Second Chance: A Military Football Romance by Claire Adams (3)

"It'll be fine. Just trust me. I want you to."

"I'll try," she said quietly, shrugging. That was all I was getting. I knew that. I didn't even have the right to try to ask for more.

"Thank you," I said, kissing her forehead.

"Where are we going tonight?" she asked once we were in the car. She hadn't complained or asked to take separate rides. That was a small win, but still meant she was putting in effort.

"I was thinking that one place we went to for Tiff's birthday that one year," I said, pulling out onto the street.

"Before you left? The Mexican place when she was turning nineteen?"

"That's the one," I said, almost proud that she remembered so well.

"Are you set on having Mexican tonight?"

"Not really. Why? You want to go somewhere else?"

She did. It was this place a lot of the guys I used to play with used to come – buffet, cheap food, as much as you wanted, a great deal for packs of hungry football players, especially when we were bulking. I had taken her before, a few times because after the first time she hadn't been mad about sharing a dining room with the kind of people who you usually found at an all you can eat buffet. Part of the territory when you're a broke college student, but we weren't slumming all the time.

As soon as we walked in, she seemed overdressed. It was a huge, badly-lit dining area with the food lining one wall. Periodically, a person in a dirty apron would come through a pair of swinging doors and refresh the food that was running out. It made me think of the cafeteria on campus, but with more screaming children and more overweight people who had to use those buggies in the supermarket.

Ron was a creature of habit. On her plate when we finally sat down were potato skins and the awful, thick, soggy crust pizza they served that she loved for some reason. Her usual. It felt good that I knew that about her, especially for those times that she felt distant and I felt like I was fighting a losing battle.

"I can't believe you still eat that shit," I quipped.

"I like my pizza with girth," she said, taking a bite out of a slice. It was bread at that point. Bread with cheese and pepperoni on it. This was part of the reason why we never got pizza together, she hated thin crust and pineapple, while I couldn't stand the thick crust. She took another bite happily.

"I can't afford to eat like this every day, let me enjoy it while I can," she said.

"If it makes you this happy, why not?"

"Long as I'm happy weighing fifty more pounds than I do now. You boys have it so good."

"Just come to the gym with me," I suggested.

"Not a chance in hell. Not again," she laughed. She worked out, she was small, but she liked to take care of herself. She did it mainly from home; those easy at-home videos you can get online. Or at least that was what she had preferred doing before. Once I had managed to convince her to come to the gym with me... Let's just say that was the last time she ever did.

"You still do those little work out videos?"

"Are you saying I need to? Are you calling me fat?" she teased.

"You're trying to get me in trouble. You know I didn't say that."

"Choose your next words wisely," she said, peeling a pepperoni slice off the pizza and eating it on its own.

"I think you look great. Just ease up on the bread. It makes you bloat." She looked shocked for a second before she noticed my smirk.

"Just for that I'm getting another slice," she said.

"Just one. I still want to be able to carry you."

"If that gets hard for you, I think you should be the one who has to do something about it," she said, smiling at me. I laughed.

"They didn't feed us enough in Afghanistan to keep my weight up."

"You can still play though, can't you?" she asked. I said that I could, and then we got into MREs. She had heard about what they were but it was a different story actually eating them and hearing about what they might be like from a person who might or might not know.

At first, I was a little cautious talking about my deployment, but she was interested in finding out. It had been the thing that had sort of spurred the breakup. I had actually done it, but if I had never had to go, who knew where our relationship would be by now. I wanted to be able to talk about it with her. In some fucked up way, it was part of our history, even though we were apart the entire time. She never ended up getting that second slice.

It was around ten-thirty when I parked in front of her building and stopped the car.

"I had fun tonight," she said. She was looking at me. Her seatbelt was off and her body was turned in the seat, knees up against the center console.

"I did, too."

"Thank you," she said flirtatiously. It was pretty warm outside, but that had nothing to do with the warmth spreading through my chest. The whole car felt like it was heating up. I touched her knee, brushing my thumb against her unblemished skin.

"Anytime," I said. She held my hand in both of hers, turning it palm up. I watched her for a few seconds, letting my hand warm between the two of hers. The movement made the skirt of her dress fall down her thigh a little. She looked up and our eyes met. We hadn't had anything to drink that night, but her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted.

"Come here," I said to her. She let go of my hand and held the back of my seat, climbing into my lap. Our lips met, hard, and I pushed my tongue into her mouth. There wasn't much foot traffic this time of night, but anyone who was curious could look through the window and probably call the cops on us for indecent exposure.

She moaned softly as our tongues collided. I ran my hands up her thighs, squeezing her ass cheeks in my palms. I wasn't going to try to fuck her in the car – we were both way too old for that – but the night had been on a steady upswing since we had gotten to the buffet. You knew a date was good when you got to a girl’s house to drop her off and she didn't want to leave. We stopped before we started fogging up the windows.

"Let me walk you up," I said, opening the door and letting her climb out first. I followed, taking her hand. Our fingers laced together like they knew that that was what they were supposed to do. I always used to hold her right hand so she was on my left; that meant I wouldn't have to let go if I needed to use it. She let go, though, because she needed hers to unlock her apartment. I walked in after her. I could pretend that I didn't want to finish what we started in the car, but I wasn't going to lie.

"Are you in a hurry?" she asked, slipping her purse off her shoulder.

"Nope. Not at all. Why?" I asked.

"I don't really want you to leave," she said after a pause. I walked over to her.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to."

"Would you leave if I asked you to do that?" There was about two feet between us.

"If you asked me to, yeah," I said, wondering where this was going. "Do you want me to go?"

"No, but you have to, don't you?"

"What? I don't have to be anywhere tonight, Ron."

"Not right now, I mean later. After you go to the combine and someone gives you a contract, and you have to relocate to play on their team," she said.

"Ron, the combine only lasts a week. Nothing after that is set in stone. I can't say any of that is going to happen. Chances are that it won't."

"Yes it will, Roman, you're a fantastic player," she said, a little annoyed like it hurt her to say it.

"Even if something did, what's wrong with that?"

"You would leave. You wouldn't be able to turn down the offer."

"I wouldn't just leave. I'd talk to you about it first. We’d figure something out."

"Just like last time?" she snapped.

"Last time was a mistake. I know I didn't do the right thing. I paid for that for a whole year, and I'm still paying for it now."

"The end result would still be the same, whether we talked or not. You'd still leave me, and I don't want that. Not again." She turned her back to me.

"Ron. Ron, please, look at me," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Am I wrong?" she asked, refusing to turn around.

"I used to think that leaving had to mean the end of a relationship, too. I was wrong, Ron. Even if I did end up having to leave, we could work something out." Her head fell forward and her shoulders shook. Shit. I circled her body to face her again. She was wiping tears from her eyes.

"Where was this a year ago?" she said sadly.

I felt like shit. She had cried that time, too, but that had been because I had told her it was over and I didn't love her anymore.

"I know I fucked up. I should have come to you instead of making that decision for us."

