too."

"Looks like we're both where we want to be," she said with a small smile. If she meant here with her eating brownies, then yeah, I agreed.

"In some ways," I said. I thought I saw her blush.

I asked her what courses she had picked up for summer session. I liked to think I had at least a slight working knowledge of psychology from talking to her about her school stuff. She avoided talking about my deployment when I'd mention it, but loosened up. The sun moved and we moved the blanket with it. The timid way she started lingered, but it wasn't unbearable. Two hours later, she had to head home.

"I had a good time," she said. She helped me fold the blanket back up.

"Thanks for coming. I want to see you again, Ron." Uncertainty crossed her face and she bit her lower lip a little.

"I don't know," she said.

"Anything. I'll take anything, Ron. I'll walk you to class in the morning if you'll let me. I just want to see you again." She paused. What was she about to say? I wasn't too good to beg her for this.

"Are you free Friday night?" she asked. I had to wait a couple beats to stop myself from cheering.

"I will be," I said. "Dinner?"

"As friends," she said firmly. I bit my tongue. Don't argue with her, she already said yes. Don't make her change her mind.

"I'll pick you up," I said.

"No, I'll drive. Wait a minute. How do you know where my new place is?" she asked.

"I asked Tiff," I admitted.

"What else did you ask her?" she asked.

"Whether you were happy." She paused again, looking down for a second.

"Why would you want to know that?"

"Because I care about you. I needed to know-"

"Whether I ever got over when you dumped me?" she interrupted. Her voice wasn't accusing me of anything; she sounded neutral, but some pain came through.

"How you were doing since I hadn't seen you in a long time," I said. "Ron, I need you to know that I never stopped caring about you. I know what I did, and I can't apologize enough for making you think there was a time that I didn't."

"I just don't want you to have expectations for this," she said. "I agreed to see you, but what happened isn't going to be reversed after one date."

"I know that. I'm just glad that you're giving me a chance. Since it's a date, let me pick you up," I tried. She sighed, running her hand through her hair. I wanted to do it, too, but I had lost the privilege to touch her like that a year ago.

"Okay," she said. Thank fuck she was on board. I told her I'd pick her up at seven thirty Friday night. She nodded – not that enthusiastic, but it was still a yes.

"Can I walk you to your car?" I asked.

"Sure, we're going the same way anyway," she said. We walked side by side. My hand brushed the back of hers accidentally, and she silently crossed her arms across her chest. Fuck, that stung, I realized, miles away from this girl who was right next to me where the hell I was. I was back to square one, maybe less than that. I was sure of what I felt, but that was because it was easy for me. I hadn't been the one who had had to hear from my boyfriend of almost three years that he didn't love me anymore out of the blue.

"Thank you for coming to see me," I said again as we walked up to her car.

"I'm not going to lie to you. Up until one thirty, I wasn't sure I was."

"Can I ask what changed your mind?" I asked, wishing I didn't as soon as it came out of my mouth. But I needed to hear it. The lies I had told her before I left were the reason she was here like this now, scared of me.

"Something told me you were being sincere. For that, I figured you at least deserved a chance to say what you needed to say."

"What about the date?"

"If you wanna test your luck, I'll cancel it," she threatened. She was smiling a little and her voice was light. It was something. I'd take a tepid smile over tears any day. That bit of fire, too? That was her, my girl. We said our goodbyes, and I waited till she had driven away to get into my car and head home.

I dropped the basket onto the kitchen counter when I got home. First day it wasn't full of food I'd have to eat myself. Today was a good day, I thought. It was a win. A small one. One which depended on what happened Friday, but I was taking it. I was back in.

 

Chapter Sixteen

Veronica

Tiffany had called me saying she was coming over that afternoon. The knock at the door came right on cue. I turned the television off and went to get it. Since it was only her, I didn't care that I was in my pajamas with my hair in a bun. She breezed in, dressed like she had had places to go during the day. I had had places to go during the day, too, but my apartment was a strict comfort-only zone. The jeans and bra came off the second I walked through the door.

I was about to ask her how she was when I noticed the look on her face. She was grinning so hard she could split her cheeks.

"Why are you in such a good mood?"

"Why aren't you in a better one?" I looked at her blankly. "You have a date tomorrow."

"I know, that still doesn't tell me why you’re so thrilled."

"So, you aren't excited?" she asked. We made our way to the couch. My dining table was crowded with books and photocopies, but I was taking a break.

"It's your brother; we went out for almost three years."

"That was in the past, you're new people now."

"Different versions of the same people," I said to her, "so no. He can't surprise me at this point. I know him pretty well."

"A lot can change in a year," she said.

"If you know something, tell me now."

"Nothing," she said innocently, "I'm just excited.

"You know that's not normal, right?"

"I've been rooting for you since the beginning. I'm excited the two of you are finally talking again."

"That's all we're doing – talking."

"Of course it is," she said, grinning.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Just admit you're excited, too."

"I'm not. This isn't new. He isn't new. It's just been a long time."

"So you haven't been thinking about what you're going to wear?" she asked.

I paused. I had a pretty solid wardrobe. I didn't like spending on new stuff, just getting a couple investment pieces a few times a year. But now that she had mentioned it, I hadn't really thought about what I was going to wear.

"I'll dig something up," I said lightly.

"This isn't a date that you just dig something up to wear.”

"We used to go out together. I'm not trying to make a fake first impression. He knows what I look like with no makeup on in pajamas. I don't need to impress him."

"That's no excuse not to try. You have to make an effort. That is how you keep a man," she said matter-of-factly.

"How do I keep something that isn't even mine?"

"Not with that attitude. First, you need to open your eyes because you still somehow think the two of you aren't getting back together."

"We'll see what happens when it happens," I sighed. I didn't want any pressure. That was one of the conditions of this date even happening. It had to be casual, no expectations more than just talking and sharing a meal as two people who had been close in the past.

"You still have to try," she said.

"I will. Tomorrow, I swear I'll wear false lashes."

"I mean for real. Let's go out and buy something."

"A new dress for this? No."

"Come on."

"What’s wrong with what I own?"

"He's seen it all before, that's what," she said, smirking.

"No. Not a good enough reason to do it."

"We could make it a whole day. Shop, get our nails done, it'll be fun."

"I'm not spending money on a new dress."

"You've barely quit working since school let out, and then you'll be right back in class on Monday again."

She had a point. I sort of hated that she did, but class was starting next week and it had been a little while since I had spent money on a manicure. I was happy to do my nails at home since I could save money that way, but it was nice to let people take care of you sometimes. Getting them done today, just before the date with Roman, didn't mean that I was doing it for him. No. I was doing it for me, like Tiff said. There was no shame in doing something nice for yourself when you deserved it.

"I'll come with you, but I still won't spend money on a dress," I insisted.

"That's all I want," she said, popping up to her feet. "Grab a shower, and we'll leave." I resented that she thought I wasn't clean just because I was wearing pajamas, but let her have it. I changed and coaxed my hair into a simple up-do, not really wanting to brush it out into a lion's mane. We took separate cars, starting at the nail salon.

We ended up at the mall next. I didn't want to really buy anything, so I just followed Tiff's lead, following her into a boutique where she claimed she had seen something that she wanted to get. She was tall, long limbed, and willowy, so she could have just skipped the school thing entirely and taken up modeling. Shopping with her was fun, but clothes just didn't sit the same on me. I was slightly above average height, but still three inches shorter than her. I wore a size six, but I wasn't walking down anyone's runway anytime soon.