"I felt so stupid. Like I thought we were doing so well, but then you did that and then suddenly you were gone." I was holding her before I could stop myself. She was stiff and small in my arms. She didn't fight me, though. She let me comfort her through her tears.

"I wasn't thinking. You were there for me and instead of talking to you, I took matters into my own hands and fucked everything up."

"You really hurt me, Roman," she said. Her tears were soaking into my shirt, and her voice was muffled against my chest. I squeezed her tight, kissing the top of her head.

"And, I hate myself for it, Ron. I hate what I did to you and what it did to us."

"I can't go through that twice," she said quietly. She pushed away from my chest, eyes trained on the ground. "If this is going to happen, I have to step away, Roman. If we say our goodbyes now, we-"

"No," I said, cupping her face so she looked up at me.

"Roman-"

"Veronica, please," I said. She looked down, shaking her head. "I fucked up and I made a bad decision, which lost me the woman I love. I'm not going to make that mistake twice." More tears flowed down her cheeks.

"I really want that to be true," she whispered.

"It is, baby." I kissed her softly. I just wanted to comfort her, stop her crying because I hated making her upset. It was all my fault, so it was my job to fix it. She pressed her full lips into mine again, wrapping her arms around my neck. I hugged her close. One of her hands ran down my chest, all the way down my abs to the waist of my pants.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" she asked.

"Of course. Whatever you want." Her other hand ran over my shoulder. Our eyes locked again.

"I want you," she said simply. Her hands were at the waist of my pants, pulling the belt free. She unsnapped the button, and her hand was closing around my cock through my underwear.

"Fuck," I groaned. She dropped to the ground, tugging my pants and underwear on her way down. She gripped my semi and jerked the tip, slowly. Those clear green eyes stared up at me. It had been a fucking year since I’d had my dick sucked. I hoped I could last long enough to enjoy this.

 

Chapter Twenty Two

Veronica

Roman's head fell back. A long string of expletives streamed from his clenched teeth, making me giggle. He loved having his balls sucked, more than other guys I'd been with. I kept my hand on his cock, jerking the head while I took his balls into my mouth in turn, gently. They were sensitive, after all.

I rolled them in my cupped hand and turned my attention to his cock again. After our conversation, I sort of liked being in charge, owning his pleasure and having him at my mercy. It made me feel like he was mine. Owning a person's body mattered less to me than emotional connection, but I’d had all of him once and I wanted it back.

I ran my tongue over the tip before sucking the head into my mouth. Little by little, I took him into my mouth. I swallowed around his length, doing my best to take as much of him as I could without gagging. Either he was bigger than the last time I had done this or I had gotten rusty.

I took the hand fisting in my hair as encouragement. I bobbed up and down, feeding him into my throat on every down stroke. My hand jerked the root, which I couldn't get my lips around.

"Godammit, Ronnie," I heard him whisper. He was groaning, deep, sexy sounds from his throat, cussing under his breath and gently tugging at my hair.

"Slow down," he said, breathlessly. "You don't stop, I'm gonna come." I gave him a few, last good sucks, hollowing my cheeks out on my way back up, then let him pop free of my mouth. I looked up at him, and he offered me a hand to help me back up. Before I knew it, he had scooped me up in his arms. My back pressed into the wall and then he kissed me. He was clawing at my panties to get them off. I slid them down, afraid he'd rip them.

He hoisted me up against the wall once my panties were out of the way. He ground his rod against my clit, holding my legs open. I bit back my cry, self-conscious that my neighbors would hear us. I reached between us, guiding him to my lips so he slid smoothly inside. He was big, but it never hurt when he was inside me. I felt full like he fit me perfectly. I gushed when he fucked me. The pleasure at my core flowed through my whole body.

Every one of his deep thrusts hit me like a bullet. Something about the angle made me gasp every time our hips met. I bit my lip, leaning back against the wall.

"Harder," I whispered. His next thrust made me yelp, arching my back against the wall because he hit my clit. Again. Again. I felt myself quiver. I wanted the wave to crest higher, but my orgasm burst inside of me, and I would have ended up on the floor if Roman wasn't holding me up. He pushed into me, chest to chest, then fucked me with quick, short, frantic strokes. He grunted, tightening his hold on my thighs before a groan ripped from his chest. He pumped in and out of me through his orgasm, and I felt him fill me up. Our pants soon silenced, and the room became still again.

He held me to the wall with his hips, kissing me. He was still inside me, but softening now. I was barely aware of anything else but his strong arms, taking my weight again when we were in my room suddenly. My back gently hit the bed as his body took the space on top of me. I knew he wouldn't be able to go again so soon after coming, but what was happening now? His lips kissing me slowly and deeply felt incredible. The comfort of feeling him close to me after what we just did heated me through.

Lying there, I believed him. It was all true. He loved me and he was sorry and he wanted us to start again. Things would be different this time, but it didn't matter because we had both grown from the situation and we'd know how to handle ourselves. It sounded tempting. Almost too good to be true.

I couldn't hold this over him forever, but wasn't it worse if I just trusted him blindly again? It had been a great few weeks reconnecting, but a great few weeks wasn't enough to make me forget the months I had spent trying to get over him after he dumped me. He reassured me whenever we were together that I had nothing to worry about, but trust isn't built in a day. The trust I used to have in him had been built over years of love and friendship. It was coming back, slowly, the comfort that used to be there.

If what I needed was time, then I hadn't had enough.

We ended up in the shower together, you know, to save water. We did it again, him behind me as I braced myself against the tiled wall. I was tired by the time we were in my bed together. He slept behind me, one arm thrown over my side and our bodies molded together, naked. He was asleep before I was and after two orgasms, I should have been more tired. My racing thoughts wouldn't let me rest, though.

Stop it, I thought. Stop looking for reasons to keep doubting him. This, him, the two of you finally back together is what you want. Stop looking for a way to self-sabotage.

Was it self-sabotage if the goal was actually to take care of myself? Being on the defensive was an unhealthy way to get into a relationship, but could you blame me? Even if I wasn't and I was just looking at the facts, pretended I had no involvement in this at all and was just a third party bystander, what would it look like to me?

Guy and girl get back together after a year apart. The guy is on the fast track to becoming a pro football player and the girl's just trying to maintain her GPA through summer semester. He's wanted to go pro all his life. Money, fame, and a career he's always wanted can all be his except for one little problem: the girl.

Faced with the decision, what does he choose?

What would I choose if I were him?

He kept saying this stuff about working it out, talking and figuring something out that didn't have to mean that we had to break up again. Even if that happened though, what was that? Long distance? How long did those last? How long would we if we were trying it? How long before he got caught up in his new world of professional sports and eventually getting caught up in some other girl's shorts?

What about me? I still had to graduate, and I wanted to travel. I wanted to start working and develop a lifestyle that I enjoyed. Would there be room for him anymore? Maybe I would meet someone and maybe the fact that the guy was with me physically and not miles away would be enough to make me choose him instead of Roman.

I wasn't making myself feel better, but why start crying about it now? This was us and if we kept being us, then it was what we'd have to face, later if not now. No, definitely not now. Right now was bedtime. A quiet night close to each other, intimate and peaceful. I tried again to slow my thoughts down because they would just ruin this for me.

I wriggled against Roman's hold so I could turn and look at him. I noticed how long his lashes looked when his eyes were closed and how young and handsome he was, too. I touched his bristly cheek, gently, but not gently enough not to wake him. He sighed deeply and his eyes opened, focusing on me.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi."

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. I just couldn't sleep." I leaned down and kissed his forehead, then his lips.

"What's wrong?" he asked me, leaning up on one elbow.

"Nothing," I reassured him, touching his chest. "I'm glad you're here with me."

"I am, too," he said. He pushed a tuft of my hair back behind my ear and kissed me. I deepened the kiss, pushing my tongue into his mouth and rolling over top of him. I reached between us for his dick.

"Round three, babe?" he asked, flirtatiously. He held me around the waist and flipped us over so I was on my back. I wanted him. I didn't want to think about a dark future that hadn't come yet. I just wanted to be there with him, for everything else to fade out and feel like I had him, right now, fuck the past and the future.

I gasped as he pushed into me. I closed my eyes and felt him – his heat, hardness, weight on top of me, tongue and lips on my skin. Even if he was leaving again, he was mine right now and nobody could take that away from me.

 

Chapter Twenty Three

Roman

Ron had signed herself up for morning classes for the summer. I was flying out to Houston for the combine, through Sioux Falls. My flight there from here was at eight thirty, and I didn't want the texts we had sent over the weekend to be the last things I said to her before leaving.

It was a week. Just a week. I had been telling myself that since I had gotten confirmation that I was in. Now, it felt a week too long.

Things were finally feeling good between us, the way they had been before I left, and now I wouldn't see her for a week. I parked in front of her building and headed inside. She had said I'd be able to catch her before her class if I went by early. I hoped a few minutes to seven wasn't too early. Walking up her stairs, I wished I had slept over or that we lived together.

I'd never tell her, not this early that that was what I wanted, but it was. Whatever happened this week would probably tell me whether we could even do that or not, but like I'd told her, we'd talk about it. I was feeling pretty confident, but I wasn't dumb. It would take more than confidence to get me signed anywhere.

I knocked and waited for her to answer. She was in small cotton shorts and a t-shirt that didn't quite cover her stomach when she opened the door – her pajamas.

"Hey," I said walking in. She leaned up to kiss me.

"You're right on time, breakfast's ready," she said, shutting the door.

"You cooked?" I asked, walking into her place.

"Frittata. Are you hungry?" I’d had coffee and cold pizza, just stuff I hadn't wanted to leave in the fridge while I was gone, but I could eat.

"Smells great." She pushed her textbooks and laptop over to the side on her table, freeing up two spots for us. I helped her grab a couple plates as she got the food out of the oven.

"Let's hope it tastes good, too," she said. She cut me a piece first. It had cauliflower, sausage, onion, and spinach in it.

"This is great," I said, trying it.

"Yeah?" she asked, smiling. I had some more. She had always cooked, but this was definitely a level up from what we used to eat when we got together. Cheese toast and ramen did the trick when you didn’t care to make anything better, but this was nice. She sat back in her seat, holding her coffee in both hands.

"I'm glad you like it."

"I wanted to see you before I left."

"Are you nervous?" she asked, before scoffing and shaking her head. "Of course you aren't. You'll do great." It was like she was mad and happy about it at the same time.

"Maybe I will be when I see who I'm up against," I offered.

"You'll still do great, though. You always did."

"That's the plan."

"Good luck. I hope it works out," she said. It sounded so final when she did, like I wouldn’t be back this time next week.

"I hope so, too. I'm kind of torn."

"Why?"

"I know the timing is shitty, but it's just a week. I don't feel good about slowing down right when things are picking up."

"Who said anything was picking up?" she tried to joke, halfheartedly.

I knew she felt it, too. She was just trying to be nice, saying she hoped I did well. The best thing that could possibly happen between us was me getting there and just not being good enough, the year off catching up to me and sending me back home empty handed. I didn't want that, but it would make things easier.

"I'm gonna call you while I'm gone," I said.

"It's going to be a busy week. I'll understand if you can't."

"That isn't an option, Ron. I'm serious about this. It's not fair to keep you hanging while I'm gone."

"Just stay focused," she said shrugging. "I know how much this means to you. This could be a great thing for your career." Again, it was coming from Ron, but still somehow sounded a little disingenuous. Like it was the same thing an aunt who had never really known you, but found out about the event would say.

"It means a lot that I have your support."

"I know how much you want to do this. I..." She trailed off and sighed. "It doesn't matter how I feel about it because the way that you do is going to affect that. I want you to be happy. I know this is what it's going to take."

"It's just a week. I'll text you when I get there." She was looking down into her coffee cup.

"Okay," she said shrugging again. We finished eating, and I left, after one more kiss at the door.

How much would I hate myself if I blew this off? I wondered. That was a dangerous thought to have, but I was having it. I wasn't not going to go, but what if I didn't? It would probably make Ron happy if nothing else. If she was serious about wanting it to work out because it was what I wanted, then maybe going would be the thing that made her happy, even though it wouldn't in the short run. I hated how complicated it was.

She got a raw fucking deal dating me, I thought on my way to the airport. It had always just been easier to think about this shit happening. Now that it was happening, I wanted to make it easier for her somehow. It had all started when I had gotten deployed. If that hadn't happened, I would be graduating with her next year and trying to get drafted out of school.

Things could have gone differently during my deployment, and I took responsibility for that. It didn't change the fact that this was still going to be harder for her than it would be for me. I had been dreading the trip out, but now, I wasn't so sure about who I'd meet when I came to her apartment when I got back.

I touched down in Houston after most of the day in the air. We started immediately. During previous years, the event used to be held at the team’s training facility, but this year was a little different. This combine was at the stadium. It was massive, and could seat close to 80,000 people. Out of all the regional combines, the one here in Houston seemed to always have the highest number of competitors. There had to be something like three hundred guys competing.

The field was full of people, but it was easy to tell everyone apart. None of the players were in suits, none of the scouts or team managers were there to take part. Football was like any other industry: it helped when you knew people and politics and business mattered. That was part of the reason why after games, athletes always had interviews and had to take part in other corporate events. It sucked if all you wanted to do in the first place was play ball, but the players were who made the league. Without them, it would just be all the suits at the top who wouldn’t have any way to make money without the guys throwing the balls. Making conversation didn’t hurt.

Since it was a scouting event, you were doing the right thing if you were talking to them. It would only make things better for you if you made a good impression during the evaluations and they actually got your name and talked to you personally. That was who I had to worry about, not the other guys here. They were my competition, but they had to worry about themselves.

Football was a team sport, but we weren’t working as teams right now. I wasn’t nervous. I had hit 40 reps with 225 in the gym this past week, maxing out at 41. None of the other evaluations scared me. I wasn’t all the way back up to my game weight yet, but I could probably get away with being a little lighter since I was tall.