I kept her company as she looked through the racks, looking a little, too – at least that much was free. She pulled a coral-colored dress off a rack and held it against herself to see how long it would be.

"What do you think?" she asked me.

"A little short," I offered. On a shorter girl it wouldn't have been, but on her, it would border on salacious. She had the legs for it, though. She sighed and put it back on the rack. I remembered her saying she had wanted something specific, but it seemed to me that we were just browsing at this point. I wasn't complaining, just a little suspicious. She had taught me already that she couldn't be trusted when it came to her brother.

"What about this?" she asked, holding out a red one. It had a keyhole cut out in the chest and one similar in the back. It looked about knee length and the skirt had some movement to it.

"Same problem as the last."

"What about on you?" she said, holding it up against me.

"I told you I wasn't getting anything."

"Just try it on," she said. "That's free."

I didn't want to be grouchy, so I relented. I’d try it on if that meant she would leave me alone about getting a new dress. She waited outside the changing room stall for me as I slipped into it. It was my size, which didn't matter since I wasn't getting it anyway, but I looked at myself in the mirror wearing it. The skirt skimmed over my hips and hit me two or three inches above the knee. I could see my bra from the rear and front cutout details but I could always go without. I did a slow spin, checking myself out.

I looked kind of hot.

"Can I see?" Tiff asked, poking her head into the stall. Her jaw dropped. "You have to get it."

"How much does it cost?" I asked warily. My resolve to not get anything at all had shaken a little bit. She checked the price attached to the label for me.

"It's an investment," she said instead of giving me a number. I pulled it off, checking myself. Sixty eight dollars. It could have been worse. but that wasn't good.

"Seventy dollars for a dress?" I said to her like she was the one who had priced it.

"It's for a special occasion."

"Not that special."

"You have to get it. Just take it home and see how you feel tomorrow. Keep the tags on and if you regret getting it, return it," she said simply. I got dressed, putting the dress back on the hanger. I didn't want to tell her that I liked her idea. The dress was calling to me, and her plan would work great if I stayed within the return window. She waited for me to come out of the dressing room.

"So?" she said expectantly.

"I'll get it," I said grudgingly, like it was really hurting me that much to buy myself a beautiful dress. From the feel of the fabric and its construction, it seemed worth the almost $70 price tag, but we'd see whether I ended up here tomorrow giving it back. Tiff did a joyful little jump and cheer like I was getting it for her. It was nice that it made her happy; she just wanted me to have fun. I didn't know what that meant and a lot of the time didn't care to unwind. I knew she was looking out for me in her own way.

"What now?" I asked, letting her joy lift my spirits.

"Now? Shoes."

It was just getting dark by the time I got back home. I let myself in and dumped my purse in my room with the shopping bags. I never splurged like this on clothes. I had ended up getting a pair of heels under Tiffany's coercion to go with the dress I had gotten. After getting the dress though, she didn't really have to convince me that hard to get them. I picked up the first bag and pulled the dress out again. It had been pretty in the store and fit like a dream. I looked at it now, waiting for it to feel frivolous or for something in me to rebel against it.

The soft, high-quality material felt great under my fingers and made me feel amazing when I had it on. I had gotten it for a date, but if I wanted, it would work great for any semi-formal function that had to attend. Dressed up or down, I could even wear it to drinks or a casual meeting.

I stood in front of my mirror and held it against myself, smiling at my reflection. He'll love it, I thought. Woah, where had that come from?

It didn't matter what he thought. Not really, but now I was sort of looking at the dress and wondering what his reaction would be when he saw it. It hit me right a couple inches above the knee, and I coyly pulled it higher up my body to raise the hem a little. I started thinking about what underwear I had to wear with it since the cut-out would show my bra, whether I really wanted to wear the heels that I had gotten to wear with it or use a pair I already owned.

I started thinking makeup and hair, worrying suddenly what he would think when he saw the whole thing altogether. I was nervous. I had been on dates since the breakup, I had even gone out with Roman, thinking it would be another guy, but I hadn't gotten butterflies thinking about what a guy would think about my outfit like this before.

It wasn't a big deal, I had been on dates with Roman before, but something about the newness despite the fact that we knew each other better than anyone else made me giddy. I felt like I was going on a first date with the boy I had been crushing on for months. It felt innocent and exciting. I liked it.

 

Chapter Seventeen

Roman

We were going out for dinner, and I was picking her up. There was no way she could act like it wasn't a date now. Friends my ass. We were friends, I considered her my best friend but I wasn't stopping there with her. We were going the whole way. I wanted it all.

Tonight was the night. We'd be alone together, and she'd feel like nothing changed, like we could just go back. We hadn't changed enough to not want each other anymore, to not be compatible anymore. It didn't matter what had happened over the year that had passed – what we felt was still the same and if it was, then we'd figure the rest of the shit out.

I buttoned my shirt up and tucked it in, heading for the door. I felt good. I thought I'd be nervous, but I was just excited. Any time I spent with Veronica was time I enjoyed, but I had a good feeling about tonight. She had been open about seeing me again, that meant maybe that old magic would kick in and she'd just go with the flow, let go and let me remind her what it had been like with us, why we had to get it back.

I got into my car, heading to her place. This was just one of many to come. I had my fingers crossed. Knowing it wouldn't hurt, I stopped by the grocery store and picked up some white roses. If I had to woo her all over again, I would do it.

It was a little early when I knocked at her door, but she answered it almost immediately. She was in a long, silky nightgown. Her hair was straight which had always thrown me off a little when she did it. It was curly naturally, long gold and honey strands, soft as silk.

"You're early," she said.

"Should I leave and come back?" I asked, smiling. She returned it.

"No. I just need to put my dress on. Do you mind waiting?" she asked.

"Good things take time, I get it. These are for you," I said, handing her the flowers. She took the bouquet, her cheeks blushing pink.

"Strong start," she said. "Keep it up, flattery will get you everywhere." She let me walk into her apartment. It was small and clean. On one side was the dining area with a table that looked family sized and on the other was her living room. There was a patterned rug under the coffee table, a couch, a TV, bookshelf, and some end tables. She had disappeared into what I guessed was the kitchen before coming back out with a vase full of water for the flowers.

"I take second chances seriously," I said.

"Good. They only come around once," she said. I closed the couple of feet between us where she was near the dining table putting down the vase.

"You look beautiful," I said because she was.

"I'm not even dressed yet."

"Doesn't change the fact that it's true." It was still a little surreal, being with her again. Standing there with her, her green eyes looking up at me, I couldn't help reaching a hand out and tucking her hair back behind her ear. It had been way too long since I had touched her.

"Thank you," she said quietly. The tension wasn't uncomfortable, but it was building. "Give me five minutes, I'll be right out."

I watched her walk away into her bedroom. Thinking of her behind that door taking her nightgown off made my cock stir. The way she looked topless, in lingerie, in nothing… I remembered every little bit of her. It was seared in my memory, and it was right behind that door. I had to calm down – the wrong move now would shoot me in the foot. I wasn't fucking up this close to getting her back.

I was looking at the pile of books on her dining table when she came out of her bedroom. Her dress was fire-engine red. It cut off a couple inches above her knees and didn't have any sleeves. A section on the chest was cut out, giving a perfect view of her cleavage.

"Wow," I said, looking at her.

"You like it?" she asked hopefully. Fuck, how long had it been since I kissed her? I didn't need my dick ruining this for me.

"You look great. Ready?"