I didn’t bother watching any of the other guys before me. I wasn’t picking up tips. I was taking a swig out of a bottle of water, rounding the field, looking for some shade when someone stopped me. They were wearing suits. Scouts. One was taller, but both had dark glasses on. They caught my attention, waving me over.

“You Roman Blake?” the shorter one asked me.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I told you it was him,” he said, elbowing the other guy in the side. “Lucky I never made you put money on it.”

“Can I help you guys with anything?”

“You know the kind of rumors spread about you, kid?” the taller one asked.

“Can’t say I do.”

“A lot of us never thought we’d see you get past college level. When you fell off? What was that?”

“Had to take a break, but I’m here now. Honestly, I never thought I’d make it to one of these.”

“Believe it, kid. You got a lot of eyes on you,” the shorter guy says. “Whatever your first offer is, don’t take it. Hold out for something better.”

“No pressure, huh,” I said lightly.

“Hit all the physical stuff hard enough, and they don’t give a shit about the rest,” the shorter one said. I laughed a little. If that was advice, I wasn’t taking it.

“That’s what I’m here to do.”

“And, we’ll be watching,” the taller one said again. I knew they were. That meant I had to kill it.

I waited to feel something, even when I was up and had to do my first evaluation. We weren’t playing, but the field was the one place I’d never had to be nervous because this was what I did. I could play. My body knew how to move, and it hadn’t failed me yet. It sure as shit wasn’t going to start today.

 

Chapter Twenty Four

Veronica

Tiffany cursed from across the table, taking her glasses off and rubbing her eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm just not sure I'll be able to get this done before it's due." She had been tapping furiously at her laptop, pausing every so often to swear and delete everything she had just typed.

"Isn't it due next week?"

"With work and my other classes, it's going to be tight. I don't want to swap quality for finishing it fast. I don't know why this is so difficult."

I watched her start over. We were at my place. Sometimes I worked better with a study buddy. Usually, she wasn't so stressed out, though. I figured it was just balancing work and school that was getting to her. It was hard. She had a lot on her plate, and I worried sometimes that she'd hit burnout and never recover. She was writing a paper for one of her economics classes, so it wasn't even one I could look at and help her put together.

"How about starting with something else? Or tackling the easiest part first."

"I should get this out of the way first."

"If you do that, you'll never get to anything else. Do something simpler first. No, you know what? Let's take a break," I announced. I got up and walked into the kitchen. I started on making us both cups of coffee; I knew how Tiffany liked hers. Sweet and white, maybe it would help. She took it gratefully when I came back to the dining room. Her laptop was shut and books closed.

"Better?" I asked as she took a sip."

"Let's see in about ten minutes," she smiled wryly.

"Can you believe the people who come back to school after kids and stuff? Can you imagine parenting and studying at the same time?"

"I don't know where the hell I would start. This is hard enough," she said. "I'm barely keeping it together having a job at the same time."

"You're doing great," I said, smiling at her.

"Maybe it's a good thing I don't have a boyfriend. I wouldn't even have time for him."

"Yeah, if he was needy like a five-year-old and not also a student."

"College relationships are pointless," she said, "no offense. I mean the other ones. Not yours."

"I'm in a relationship?"

"I'd say going on dates and hooking up means you're in a relationship," she said smirking at me.

"I don't know whether we're labeling it."

"You don't have to. The labeling happens whether you like it or not. You're acting like a taken woman already."

"Taken," I scoffed. I had a weird feeling about being taken, especially by Roman. I had been for so long, then suddenly wasn't. I didn't know whether I was comfortable with saying that I was again, no matter how many dates we went on or how many times we slept together.

"Did you guys talk before he left?"

"He came here yesterday to say goodbye."

"He did? That was sweet."

"He was still leaving, though."

"You're really not giving him that?"

"No, I am. I'm just saying. It's getting more and more complicated."

"Complicated in a good way, though, right?"

"It would be good if he didn't have to leave," I said. "I know he has to and he wouldn't if he didn't need to do it, but it still sucks."

"You're falling for him."

"We dated for almost three years."

"You fell for him then and it's happening again now. That's why you're so upset that he's gone."

"No, it isn't," I said defensively. It was. It totally was, but I didn't want to acknowledge it and make it true. She looked at me with the same deep blue eyes her brother had.

"I know he's going to wait for you, Vee, as long as you make him, but you have to see that he means what he says to you."

I was supposed to be the psych major, but it wasn't possible to shrink yourself. I just needed some time. I wasn't blowing him off, and I wasn't lying to him about how I felt. He knew I was unsure about what was happening between us. She still had a point, though, no matter what I felt.

"Have you heard from him?" I asked.

"Yeah, earlier today. He texted." Did he ask about me?

"How is he?"

"Fine. He said everything's going well. He sounded confident about his performance."

"That's good. Right?"

"He's there to impress scouts, so that's very good."

"He really wants this. I hope it works out," I said.

"He's lucky he has you supporting him."

"How can I not? I wish what I felt with him was simple. I want him to be happy, and that means this. Going away for the combine and then probably again to play for whoever signs him. I just feel the closer we get, the worse it'll be when we have to separate again."

"You have to trust him, Vee. Talk to him. He loves you, and he isn't going to do anything that's going to fuck things up between you."

"You're right," I said, admitting it to myself at the same time. I could panic and keep trying to deny that it was true, or I could accept it. It shouldn't have been this difficult opening up to someone who I had trusted and had a history with already. I could only say it was because of what he had done to me for so long. Part of it was just me, not giving as much as I was getting from him.

"He's really serious, Vee. I know I'm biased because you're my best friend and he's my brother, but you guys are good together," she said shrugging.

"I know," I agreed, sighing.

"Oh, and if you were wondering, yeah. He did ask about you. He asked me to tell him how you were. I told him to ask you himself. He's going to call."

"Don't tell me that. I'm gonna expect it now," I said.

"Well, you won't have to wait too long."

Eventually, Tiff had to leave for work. I ended up leaving to go to the grocery store. What did I feel like having tonight, I thought, filling the shelves of my fridge with produce. I had made the frittata the day before to clean the veggie box out and since Roman had joined me for breakfast, I didn’t have any leftover. That was the one drawback of living on your own and cooking for yourself: leftovers. They were good when you needed something fast and convenient, but if you overshot how much rice you needed to make risotto by accident, you were eating it for the next three days.

The mushrooms looked good. I thought through what I would need to cook them into a sauce that I could put over pasta. Roasting them with some sprouts, carrots, and peppers sounded good, too. I had never tried making mushroom soup at home before, I could do that. I could freeze soup and making it would justify the bread I had gotten... But it was summer, I couldn't eat soup. I decided to throw them in the oven with the peppers and sprouts. The leftovers could go in a salad, sandwich, or quiche.

Midway through prep, a call came through on my phone, hiding the recipe screen. The name stopped me for a second: it was Sean. I almost laughed. Sean? When had we last talked? Two weeks ago? Why was he calling me now? If memory served, the last thing he had said to me was an ultimatum. I give him one good reason to keep going out with me or he wouldn't anymore, like I was up for elimination on America's Next Top Model or something.

I let it keep ringing, I didn't even feel bad when he called back and I did it again. In my defense, I was busy, I didn't want to pick my phone up while I was cooking, but more than that...fuck that guy.

Was he still waiting on that reason to date him, instead of the new woman he met? I didn't have one, there was his answer. I had Roman. Putting it so black and white made my spine tingle. I had him. Why the hell would I waste time with someone who needed me to convince him to date me?

Why the hell would I waste time with Sean anymore anyway? He was awful. I'd never get any of the time we spent together back. He couldn't communicate; he was terse and emotionally unintelligent. His relationship practices and mine didn't mesh. I had Roman and whatever little interest I had had in Sean was gone.

I ate dinner in front of the television before heading to bed. I heard my phone vibrate again. Please don't be Sean again, I thought. Roman's name flashed on my screen instead. My excitement ticked up slightly. He had said he would call me, I thought. The fact that I had halfway been expecting it didn't mean I wasn't excited that he had actually done what he said.

"Hello?" I said, picking up.

"Hey, babe," he said over the phone. I smiled, rolling onto my side and tucking the phone between my ear and the pillow. The word Tiffany had used flashed through my mind again. Taken.

"Hi. How did it go today?"

"Alright. How was your day?"

"Just alright?"

"It was a bunch of sweaty guys trying to impress the men in suits," he said lightly. "Think of watching a practice session, but this one's in a huge stadium and not that interesting unless you know what's supposed to be happening."

"It doesn't sound very fun."

"It's not," he said. "It's work."

"But you're having a good time?"

"Good enough, I guess. It's good to hear you." I smiled.

"It's good to hear from you, too. I was a little scared you wouldn't be able to get in touch."

"I said that I would," he said simply. I couldn't imagine what he was describing very well, but I knew it was a big deal. It made me feel special that he wanted to keep in contact with me when he was so busy.

"What about the city? Is it nice?"

"Oh, you'd love Houston," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you weren't in class I would have asked you to come with me." I took a deep breath.

"Maybe next time?" I said hopefully.

"Yeah...maybe next time." I smiled at that. It wasn't a promise or anything, but it was the way we always talked in the past about the places we wanted to see together. "I can't wait to get back. I fly in Friday. What are you doing then?"

"I don't have anything planned. Why? Do you need a ride from the airport?"

"No," he laughed, "I want to take you out."

"The night you get back? Won't you be tired?"

"Are you blowing me off, Ron?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

"No. I'm excited to have you back. I'm sort of mad I let you go."

"Four more days. You can last that long, can't you?"

"Just because I can doesn't mean I want to," I said. "I got spoiled having you back in town again."

"I'll make it up to you, starting with dinner when I get back." I'm going to need more than just dinner, I thought. I hadn't expected to miss him so much. I had just had breakfast with him yesterday morning and here I was, wishing I wasn't falling asleep alone tonight.

"I'm looking forward to it," I told him. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but it scared me. I wasn't sure that I should have been ,and I didn't know whether I was allowed to feel safe being that vulnerable. Years together before we split said that I could, but I just wasn't ready yet. If I said I loved him, it meant I was letting him back in, all the way.

"I'm going to miss you," I said quietly, giving him that since I couldn't say the other thing.

"I'm going to miss you, too. I'll call you tomorrow."

"I'd like that," I said, smiling. We said goodnight, and I ended the call. When would it end? Would I stop feeling like this was new and exciting again? I loved the routines and comfort we used to have, but part of me didn't want this dating and discovery phase to end. I put my phone away and got ready to fall asleep. The phone call had been just what I needed.

.

 

Chapter Twenty Five

Roman

I sat staring at the wall in front of me. The book I had gotten to read while I waited was this murder mystery thriller title and almost fifty pages in wasn't really doing it for me. I felt like I had to commit to it now, though, since I was already invested. Plus, it was too late to go try to buy another.

I felt like airports were like hospitals, everyone in there was suffering a little bit somehow. I didn't dislike traveling, but it was a hassle sometimes. Today, I was just wishing I had managed to get myself an earlier flight than the one I had.

I thought about talking to Veronica, but I had been texting her all week. I wanted to see her already. We had a date tonight, was the light at the end of the tunnel as the week had dragged on. I didn't like the distance between us, even though it was necessary. Now that this was over, I was looking forward to some time with her. If I ended up hearing back from anyone, it would probably only be in a couple weeks or something.

Leaning back in my seat, I tried to get into the book. A man walking by came up and asked whether the seat I was using for my duffel was taken. I told him it wasn't and moved it to the floor so he could sit. He was in a suit and sat up straight in his seat. He was talking on his phone with one of those earpiece things that made people look crazy, walking around talking out loud on their own.

"Are you here from the regional combine?" I heard him say, then repeat because it turned out he wasn't talking on his phone anymore. I turned to look at him. He looked about late thirties or early forties, trim, normal-looking with short hair.

"Yeah, actually. I am," I said, a little surprised. Either that had been a good guess because so many guys were flying back home after the event so this place was rotten with us, or he recognized me somehow. If he did, that only made one of us.

"I'm Andrew. Andrew Richardson," he said, introducing himself.

"Roman Blake," I said, shaking the man's hand.

"I remember you," he said.

"Yeah?"

"I saw you at the combine. You had the bench press record. 42 reps, right? That was impressive."

"Thanks," I said, not sure why he felt like telling me all this. I knew he wasn't a player. He wasn't really built like one, and he looked like he had probably aged out maybe seven years ago. No offense meant.

"Yeah. I scout for a couple teams around here. How long have you played QB?" he asked. Shit, he really had been paying attention.

"Most of high school. For college, I started for two years."

"Just two?"

"Two years was as long as I was in school. I just got back from Afghanistan." He sat forward a little, impressed.

"So this isn't even you at one hundred percent?"

"I made sure I kept my conditioning up, but I haven't really played, not for about a year."

"I thought you were good, kid, but that changes everything," he said. "Listen, I'm not supposed to tell you this, not this early, but my people have their eye on you."

"They're interested in signing me?"

"You're a real QB. If that's how you look after a year off, what the hell are you gonna pull out after training? I'm not supposed to tell you this, either, but give it a week or so, someone will be calling you and they might be making you an offer," he said grinning.

"That sounds great. What team?"

"That gonna be something that makes you say no?"

"No, I'm just curious," I said quickly.

"Relax. I'm just messing with you. Where are you from?"

"Aberdeen. South Dakota."

"Aberdeen, huh? Well, how does Miami sound?"

Miami? Far. It sounded far. I didn't say that, though. I said it sounded good and that I had never been. He gave me his card, and when I thanked him and said I would call, he insisted on taking my number himself. He ended up boarding before me for another flight, so I was alone again. I tried to get into the book, but it didn't work. I read the same three sentences over and over till I gave up.

Miami?

All those times Ron and I used to talk about going to see the ocean together swelled up in my memory. Miami was right on the water. It was also thousands of miles away. I knew that I would have to deal with some distance, but how far was too far? Miami felt too far, and if that was how I felt, how would Ron feel.