She grabbed her purse, and we headed out. That little bit of awkwardness that was between us the last time we were alone together on the blind date was gone. Sitting there in my car, there was nothing between us, like we hadn't missed a beat since last year.

I knew better than to think that, though. I wasn't treating this like it was a sure thing because it was not. I was going to do everything in my power to make sure this worked. That was why dinner tonight was at a steakhouse I knew for a fact she liked because we had been there together before.

I wanted to hold her hand, but that might have been pushing my luck. It was enough that anyone who looked at us would know that we were together. I did let my hand ghost over her lower back as we moved through the restaurant, though, getting to our table.

"I know what you're getting," I said, looking at Ron over the menu when we were sitting.

"What?" she challenged.

"Chicken Caesar if you're still trying to impress me and you're nervous. Porterhouse medium-well which you won't be able to finish and give to me if you feel like getting your usual," I said. Ron was the only other person I knew who liked a higher cook on her meat than medium. The blood just grossed me out.

"You got cocky since sophomore year," she said. I smirked; I was right.

"Naw, babe. You're just predictable," I said. She made a face, making me laugh.

"I'm getting the tuna," she said in a mock-offended voice.

"And a side of fries to split," I said finishing her order. "Some things never change."

"You're not the same," she said.

"What's different about me?"

"You're older."

"We're the same age."

"I don't mean like that," she said. She paused as a server took our orders; she asked for a side of fries for the table, just like I knew she would. "I mean, more experienced. Mature."

"You're older, too," I said.

"We're the same age, but you do not, under any circumstance, tell a woman she's old," she told me teasingly.

"You have your own place, you're doing great in school, and you have your shit together," I said, leaving out the part about the guy she was supposed to be seeing. It wasn't serious if she was here with me, and I didn't care about him, anyway. I was trying to get my girl back. I didn't owe him shit.

"I'm glad it looks that way," she said. "I'm just trying to graduate with a degree that I can use one day."

"You're more than halfway there. You'll have your own practice in no time," I told her. She smiled. We had talked about what we wanted to do when we “grew up.” Mine had always been football, not really a lot of Plan B planning in case that one fell through because it wasn't going to. She had toyed with the idea of being a shrink, eventually opening her own practice.

"I'm not in a hurry," she said.

"No?" I asked. She was in a hurry to get out of school, but not to become a professional psychologist. She wanted to travel for a while before settling. I had known that already, but the cross-country road trip she wanted to do was new. I was intrigued; more than that, I wanted to be the one who went with her.

When our food showed up, I was almost pissed that our conversation would slow down. It didn't even matter what we were talking about, I just wanted to keep doing it. All that stupid, giddy excitement you felt at the beginning of a new relationship? I was feeling it now, but it was better because I already loved the person I was talking to. We already had inside jokes, knew each other's wants and secrets. The night was going great. She was laughing and hadn't seemed nervous the entire time.

"I don't want to go home," she said when our plates were gone. I was having my second beer, but she was still nursing the white wine she had gotten when we sat down.

"You want to stop somewhere for drinks first?" I asked.

"Not my own home, I meant," she said. I grinned, pretty sure she was asking me to take her to my place.

"No? Nowhere to go tomorrow?" I asked, teasing her a little.

"Nope. No plans."

"That means you can sleep in."

"If I'm tired enough. Depends on what happens after this," she said. She smirked at me from across the table.

"I'm thinking about heading home."

"Tiff told me you moved out recently. I'd love to see your new place. Can I?" she asked sweetly.

I felt warm in the pit of my stomach. Everything up to this point had gone off without a hitch; her wanting to spend more time together was perfect, more than I had been expecting her to want, honestly. She was warming up fast. It was my turn now. I wanted nothing more than to spend the night with her, but it just wasn't realistic thinking I had an in.

Thinking about her had kept me going when I was away. Her lips, her silky smooth skin, her pussy, I had beat my dick raw wishing it was her when I was gone. She was flirting with me, asking me to take her home, I was so close. I couldn't afford to fuck up.

"If you don't want anything else, we can head home. Sure," I said. She tried to go dutch, but I didn't let her. If this was technically our first date, then I was doing it right. During the walk to the car, she slipped her arm through mine, gently holding my bicep. In the car on the way to my place, she was mostly silent. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was loaded. I could feel it.

I unlocked the door and let her walk in ahead of me when we got to my place.

"Here it is," I said, flipping the lights on. I hadn't bought any more furniture than I’d had at my apartment, so it was pretty bare. If it turned out that I was staying here longer than I thought, I'd get more stuff. For now, I had a couch, recliner, coffee table, and television. I had a bed in my room and that was it.

"Where's all your stuff?" she asked.

"This is it." It felt fucking great having her in my space as she walked around.

"You're a dropout. Why does this still look like a college student's house?" she said, smiling over her shoulder at me.

"It's not much, but it's enough. What? You don't like it?" I asked. It was clean and pretty tidy, but she was a girl, and I'd seen her place. She had decor and color in her space. It wasn't really me. I didn't care to put the place together with any more than the bare essentials. I had felt fine about it till now, but if I was going to be bringing Ron here, I needed her to like it, too.

"Did you pick those drapes yourself?" she asked, pointing to the patterned gray and white drapes I had in the windows.

"They were on sale."

"I don't know," she said, "I was expecting something different."

"Different how?" I asked, coming up behind her.

"This place feels a little cramped."

"Cramped?"

"Small," she said, shooting me a mischievous look over her shoulder. I reached for her hand and pulled her back into me. She hit my chest lightly and turned around, steadying herself with her hands on my shoulders.

"My house is the only thing about me you can call small. You know that," I said, pulling her into me. She let me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"You're such a big guy. I just expected more," she said lightly.

"I don't have to compensate for anything," I said confidently. "Besides, I've got all the space I need."

"Yeah?"

"Once we hit both couches, the bed, and the shower, what's wrong with the floor?" I asked. She blushed looking down. I scooped her up into my arms, so her legs wrapped around me. She yelped, hanging onto me so she didn't fall. "Besides, I haven't even given you the grand tour yet."

"Start with your bedroom, and we'll go from there," she said.

We had both had a drink with dinner, nothing close to enough to get us drunk, but I was feeling something. The tension had come to a head. She had her arms around me and my hands were gripping her smooth thighs. Pressed up against me the way she was, there was no way she didn't feel my hard on. I wanted her, too. It was her fault I was all riled up.

"Not so small now," I said, knowing she could feel me against her thigh.

"I can almost forgive the fun-sized living room," she whispered, smirking. There was that smart mouth. I had something better she could do with it. I kissed her. Our lips came together, and I groaned; it felt so fucking good. I'd have her lipstick all over me by the time we were done, but I didn't give a fuck.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and crushed her body into mine. A soft sigh escaped her. Her hands ran through my hair, over my back. My tongue danced with hers, tasting her after such a long time. I went back and forth about whether a year was a long time or not, but right now, it might as well have been an eternity.

I couldn't kiss her hard enough, deep enough. Her enthusiasm just pushed me harder. I wanted another moan, another sigh. I wanted her nails running down my back. I wanted to be the reason she screamed and threw her head back.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting to do that?" I asked when we finally parted. She ran her thumb over my lower lip, getting the lipstick that had transferred when we kissed. Her lipstick was pink; I'd be wiping that shit off a few more places once tonight was done. I felt my cock throb thinking about her lips sucking me off.

"Do it again," she whispered.