Was I going to tell her? I had to, didn't I? I didn't want to hide things from her, the last time I had, it had been a disaster. How the hell would I break it to her, though? We're finally doing good and then this happens? I have to go to Miami? The boarding call for my flight interrupted my thoughts.

This was about to be a long flight.

"I'm gonna have to start charging you for these rides," Tiffany said as I walked up to her. "Normal people get cabs."

"Good to see you, too, Tiff," I said, smirking.

"How'd it go?" she asked. I threw my bag in the back and got in the passenger side.

"You know. Fine," I said shrugging. She started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.

"Just fine?" she asked. I shrugged again.

"It was football, I've been playing for almost as long as I've been able to catch a ball."

"You know what I mean, Roman."

"It was good."

"Hm." She made the sound the way our mother used to. I think it was a woman thing, being able to tell someone they were ticking you off without even opening your mouth.

"What?"

"It's fine if it didn't work out, Roman. What matters is you did it, and you're going after what you want." I looked at her, frowning.

"What are you talking about, Tiff?"

"I mean, it doesn't matter what happened this week."

"What do you think happened? I said it was good."

"I remember you telling me that you could join a minor league team and work your way up-"

"Tiff," I cut her off, "none of that happened. It was good."

"So, you're joining a team?"

"Not exactly. It's not as simple as just showing up. A scout told me that his team is interested in maybe signing me, but I have to wait a while before they get back to me."

"That's great," she said. "That's what you wanted."

"It was. It's just this team... It's not really close by."

"Yeah? How far are we talking?"

"Miami. How far is that?"

"It'll be a trip, but worth it. I mean, this is your way in. You wanted to get in the league, and if this works out, you will."

"I know. I keep telling myself that. It's just timing, you know?"

"I think I might, but I want you to say it," she said. I looked out the window.

"I'm finally getting somewhere with Ron."

"Don't, Roman."

"Don't what? I wanted two things when I came back from Afghanistan: to play again and to get Ron back."

"You didn't see this coming?"

"I did. I just didn't see Miami coming. I wanted to think I could find a spot somewhere closer where the distance wouldn't be that much of a strain."

"Roman, what are the chances that that's going to happen? If you have this opportunity now, you need to take it."

"I don't want to leave Ron behind."

"You can talk to Ron and figure stuff out with her. You can't do that with this team. They don't care that you and her are trying to work things out. You can't say no to this."

"I impressed one team – it could happen again."

"You don't know that. You can't bank on something like this happening again."

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

"I'm just saying," she said. Of course she was, it was easy for her. This wasn't her problem. She was quiet till we got to my place. I felt better when I got inside, but not that much better. It was good to be back home, even though I hadn't been living here long and likely wouldn't be for much longer.

I didn't know what I was expecting Tiffany to tell me. What the hell would she have said? What had I wanted to hear? That her best friend, Ron was the person I needed to focus on right now so fuck Miami, and fuck getting in the league. I knew this was going to be hard,but I wasn't looking forward to making these decisions.

Obviously, I wasn't losing Ron again. People did the long distance thing all the time – maybe we could become one of those couples. Maybe we wouldn't have to because the team wouldn't end up taking me after all, there was that. I wasn't in yet, not really. It sucked because I wanted to be, but thinking about Ron took some of that sting away.

Why was this happening to me again? What the fuck was it that didn't want me and Ron to be together? First the army, now this. Were we being tested? This was bullshit.

And, I had to see her tonight. I would have been excited – and I was – but I was not looking forward to talking about this with her, even though I knew I couldn't hide it. I couldn't do that to her again, leave her hanging when she thought everything between us was good.

But wait, I didn't have to tell her anything right now, did I? All I knew was that the team was interested and that they were located in Miami. They hadn't set a contract in front of me or anything, I didn't technically have any decisions to make about them; it was a waiting game. That meant Ron didn't have to hear any of it. It wasn't something she had to worry about, why would I make her worry behind something that might not even happen?

We could just have a good time out and spend the night together. When it became a problem, she'd know about it. I'd give her that. This? This didn't matter.

I texted her that I was back and kept myself busy as I waited to go pick her up. It was 7:32 when I pulled up at her building. I was always excited to see her when we'd been apart for a while, but I was taking the stairs two at a time. We had talked the whole week that I had been gone – texts, Facetime, all of that. Would that be what it was like when we were long distance?

I shook my head, getting rid of the thought. We weren’t long distance now, so it didn't matter. If we ever had to cross that bridge, we'd do it then. What I had to do was get to her fucking door so I could kiss her again.

I'd made it a whole year without touching her, but I was feeling this past five days without contact more and more with each step I took towards her door. I hadn't made reservations anywhere, but I was sure we'd luck out somewhere if we left early enough. With the way I was feeling, though, I was doubting how early we'd be able to make it out.

It was a short wait between my knock and her answer. The door swung open and her arms were around me in a second flat. I hugged her close, lifting her into me. The smell of her hair hit me first, sweet like vanilla. I squeezed her kissing her neck and shoulder. Oh yeah, I had missed her. I let her go when she unwrapped her arms from my shoulders. And then, she kissed me.

I held her close parting her lips with my tongue. Maybe I'd leave more often if she was this happy to see me when I got back. I could get used to this.

"Hey, how was your flight?" she asked me shyly, pulling away. I kissed her again, one more time, soft on her lips.

"It was good. Definitely better being back, though," I said. She giggled.

"We should go inside," she said, looking up and down the hallway. She took my hand leading me inside.

"Are you about ready to go?" I asked, then stopped. Her dining table was on the right when you walked in, usually covered with school stuff. Tonight, instead of books, it was covered in food. I noticed the two opposite place settings and looked at her.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked her.

"I wanted it to be a surprise, that's why I didn't tell you."

"You cooked us dinner?"

"I wanted to stay in with you tonight. I thought you'd like it," she said, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Are you hungry?"

We had never lived together, but something about coming home and finding a home cooked meal just for me was suddenly making me think we had to try it out.

"Starving," I said, checking out the spread.

"Great. I'll be right back. Sit," she said, turning and disappearing into the bedroom.

One of the dishes was full of bacon-wrapped chicken breasts. Other had mashed potatoes in it. One was full of salad, and the last was cauliflower, broccoli, and carrots in a creamy sauce. She had asked me to wait, but would she be upset if I started without her?

She popped back out of her bedroom, in a t-shirt and shorts and her hair down.

"Ready?" I asked.

"One more thing?" I sat as she disappeared into the kitchen then came back out with a bottle of wine.

"This all looks amazing, babe," I told her.

"Good," she said smugly, smiling at me. She handed me the dish full of salad. "If you taste it and it isn't great, don't tell me." I took the wine and opened it, pouring us both glasses. She loaded my plate with food as I did that, obviously confident that I'd love her cooking. I was excited to try it, especially if this spread was going to be half as good as the breakfast we’d had before I left.

"So?" she asked, watching me taste a piece of the chicken. She knew it was delicious; she just wanted me to say it.