Our lips crashed together, briefly clicking teeth in our desperation. I held the back of her head, fisting her hair as my tongue and lips got reacquainted with hers. I walked us to the wall that led into the hallway, gently pressing Ron into it. I tore my mouth from hers to kiss her neck, to suck the skin above her collarbone in between my teeth. I palmed one of her tits over the dress, kissing her below her ear.

"Roman," she choked, desperately. I stopped, letting my hand slide down to her waist. I was holding her up against the wall, between her spread legs. I was so hard it hurt. If she told me to stop that was it, but I was praying she didn't. Praying that she wanted what I wanted to give her.

"Should I stop?" I asked.

"Don't. I want you," she said.

I held her close against me, walking us backward. I went through the dark hall to my bedroom, setting her down before I crawled over on top of her. I pulled her dress up, feeling her legs and thighs. White panties hid her pussy from me, so they had to go. She pushed herself up to her knees suddenly. Her dress zipped up the side, and she was pulling it down. I put my hands over hers, stopping her.

"No. Let me."

 

Chapter Eighteen

Veronica

Roman peeled my dress off and tossed it onto the floor. My panties were next. His head was buried between my thighs before I could find the words to tell him I wanted to see him, too. I hadn't been celibate this past year, but it didn't matter – my body jerked, and I cried out like I'd never been touched before. Three other men had touched me since Roman had, but I could hardly remember their names right then.

He alternated steady sucking with long licks over my clit, plunging two fingers into me in and out. His stubble scraped my skin, but it felt good. He knew what I liked, and that beat sleeping with someone new a million times over. The weight of his touch and his skilled lips and tongue were welcome and familiar. My legs were splayed lewdly, and he made animalistic groans as he pleasured me.

The rise started deep inside my core. It was like he sensed it, too, because he went faster, fucking me with his fingers and lashing my clit with his tongue. I pinched my nipples between my fingers, letting my orgasm wash over me. I spasmed and sagged, panting as Roman's tongue collected my essence.

He pushed my legs up towards my body, and I froze. I knew what he was about to do but it still sent a thrill through me, a throb through my clit. His finger trailed the line from my opening to my back-door gently pushing against the tight ring. I sighed as he rimmed me with his tongue. Sean had asked incessantly for anal, but I didn't trust him not to hurt me. I didn't trust anyone to know where to touch me and how to fuck me like Roman.

I tried to look at him. I could just make him out in the darkness, but that didn't change how keenly every move he made felt against my skin. I touched his hair, running my fingers over his cheek to get his attention. He raised his head, letting his thumb take his tongue's place teasing my asshole. I shut my eyes, moaning.

"Roman, please," I said.

"I haven't tasted you in a year, babe. I can't help it," he said, his voice heavy with strain.

"You haven't fucked me in a year," I complained. I was hungry for him. My basest desires longed to feel him pumping between my thighs, hard and rough till he spilled his seed into me.

"I'm never making that mistake again," he murmured.

His weight left me suddenly. He walked across the room to turn the light on. I covered my eyes as they adjusted, focusing on him again right as his underwear hit the floor and he kicked them away. My mouth practically watered.

He looked leaner than he had been a year before, but still all thick, corded muscle and long, strong limbs. Erect, almost purple at the tip, was his cock standing at attention, straight up against his stomach. Masculine strength and god-like endowment.

He was over me again, holding himself up. I cupped his face, kissing him desperately. I was ready, gushing between my thighs, waiting for him to enter me. What was he waiting for?

"Ronnie," he said, brushing my hair back and touching his forehead to mine. "I haven't slept with anyone since the last time we were together. I'm clean. I don't want to use a rubber, but I will if you want me to," he said. I felt a flash of shame in myself for letting my want make me forget.

"I'm still on birth control," I said. "The other..." I didn't want to bring up other men when we were like this. "You're the only person I've fucked skin to skin," I said instead.

Guilt bloomed in my chest when he kissed me. He had dumped me; what I had done wasn't wrong, but at the time, it hadn't been honest. Not deep and visceral the way it was with Roman. I pushed against his shoulders till he let me roll him to his back, mounting him. My hand barely closed around his cock as I jerked his engorged tip. He groaned, leaning back into the pillow.

"I get a ride today? Is it my birthday?" he teased. I lined him up with my wet slit and sunk him into me. He gripped my hips, controlling my speed.

"Slow," he said harshly. He pressed me down onto him inch by agonizing inch till his full length filled me. I started slow like he wanted, grinding my hips into his. Not a spot inside me felt untouched, he filled me so completely. His girth stretched me, filling the space that for years had been only his.

He sat up suddenly, hitting me at a different angle. I rode him, feeling his lips close around my nipple and his fingers reach back between my cheeks to toy with my rosebud. He was stimulating every part of me. He was so thorough, I whimpered as he gave me everything I didn't need to ask for because he already knew.

His arm closed around me, and in a flash, I was on my back, his weight bearing me into the mattress. He rocked in and out of me, slow and steady. The long, hard strokes completed me, torturous and sweet at the same time. My opening wept around him, wet beyond belief. I tried to hold off my orgasm, wanting this to last, but I didn't stand a chance against the man who knew my body almost as well as I did. I let the wave knock its way through me, convulsing and crying out.

He went faster, grunting and thrashing till I felt his orgasm, his cum shooting powerfully from his dick, coating my walls. He sagged into me, panting, and kissed me sweetly before pulling out and rolling onto his back, taking me with him so I rested on his chest. Sated, we both came down from the sexual high, intimately together even though he was no longer inside me.

I couldn't keep my hands off of him. His skin was slightly damp where one rested on his chest. I always loved that he never waxed his chest or anything like that, being with a guy who had less body hair than I did was a pretty strong turn-off. I felt comfortable pressed up against him, naked after having sex with him for the first time in so long.

My fingers brushed the trail of coarse hair that led from below his navel to his dick. His hand closed around mine, bringing it to his lips and kissing my knuckles.

"Gotta give me a minute, babe," he said lightly. I was getting dangerously close to his dick and he wasn't ready to go again. I was just happy to be here. He was right there. His lips, his touch, his body... It had been even better than I could have imagined.

"I just can't believe it," I said.

"What?"

"When you left, I was hell-bent on hating you. I tried to hate everything you were and everything we did," I admitted. His chest rose and fell under my head.

"I'd do the same thing if I were in your position. I'm sorry I did what I did to you," he said.

"I thought that if I could find a way to hate you, I'd get over you faster. I never forgot this, though. I couldn't hate it."

"Sex?"

"Well, yes," I said, blushing, “but this part too. Just being in your arms again." The arm he had around my waist tightened, and I felt him kiss my forehead.

"I missed holding you," he said into my hair. His arms made me feel safe – his arms, his specifically. I had been intimate with guys since Roman, but he was... It meant more with him. There was history and friendship there. When we came together, it wasn't just our bodies that connected.

"You don't know how much I missed this," he said. If it was anywhere close to how much I had missed it, then I had an idea. "Stay with me tonight." It hadn't been a question. It hadn't even been a suggestion. He was telling me to stay the night. I could have said something, that I didn't want to stay with him, or that I didn't like it that he didn't even bother to ask me first. Both would be lies.

His hand came up and brushed against my cheek. I craned my neck to look up at him.

"I thought you had fallen asleep on me," he said.

"Not yet." I was tired, but I wasn't dozing off. "Be right back," I said, gently removing myself from his hold. He had an en-suite bathroom, so I didn't have to go far. I rifled through my purse for some makeup wipes and disappeared behind the door. I wiped my face off then cleaned up before he dried in between my thighs. We had been committed, and I had trusted him completely, so I didn’t mind that we hadn’t used protection.

Yep, and how had that turned out?

I didn't want to think about it, but the thoughts flooded through me as soon as I had allowed that little trickle of doubt in. Laying there with him it had felt right again. His force in my life was undeniable. I had been a fool thinking one measly year was all it would take to get over him. I had carved space for him in my life, and he had never stopped filling it, even when he broke my heart and left me.

He had done it once. Who was to say I was safe if I let him back in again? According to him, it was his deployment that did it. He was still in the army, even though he was home now. He could get deployed again – he probably would. What would that mean? Would he do it again? Decide for the both of us that we couldn't be together anymore?

I had just shared my body with him. The satisfaction sapped out of me, replaced with fear and something else. Regret. Roman had always made me feel proud and full and in love after sex. What if this was a mistake?

A year was nothing, but it was everything, too. What had happened that I had missed and what did it mean for us? I wanted to say the trust I had had for him was restored, but it wasn't. It couldn't be. We weren't on solid ground and look at how little it had taken for him to dump me before.

It had been too much. I had never cried over another person like that in my life. People who knew me and didn't know me alike would ask me what was wrong with me, whether I was okay because I had been such a mess. I couldn't go through it again. I couldn't. I wasn't sure a second chance with Roman was worth that much fucking heartache.

A sharp knock at the door made me jump.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?" I heard him ask. How long had I been in here? I splashed water on my face and patted it dry before coming out.

"All yours," I said as lightly as I could. He cupped my cheek, kissing me before he went into the bathroom. I waited for him on the bed, finding it hard to be comfortable there again. The toilet flushed, and he was out a few moments later, still naked. Even with all the doubt in my heart, I couldn't help the way my body responded to him.

He climbed into the bed and tucked me into his chest, facing away from him so we were spooning. I felt a kiss on my shoulder as he told me goodnight. I pushed back into him, holding one of his hands in mine. I wanted that physical comfort to make me feel like I was wrong about doubting him. I wanted so badly to feel as free and safe as I used to, but I couldn't ignore how we'd gotten here.

I knew now to watch my back. I would until he let me know I didn't need to anymore.

 

Chapter Nineteen

Roman

I was up even earlier than usual Monday morning. It was still dark out and I didn't have to be awake, but I couldn't sleep. It had been this way the last three years... Well, the two years before this last one. The start of summer semester.

As a player, it had never been an option for me to skip it. Summer was pool parties and trips overseas for a lot of students, but for us, it was summer training. Obviously, with that, we had had to take classes, too.

If you had been slacking off, summer was the best time to try raise your GPA since it wasn't as busy as the normal semesters. I wasn't a student anymore, but summer training sounded pretty good to me right then. It didn't matter how good I knew I was. If you didn't practice a skill, you lost it, it was simple as that.

The training in the army had kept me pretty conditioned, but I knew I needed to get actual play time, get my head in the game again. I was excited. I was ready to get started – I needed a life again. Ron was back in my arms, almost a sure thing; all I needed now was a way into the league.

Coach Fitz had set the meeting for noon. I was knocking at his door with a couple minutes to spare. He barked at me to come in.

What was the deal with coaches? Why were they always overweight? Why didn't any of them actually look like the athletes they were supposed to train? I wasn't going to say I could do the job, but it just made sense in my head. You didn't go to a doctor who smoked, why would you let a guy who looked like he'd never ran a suicide in his life coach sports?

I didn't know. It added up somehow, and I guess that was the only thing that mattered. Coach Fitz had reportedly played back in the day and injury took him out. He wasn't built like an athlete anymore, but it was clear that the guy knew his stuff. The team had always done great under him.

He looked at me as I took a seat in the chair across from him on the other side of the desk. He took his glasses off and leaned back in his big office chair.

"Roman Blake," he said, a grin spreading across his face.

"Coach," I said back in greeting.

"I had to start Greg Hackman when you left, do you know that? We lost four games back to back."

"Sounds rough; did he get better?"

"He had no choice. He had to fill your big fucking shoes," he said.

I laughed, relaxing a little. Coach had always been hard, pushing us when he knew we were half-stepping it, but he was a pretty cool dude, too. Maybe other guys on the team didn't tell it like that, but that was how he had always been with me.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I left you in the lurch."

"We lose good guys every year, that wasn't the bad part. It just came out of the blue with you," he said. "Where'd you end up? Korea? Europe?"

"Afghanistan." He whistled.

"Right in the shit, huh? Still got all your factory assembled parts?" he asked, joking. Lucky I did because that wouldn't have went down as smooth if I hadn't.

"Still like new."

"What about this part?" he asked, tapping his finger against his temple. I was glad he wasn't sugar coating it. I didn't like being treated like there might be something wrong with me.

"Sound of body and of mind, Coach. I'm ready to play."

"I bet you are. How much field time did you get in Afghanistan?"

"Not enough," I said. More like none. "That's why I'm here now."

"I was looking forward to sending you to the draft," he said almost wistfully.

"I was looking forward to going. I know I lost a year, but I'm ready to start over. Whatever it takes."

"You did lose a year, huh," he said. "The guys getting picked up by the league for next season? None of those guys did." I nodded gravely.

"I know. I'm confident about building my base back up. I'm still in good shape, strength, cardio… I'm ready to give it everything."

"Are you coming back this semester?"

"Is that what it's going to take?"

"Why are you here, Roman?" he asked me, straight.

"I've wanted to play ball since I was six years old. That didn't change when I was injured, not when I was deployed, not now that I'm on the other side of it. I'm ready, Coach. I'll do the work. I just need an in."

"You come back from a year off, and you really think you, out of all people deserve to land a spot in the league?"

"I know nothing's going to stop me. I'll work as hard as I need to, then harder than that. I know what I'm capable of, Coach."

"I think I do, too. Losing you was unfortunate, son," he said. "You would have had teams fighting to get their contracts in your lap first."

"Still will," I said, determined.

"You would have been as good as signed if you hadn't left. Would be an awful waste to let you go."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I might have a way to help you," he said thoughtfully. "I have a connection, works with a lot of scouts, league owners, and managers; he might have a way to get you into the combine." My heart jumped into my throat.

"When?"

"Your best shot would be the one coming up. That's next month." That was about a week away. I hadn't played in a long time, so it would be risky.

"I'd appreciate that, Coach," I said instead, knowing it was the right thing. When would this come around again?

"I'll make the call and get back to you," he said. I thanked him, grateful for the opportunity. The combine was mostly a fitness test, and I knew I was up to scratch there. In my life, I had probably done more hours of workouts and drills than actual football games. I left Coach Fitz's office with an anxious, excited ache in my stomach.

I climbed into my car and slammed the door shut. What now? I didn't want to go home. I could, it made the most sense, but I felt like that wasn't what I was supposed to do just then. The news was taking a little while to settle. I was happy, but I couldn't believe my luck. I knew for a fact that it didn't usually happen like this.

The pressure was on. If I had this chance, I had to show that it was because I deserved it. I never got nervous about football, but suddenly, I was. I knew I could perform, but I also knew I had to get this right in order get me where I wanted to be by next year, hell, maybe even regular season this year.

I had to tell Ron.