"It's amazing. When did you start cooking like this?"

"I invested in a few cookbooks. I eat in all the time already. I wanted to try to have some fun with it."

"You cook like this every night?"

"I wish," she said, taking a sip of her wine. "It's just me usually, so nothing this grand."

"Tell me when you're feeling domestic. I'll eat anything you put in front of me," I said. "I was getting sick of the hotel food."

"Hotel food's great."

"Not for five days straight. I ended up at this barbecue spot three nights in a row."

"What else did you do? Besides play football and eat barbecue?" she asked.

Talking to her now, I wished that I had done more. I hadn’t really been thinking about seeing the city or exploring, anything like that, while I was gone. Besides showing out at the combine, I was focused on getting back home, mostly.

I thought about telling her what happened at the airport back in Houston. I mean, getting notice by a team was what I had gone there to do in the first place. She wouldn’t have been surprised by it. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t feel another way, though. If I got into it I’d have to tell her that the team that hinted at wanting me was in Miami. Why would I ruin the night bringing up that shit? All I had gotten from that Richardson guy was a hard maybe, not a yes.

I helped her clear the table off when we were done. She emptied the leftovers into Tupperware containers and put them in the fridge while I started on the dishes.

"You don't have to do that, Rome," she said, putting a hand on my back.

"You cooked, I can clean up. Have some wine, this won't take long."

"Leave them there, I never even remember to wash them at night anyway," she said. Her hand crept up to my shoulder. "Come to the living room with me."

"Ten minutes," I told her. "Have some wine. I'll be right out." Her arms wrapped around me from behind.

“You think this is what I want you to do the first time I’ve seen you in a week?” she asked. She came around from behind me and hopped up onto the counter on my right. Then, casual as hell lifted her shirt up over her head.

“Ron,” I said, trailing off.

“I don’t know why a dirty pile of dishes is more interesting to you than I am. I know what I’d rather be doing right now.” She hopped off the counter and started on her shorts. She pulled the zipper down, and they fell to the ground. Her underwear was white. I turned the faucet off and grabbed her, pulling her into me.

“You’ve got my attention, happy now?” I asked. She trailed her hands under my shirt, up my abs.

“Almost,” she said, smirking. Her hand went down to my pants, squeezing my cock through the fabric. I held her by the back of her head and kissed her. I had wanted to at least get her to the bed first but the girl was desperate. Who the hell was I to say no to that?

 

Chapter Twenty Six

Veronica

"Fuck me," I heard him mumble behind me. His tongue touched my lips and I shut my eyes. He groaned, lapping me up. I spread my legs to give him better access. His hands pulled my ass cheeks apart, smacking me playfully. His tongue ran over my entrance, sliding in and out before he sucked on my clit.

"I love the way you taste," he said, sliding his tongue between my folds. I felt wanton, desperate as his mouth slid over my intimate flesh. He trailed his tongue up to my asshole, rimming me while his fingers slid into my pussy. I pushed back into him, feeling my legs quiver. His fingers were relentless, plunging into me with merciless speed. I moaned, glad I was against the counter and didn't have to hold myself up. I felt him twist them inside me, pull them apart so I stretched around him.

"Roman, I'm going to come," I gasped. He didn’t slow down. I exploded, squeezing tight around his fingers as I came. He didn't stop till my body stilled. I felt his lips kiss the cheek of my ass softly before I heard him stand. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest. I turned my head so I could kiss him, tasting my own tang on his tongue. His hands freed his cock, and I felt it pressed between us. 

"I missed you so fucking much," he whispered harshly.

"Roman, please," I begged. He pushed me gently onto the countertop so I was facing away from him. My body buzzed with anticipation as my breath caught in my chest. 

I shuddered as he slid smoothly into me. I wanted to weep, it felt so fucking good. I would have been embarrassed about how much I wanted him if it wasn’t obvious that he wanted me back just as bad. I hardly knew who the hell I was, it had hardly been a week. Sex with him was all I had had for almost three years before he left, but now I was throwing myself at him after a week apart.

He had never left me wanting more, but now, I couldn't get enough. The fact that he was behind me and I couldn’t see him just made it hotter. He pulled out almost all the way, sinking into me with shallow, pulsing strokes. I moaned his name, trying in vain to grip onto something on the smooth countertop.

"Hang onto something," he said suddenly. I was about to ask him what, but one of his hands was already on my hip, steadying me, and the other around my leg. I leaned forward into the counter as he lifted my leg up. I straightened it, holding myself up to get better footing with my other leg. I felt his thick, round tip press into me again and his breath on the back of my neck.

"Don’t worry, I’ve got you," he said, holding my hips and thrusting powerfully inside. I screamed. He was deep, deeper than I'd ever felt him. I flattened down onto the countertop and whimpered, feeling him sink into me. Slow and shallow or hard and deep – I was a sweating, panting mess because of him. A growl rumbled in his chest as he came, thrusting hard through his orgasm. He finally slowed and gently pulled out of me. He kissed the back of my neck as he helped me back upright. I wobbled on my feet, dazed.

"You okay?" he asked, kissing my temple. I hugged him around the neck and kissed his lips. Standing there in my kitchen with nothing but my bra on, I felt incredible.

"Do you have to go home tonight?" He shook his head. "Stay here?" I asked. He didn’t say yes or no. He just kissed me.

We ended up in the shower. He pressed me up against the wall and fucked me, slow and hard till I was almost crying for release. When we finally made it to the bed, I was exhausted. If he had another round in him, I had no idea whether I'd be able to match him.

"Are you asleep?" he asked me. His body was turned to face me; I was on my back. His hand was playing with a bit of my damp hair that I knew I'd regret not blow-drying when I woke up tomorrow morning.

"Almost," I sighed, looking over at him. He slid closer, kissing my forehead.

"Go to sleep," he said, tucking me into his chest.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"What?"

I absently ran my fingers over his chest. Football training and lifting had made him hard and broad. His strength never scared me, though, it comforted me. I trusted him enough to know that he would never use his size and strength to intimidate me. It didn't exactly hurt, too, that he was good to look at.

"What would happen if you got signed to a team?"

"I'd go play for them."

"You'd have to relocate, right?" I asked. His chest filled and he exhaled heavily.

"That’s usually what happens. Yeah. Unless I refused the offer."

"What if you took it, hypothetically, and this team is in San Diego or somewhere far like that?"

"Since the team and scenario are hypothetical, I'd hypothetically move over there and sign a hypothetical ten million dollar contract." His arm tightened around me.

"What about in an actual scenario? An actual team in San Diego wants you to play for them."

"I don't like this game," he sighed.

"It's not a game, Rome," I said, wriggling out of his hold. "There is a chance you'll have to make a decision like that, isn't there?"

"Yeah, eventually, but I'm thinking about other things right now."

"So you'd say no?" I blurted out.

"I'd decline if it clashed with something that was important to me." I frowned, sitting up. "What is it, babe?" he asked, putting his warm hand on my back.

"I don't know," I said shaking my head. "It's everything. I feel so close to you, but then every time I think I have you back, I have to remember that I have to share you."