The thought flashed through me like second nature. I had to tell her. I was excited and wanted to tell someone but I didn't just want to tell anyone. We had always shared what was happening in our lives together, but hadn't in a long time. I had stopped telling her things when I got my warning order for my deployment a year ago. That had been the thing that fucked us up – me, keeping my mouth shut when I should have fucking said something. Then when I had chosen to say something, it had been the wrong thing.

I wasn’t making that mistake again. I pulled my phone out and called her. I remembered she was taking summer classes, so there was a chance she was actually on campus.

"Hello?"

"Babe? Hey, where are you right now?"

"Home. Why? Where are you?"

"Can I come over?" I could see her in her apartment, stretched out on her couch reading or at that dining table studying. What was she like as a roommate? I wondered idly. We had never lived together, but I was curious.

She said that I could, she wasn't busy. The drive to her place took no time. Her footsteps on the other side of the door at my knock were audible as she came up and unlocked it. A smile broke across her face when she saw me.

"Hey," she said. Her arms went around my neck and she kissed me. This was normal. This was us, close and familiar; it just hadn't been in a long time so having it again felt sort of like a novelty.

"Hi," I said, as she let me in. "What are you up to?"

"Cooking. I just got a slow cooker, and I wanted to try it out for dinner tonight. Where are you coming from?"

"School," I told her. "I had a meeting today."

"Meeting? Who with?" she asked, sitting on her couch. I followed and sat next to her.

"Coach Fitz." Her brows went up.

"What about?"

"Football. He wanted to know what my next move was, what I wanted."

"That's to go pro, right?"

"Right. I thought if anyone could help, he could. He would know better than anyone what my skill level was, I figured he'd be the best place to start so I could get back into playing."

"Are you going to be playing for the school? How would that work?" I shook my head.

"I'd have to re-enroll for that and get my degree. No, we talked about how I'd probably be drafted by now if I hadn't gone overseas."

"Can it still happen?"

"He actually said he had a contact that could get me into the combine next month."

"Next month? That's so soon. Can you do that?"

"He can," I said shrugging. "Depending on who sees me play, I might end up lucky enough to get scouted."

"That means you're going," she said, as a statement, not a question.

"I want to, yeah. I can't miss out on something like this. The longer I wait, the harder it'll be to get in the league early enough to have a long career."

"How long would you be gone?"

"About a week. What do you think?"

"You don't need my permission to do these things, Rome," she said lightly. Her voice was light, but she looked troubled.

"I still want to know what you think. It's a big decision. I wanted to talk to you first."

"Why? You need to go, of course; you have to."

"The last time I had to leave I didn't tell you," I said. She sighed and looked down, and I immediately felt bad for bringing it up. I just needed her to know that I wasn't keeping things from her anymore.

"This is your future, the one you've always wanted. You'll do great," she said, giving me a small smile. Again, she was encouraging me, but it felt strained.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. She sounded distant and distracted – it wasn't nothing.

"Ronnie, tell me what's wrong," I urged.

"It's nothing, okay? I didn't expect you to get feedback this fast. I'm a little surprised, that's all. This is good news for you," she said.

Just for me? When we had been together a win for one of us was one for both of us. We were just getting back on track after not being with each other for a while, but I didn't want to feel good about it if Ron wasn't. She was my main focus besides football, and I cared that I was making her feel secure with what was happening.

"It is. I've wanted this for a long time."

"I know you have. This is good. I'm happy for you."

"We should talk about it," I said.

"What do we need to talk about?"

"Something's bothering you, babe."

"It's nothing," she said. She stood up suddenly, walking around the room. I stood and followed her.

"I know you, Ron, something's wrong. I want you to talk to me."

"Really, it's just... It's nothing to do with you. I'll get over it."

"If there's something wrong, I want us to talk about it together. I made this mistake last time, Ron. I won't do it again," I said, coming up to her.

"This is your big thing. I don't want to make it about me," she said, looking down. I cupped her face and tilted it gently up so she looked at me.

"It is about you, babe. If we're together, I'm thinking about both of us. Okay?" She sighed.

"Okay."

"Will you have dinner with me Wednesday? We can talk about it then." She nodded her head weakly. I kissed her, hoping she could feel how serious I was. She deserved more than that from me, and I wasn't chasing her away again.

"All I'm going to ask you for is a chance to prove myself, Ron. That's all I want." Her hands wrapped around me as she buried her face in my chest. I rubbed circles on her back, hoping she wasn't crying. I needed to make sure she wasn't crying because of me, that I didn't do that to her again.

"I'm trying, Rome, but I can't forget," she said. Her voice was muffled and small. I held her face so she would look at me again. She wasn't crying but her face...that look. Fear, uncertainty, hurt, I had done that to her. She was right to be cautious, what normal person wouldn't be?

"It was my fault. Let me make it right. I want to earn your trust back."

"I don't want to regret this," she said.

"You won't," I said firmly, then slowed down. "Please. Let me in."

"Okay," she said finally. I sighed, relieved. I pressed my lips to hers one more time.

"I'll never make you regret trusting me again, Ron. I swear."

"Okay," she repeated, weaker this time. I wished she sounded more confident, but really it was my job to make sure she could, and that was just what I was going to do.

 

Chapter Twenty

Veronica

I pulled into Tiffany's driveway, parking behind her car. I sucked down what remained of my iced tea, making the ice rattle against the sides of the wet cup. I had passed on grabbing something to eat on the way here because Tiff and I were getting lunch a little later. The iced tea sloshing in my stomach would hold me over till then. Wasn't that how digestion worked?

 

I got out and knocked at the door. She answered quickly since she had been expecting me.

"Ready to leave?" I asked immediately.

"What? No, you just got here. Sit," she invited me in. She walked to the living room while I took a detour to the kitchen. I tossed my to-go cup and reflexively opened the fridge.

"I'm starving, what's the holdup?" I shouted. She walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe.

"You think you can have a date with my brother and then not tell me everything?" she asked, smirking.

"What's there to tell? I already said it was good," I said lightly. "Can I have this applesauce?"

"Go ahead," she said. I gratefully ripped the lid off the container and started looking for a spoon to eat it with.

"So?" she said. I shoveled cold applesauce into my mouth innocently.

"So what?" I played dumb. "The date was good. The kind of good I don't think you want to hear about as his sister. I told you already."

"You guys don't talk outside of dates? You haven't called him? He hasn't called you?" she asked. I shrugged.

"We're just starting up again. Besides, we used to go out; this isn't a new relationship where we can't stand to be apart for longer than a night."

"It could be, though. Don't you want that?"

"Tiff, I say this with love," I started, eating some more applesauce, "but have you ever thought that maybe being this interested in your brother's love life might not be all the way normal?"

"You're my best friend, and it's your love life, too. Why? Did something happen?"

"No, nothing happened... At least it... I hope it's nothing."

"I knew something was up. What happened?"

"Can we still sit?" I asked. We made our way back to the living room. She had been leafing through one of the left books we had gotten together at the store the other day, and she moved it to make room for me on the couch.

"Okay, spill."

"Like I said, I don’t think it's a thing."

"But?"

"But last night, he showed up at my apartment. I was happy to see him, of course, after that amazing date we had had. He came because he wanted to talk to me. I was scared. Like, what was it he couldn't say over the phone?"

"What was it?"

"You know that he's trying to play football again, right?"

"Yeah, and?"

"And, he talked to his old coach about it. He said he could get him into a combine next month."

"That's great news. What's wrong with that? How long will he even be gone?"

"It'll last a week, but that’s not what I'm afraid of, Tiff."