"Please don't be upset, Ron," he said, sitting up, as well.

"It's dumb. I'm being dumb. I'm sorry," I said, feeling embarrassed. He pulled me into his lap where he was sitting up against the headboard. We were both naked, but all I felt was comfort in his arms. I buried my face in his chest. "I know this is not your only priority. I just wish I could be selfish."

"Right now, fixing what I did and making it work between us is all I'm trying to do."

"Don't say that if you don't mean it," I told him.

"I swear, Veronica," he said, rubbing a reassuring hand over my back.

I didn't want to cry, but I felt like I might. I hadn't felt like this when he had said it to me last week before our date. I had heard him and known he wasn't lying to me, but now I felt it. He loved me. 

"I really want to make it work, too," I whispered. 

"Then we will," he said. "Can we go to sleep?" We did. I fell asleep pressed against his large, warm chest, our fingers laced together.

 

Chapter Twenty Seven

Roman

I woke up and checked the time. A little while before six, typical. I shut my eyes, rolling over, pulling Ron into my chest. She had spent the night after coming over Saturday. It was Monday today. Out of the last two weeks, I'd say maybe I'd woken up alone four or five times?

Veronica's apartment was nicer, I'd admit to that, but she hadn't said no once when I had asked her to come over. I hadn't when she had asked me, either. I didn't know whether that meant we were living together or what. All I knew was it was great. Really great.

Her alarm started ringing. She buried her face in my chest with a groan. I chuckled. I had tried to get her to bed at a reasonable time last night, but she had had other ideas. As a result, we were both still naked.

"What time is it?" she asked, not moving.

"Time to hit the snooze button," I said, kissing her forehead. She sighed heavily and sat up, reaching down to the floor for her phone. Whenever she did that I'd tell myself I had to get nightstands, but I hadn't gotten round to doing it yet. She stopped the alarm and fell back into the pillow.

"You alright, babe?" I asked, brushing her messy hair off her forehead.

"It's too early," she grumbled.

"You're right. It is. Stay here."

"Huh?" she said, looking at me. Her lips were swollen, pouty from sleep, and her brows were furrowed like she was upset.

"Stay," I said again, simply. I leaned over and kissed her. She moaned, running her hand over my chest.

"I have to get ready to leave. It takes longer to get to school from here than it does from my place."

"You can miss your early class, right?" I asked lightly. She giggled as I kissed her neck.

"With the amount of debt I'm going to owe, I need to get my money's worth," she said.

"It's one class," I insisted, kissing down her chest. I cupped her tit, rolling her nipple between my fingers. She moaned again, pushing her chest into my hand.

"Not now, babe," she said, running a hand through my hair.

"I'll be quick," I said, disappearing under the covers. She laughed, pressing her thighs together so I couldn't get to her. I kissed the back of her thigh, nipping lightly with my teeth. She squealed.

"Roman," she whined. I laughed, doing it again. She scooted away from me, pushing herself up so she was sitting with her legs hanging off the bed.

"If we do this, I'm gonna end up falling asleep again," she complained.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," I said, coming up behind her. I kissed her neck wrapping my hands around her waist.

"I can't skip class for you," she whispered. I tried to cop a feel, but she moved my hand. "I'll be back in a little while."

"What am I supposed to do till then?" I asked, kissing her neck again.

"Wait for me," she said, turning and kissing me on the lips. I let my hands drop as she stood. I knew she wouldn’t let me convince her to stay, but it had been worth a shot. Maybe one day it would work, and I was going to make sure that when that day came, it was the one when I asked her.

I checked her out as she walked away into the bathroom. She never really got a lot of color, but her pale skin was soft and creamy. Her body was tight and toned. I didn’t really get those exercise videos she liked to do online, but they worked for her. Fuck, she was sexy, waiting would be worth it.

I got out of bed and pulled on some underwear before leaving the room. I brewed some coffee in the kitchen so it would be ready by the time she came out. I was just pouring in the almond milk when she walked into the kitchen.

"For me?" she asked. I handed her the cup. She took a deep, long sip. She was still in the clothes she had been wearing yesterday, so she'd have to pass by her place to get changed before getting to campus.

"I don't know why I'm being nice to you. You won’t even spend one morning with me."

"You know I can't, babe," she said. I sighed dramatically, pretending to be hurt. She came up and kissed me again. "How about you come over tonight? I'll cook."

"You have to make whatever I want," I said, smirking. "Then I get to have you for dessert." She giggled and kissed me. We finished our coffee standing in the kitchen before I walked her out to her car. I thought about breakfast, but figured I might as well hold off till after the gym.

I had been keeping up with my workouts trying to bulk back up again and last week even started practicing again. Coach Fitz didn't let me join every practice, but it was something. My phone started ringing on the bed as I packed up my gym bag. I didn't know whose phone number it was, so I hesitated before finally picking up.

"Hello?"

"Roman Blake?" It was a man's voice. Clipped and scratchy, but not a wrong number if they knew who I was.

"Yeah. Who is this?"

"Lawson Hayes, the Miami Hurricanes coach. We never met, but I saw you at the NFL combine a couple weeks ago. I have to say, we were very impressed." I was standing already, but suddenly, I felt like I had to start moving. I started pacing around the room.

"Thank you, sir. That's always good to hear."

"That's why I'm calling you today. I don’t know if you’ve gotten a lot of calls like this already, Roman. Honestly, we hope you haven’t. We're very interested in signing you and we want to make you an offer." I stopped cold and suddenly, I had to sit again.

"Sorry?" I asked.

"You're our first pick for this upcoming season, son," he said. For a second I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

"Uh, thanks. You were right about me not getting a lot of calls like this."

"Does that mean we have you?" he asked.

"I couldn't tell you today, sir. This is...unexpected."

"I understand," he said, laughing a little. "Take a little time to get back to us. Sleep on it, whatever you need. This type of offer doesn’t last forever, though; I hope you understand that."

"Of course. Just give me a few days. I'll get back to you in a week."

"You have until Friday," he said in a way that wasn't really mean, but sort of sounded like a threat. I thanked him anyway, and he said that he would be looking forward to hearing from me.

I didn’t know what happened for the ten, maybe fifteen minutes after the phone call. All I know was I realized I had been sitting on the edge of my bed, staring into space when my phone accidentally dropped out of my hand, hitting the floor.

Did this mean... Was I in? Were they recruiting me? What the hell was going to happen on Friday if I told them yes?

First thing in the morning was the worst time to get news like this because it was all I could think about the whole day. I tried to forget while at the gym, then at practice, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was Miami and how much fucking space was between here and there.

Don had texted me back by the time I got back home. He suggested that we hit a bar, but we couldn’t do that today. I needed him focused. I headed out to his ranch. He didn't live in the farmhouse that his dad stayed in, even though his place and his dad's were on the same property. His house was smaller, a little less than a quarter mile from his dad's. A porch wrapped the whole way around and it had two stories, even though he stayed there alone. He answered the door with wet hair and no shirt on like he'