"Then what?"

"We both know how good he is. That place will be crawling with scouts; it's practically a guarantee that he catches someone's eye. Fast forward to when he finds out they want to offer him a contract, but he and I are together." I paused.

"You can't think-"

"It happened once before. He was protecting me, remember? What if the team that wants him is based in California, and he for some reason feels like he would rather dump me again than just tell me that?"

"He learned his lesson the last time he did that, Vee."

"It hasn't been long enough for me to believe that's true," I admitted.

"Doesn’t he get any credit for trying to fix things?" she asked. I shot her a dirty look, eating more applesauce. "I'm just saying. He's back and trying to make up for what he did. I think that counts for something."

"That trust took almost three years to build and he broke it in one afternoon. Has it even been a month that we've been talking again? I can't afford to feel safe doing it with him again so soon."

"Have you told him how it felt?" she asked.

"Sort of, here and there."

"Then he knows he hurt you, and honestly, Vee, that's the last thing he wants to do again."

"How do you know?" The applesauce was all gone and now felt like it was bubbling in the bit of my stomach

"Because of everything he's been doing since he got here. He's done nothing but try to fix things. That looks and sounds like he's serious to me."

Once again, I was confused about whose side Tiffany was on. I wanted it to be mine. Did the fact that I didn't want him to dump me again because of some shitty reason mean she actually was on my side? I just couldn't have the faith in him that she had. It wasn't her fault that she had it; it was sort of expected. I envied her for it, but I knew better than her.

"I don't want to regret letting him back in," I grumbled, licking the already clean spoon that I had been eating my applesauce with. A laugh suddenly fought its way up out through my chest.

"What's funny?" Tiff asked.

"I never used to feel this way, isn't that weird? Since we met, Roman has always had football and the army – two things that could have taken him away at any second from me. I never felt insecure about it. I always knew that they were there and that in two seconds flat, outta nowhere, he might have to leave, but I was never scared."

"Not even a little?"

I thought back. It wasn't even the football that had been the problem, it had been the army. I had always thought that when the time came, we'd talk about football. We had been in the same graduating class, which meant that if he did have to travel for a team, I was in a position where I could go with him and that was a step we could see taking together.

We had met and built our relationship on campus grounds, but I never felt like that was what defined it. I never felt like graduation day would be the day we said goodbye and went our separate ways. Call me stupid for believing that what we had would be able to last and mean something in the real world. It had been that big, that serious, and that real…to me anyway.

The army on the other hand... That one had scared me. I knew that when and if the time came, then I'd have to watch him go. I hadn't had a real plan for what I would do, besides write him and try to talk to him as much as I could. All I had known was that it made me nervous and would be miserable, but I knew I would have found a way around that.

So many people had their loved ones deployed and for so many of those people, they managed to make the army and its demands part of their lives. I thought that I could do it, too, if it came down to me needing to. For Roman? I had been willing to do just about anything. I hadn’t cared about needing to make changes and adjustments because that was what being with him meant and I wanted to be with him more than I could even express.

Too bad I was wrong for believing that even if we weren't together physically, I could have relied on the fact that my love and support was being received and reciprocated from wherever he would be.

"I thought that I had no reason to worry. I could be scared of the danger, or the distance, or the loneliness, but I never had to be scared that we would stop being us once we were no longer in the same place," I said, shrugging.

"Could you wrangle up some of that trust right now?"

I could try. I didn't say it out loud.

"That needs to be earned."

"He can't try to earn anything back if you're not giving him a chance," she said. "I was with you when it happened last year, so I'm not insensitive to that. I just want you to remember this hasn't been a fun ride for him, either. He wanted to keep you last time, but made a mistake. Let him talk to you. Once you're both over what happened, then you can stop being so scared."

I didn't know why Tiffany caring for her brother made me so upset. She was in an awkward position, but the girl code trumped the genetic one, didn't it? Maybe it was because it made me jealous that she and I weren't in the same position. She could speak so confidently about Roman, all this great stuff that she knew he would never do. I used to be in that place, too, and I didn't know when I would ever be able to go back.

We headed out to lunch. Tiff wanted Italian, and I could already feel that big plate of pasta sitting in my stomach like a rock. The applesauce snack had taken the edge off my hunger, but now my gut felt like it was burning. I felt anxious and a little sick. I was grateful that I had Tiffany who was always ready to talk, but I wasn't that happy about what we tended to talk about most of the time, especially lately.

Was this making Roman as nervous? What was I thinking, of course not. It was just like last time. It was still his life that was taking him away from me somehow, and it was still just me who had to find a way to deal. He was, once again, the one who would make the decision about what would happen whether he talked to me about it first or not.

"Didn't you have Beckett for Western Civilization?" Tiffany asked me from across the table. She was slicing her fork through an unctuous, cheesy slice of lasagna. I had thought about getting the same, but I didn't get away with food like that the same way she could. It was a lot more of a balancing act for me. I'd have to move up a dress size if I ate the way she did for a week.

"Yeah. Why?" I asked, eating a soft, drenched crouton. Soup was all I could imagine stomaching with the way I had been feeling since leaving Tiff's place.

"He was the one you said you got weird vibes from?" she continued. I froze with my spoon halfway to my mouth.

"What did he do?"

"It's just these comments he makes sometimes," she said lightly. "He's a good teacher, and he doesn't seem like the predatory type, but I don't know how he gets away with being that flirty with his female students."

I laughed a little. College wasn't high school; everyone there was an adult, students and faculty. Sometimes wires crossed. Professor Beckett was in at least his fifties and looked like he had lived every minute of those fifty plus years. He wore a wedding ring, so there was that; with the tweed jackets and thick glasses he wore, too, he came off goofier than anything else. He’d make the comments so flippantly, like this one time I had been in an admittedly lower cut top than usual and when he had greeted me when I came into the classroom, he asked whether all that was for him.

"Has he said anything to you?"

"He pointed out how nice it was to see my beautiful smile this beautiful morning when I went to his office today," she said. That didn't sound that bad, if maybe he was her dad and she was eight years old instead of twenty-one. He was so geeky, maybe that was why he hadn’t gotten hit with any sexual harassment complaints.

She asked me for tips on how I reviewed the course content when I took his class. For me, it had helped to study with a friend. Since we had had the class together, that friend at the time had happened to be Roman. He was so good at popping up right when I least wanted him to.

Not bringing him up was a challenge, but I didn't want him to be the subject of all the conversations the two of us had together. I never even used to think about him as often as this when we were together. It was embarrassing. Tiffany was asking me whether I had any of my old notes from that class, and I was wondering what would happen if Roman did so well at the combine that someone recruited him into a team.

He was a good player, I had watched him. He was the reason I knew anything at all about football – enough to know it wasn't a secret that he was on his way to the pros before his football career was interrupted by his deployment.

Because there was part of me that had never stopped loving him or being his friend, I wanted that for him, so much – but what would it mean for us? I could support his ambition. I remembered that being one of the things that I admired most about him, it still was, but how the hell was I supposed to support something that would take him away from me again?

Did he know he was doing two opposite things at the same time? Why was he trying to be with me and get into a team that would force him to leave me all at once? Did he even realize that was what he was doing? If he did, what was his next move? He had said yesterday that he wanted to talk about it, but now I didn't know I really wanted to hear it.

Tiffany and I split up after lunch, and I went straight home after running a couple errands. All my thoughts had been bringing me back to the same conclusion: don't do it again. Don't let him do it to you again. Stop it because it's going to happen again.

I typed a text message, meaning to send it to him before I deleted it. He deserved more than a text, I'd give him that. What kind of bitch blows someone off with a text? I didn't even want to reschedule, I just wanted to cancel. I tried again, scrolling down to his name in my contact list. I had the slight hope that he wasn't using the same number anymore, but it quickly faded when I remembered just how much I needed to talk to him.

I laughed a little to myself, realizing this was the first time that I was calling his number after a year. It sucked that the first time I was calling was to cancel on him. This time, it was me, not him. If he was another guy, I wouldn't care that he was a soldier and could disappear at any second, or that he was going to the combine where it was very likely that he would get picked up by a team based somewhere that wasn't here.

This was Roman, though. I’d had elaborate fantasies of a life that we could have together. I hadn't just loved him, I had loved our relationship, too. I had loved that the two of us knew each other so well and how solid I thought the two of us were as a couple. Honestly, I loved how much other people seemed to admire our partnership, too. I had felt so secure in what the two of us had and then he had just dropped me one day with no warning.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...and I deserve it that time. I didn't deserve it the first time, and I didn't now. I didn't want to be in a position where I gave him that power again. I used to love that I could be so vulnerable with him, but things were different now. I couldn't count on him for support. When he was gone again, guess who would be alone? Who wouldn't have any help picking up the pieces again and who would be the one thinking back, wondering why she didn't protect her neck?

"Hello?" I said when he picked up.

"Babe, hey. I was just thinking about you."

It slipped off his tongue so easily. He always called me that, but right then it disarmed me a little. Our date and the night we spent together had been so easy and natural until the doubt had crept in and I started to feel guarded again. We were talking now. He was being honest with me about what he wanted and that I was one of those things.

"No, you weren't," I said to him.

"I swear," he said back. "What's up?"

"It's about dinner," I said.

"What about it?" he asked. I took a deep breath. I should have prepared better to talk about this. I didn't want to get emotional. I wanted to say what I had to say without crying. Taking control of what happened between us should have made me feel better, but it wasn't. I didn't want to stop seeing him again, but the risk wasn't worth going through a repeat of last year's summer when he dumped me. I wanted to think the right thing, but I didn't know that it was. All I did know was it was what I had to do – right or not.

"I can't make it tomorrow night."

"Why not?" Another deep breath. An easy way out of this would be to say that something had come up, but I didn't want to say that to him. He deserved the truth.

"I just can't-" I stopped, finding the right words. "I just don't think it's a good idea for us to do that again." He sighed.

"I know it's going to take time for us to get to a place where you trust me again, but, babe, we won't get there at all if we aren't spending time together." His voice was really kind, and I knew what he was saying was right. That didn't change that I was still freaking out.

"I know that, Roman. That's a lot easier said than done."

"Have we been moving too fast?" he asked. We had already slept together again. I shook my head remembering how amazing it had felt, then the rush of uncertainty and fear that had come right after.

"It's not that. I just don't want to do it, okay?"

"No, Ron. That's not okay. Is this about what I said to you yesterday?" he asked. Yes, that with the fact that you dumped me the last time things got tricky. I didn't need him to always choose me. I just needed to know that I was important enough for him to at least consider me in the decision.

"It's more than just that, Roman," I sighed.

"Then let me see you so we can talk about it." I shut my eyes. No, Roman. Just no. I don't know if I can trust you not to do what you did to me, and I don't want to risk it.

"No, Roman," I said quietly.

"Ron, please. Whatever it is, we can't run from it. I can't take no for an answer."

I was quiet, wondering why the hell I had thought it was a good idea to try to fight him on this. I knew what I felt, but what he did was still sort of in the dark for me. He had said he didn't want me to regret trusting him, but didn't he realize the risk I'd have to take getting there in the first place?

"Seven thirty, I'll be at your door," he went on since I hadn't said anything back. "I'm not fucking up again, Ron. I said I would talk to you and we'd figure it out. That's what we're going to do."

He was being remarkably patient with me, even if he wasn't giving me what I wanted. I didn't like the feeling of giving myself over to him again, putting my trust in the fact that he wouldn't hurt me. I didn't like it, but I missed it at the same time. I hadn't been able to feel safe being vulnerable with another guy since, not in this way.

"Fine," I said weakly.

"Thank you, babe," he said. "You won't regret this."

I already did. I looked at the phone until the backlight went out. At least this time, I'd be ready.

 

Chapter Twenty One

Roman

I looked over at the flowers in the passenger seat next to me. It had seemed like a good idea picking them up, but now, sitting outside her building, I had to wonder whether it looked like I was trying to buy her with them.

The truth was I was ready to do anything to get her back, but at the same time, I had to be honest with myself that she wasn't. I felt like we wanted the same thing when we were together. All I wanted was to stay that way, and I'd put money on her wanting that, too. There was something there, though, something standing in our way.

Me. I was what it was. Not really me, but what I did. It just became me by extension because now, Ron thought the way to make sure she never got hurt again was to avoid me. It made sense. It was the normal, rational conclusion anyone would come to after being through what she had. But right now, I needed her to stop listening to her heart and just... Fuck, just listen to me.

Listen to whatever she had inside her that meant we could still go on dates, talk, and have sex, and she could be comfortable doing it. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle with her, and I got it. Giving up just would have been easier. Not what I wanted, not satisfactory, or smart, or even what I needed to do. Just easier.

Well, this is what the fuck happens when you break something. You put it the fuck back together again, I thought, heading up to her place. I knocked and waited for her, the flowers were in my hand, hanging at my side. I wished I hadn't gotten them; they weren't going to fix this.

The door opened and there she was. The first thing I noticed was her hair. It wasn't straight this time. Soft, bouncy curls tumbling down her shoulders, the way I liked it. Her dress was simpler, white fabric coming down to just over her knees. She crossed her arms looking at me.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hey. You look good," I said coming in. I cupped her face and kissed her. She didn't pull back or turn away, but her body language was reserved. I had seen this coming. She thanked me and invited me in. I gave her the flowers, getting a small smile out of her, but that was it before she disappeared into the kitchen to put them in a vase. I stood in her living room waiting for her to come back.

"Are you ready?" I asked her when she was out again. She moved the vase inches left, then right, then left again over and over till she was satisfied with its spot on the table.

"Yeah. Let me just grab my purse," she said. Would some enthusiasm kill her? I thought darkly. After that phone call yesterday, this was going to be hard. I knew where she stood now and it wasn't where I wanted her to be. It was my fault that she wasn't, but that didn't change that it was true. I didn't want her to be scared and uncertain when it came to me. I wanted her to feel like she could rely on me.

"Should we leave?" she asked, making for the door. I held her hand, stopping her.

"Wait. Ron," I started. She looked up at me. "What we talked about yesterday?"

"Yeah?"

"I know it's going to take more than me just telling you that you have nothing to worry about. I still want to say it, though. I need you to know that I love you, Ron, and I never stopped. This is probably more than I deserve from you, but I love you for giving me a chance. All I want is you back in my life and I am going to do whatever I have to do to deserve you again."

"It needs to happen naturally," she said to me. "We're not in the same place right now, and if it's going to work at all, then you need to allow me to catch up."

"All I want is for you to trust me again."

"Then you need to give me time to get there. I'm not going to lie and say that it will happen fast or easily, but I'm here, and I'm open to trying again. My feelings didn't fade, either. I just need to be in a place where I can feel comfortable again." She paused and sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing."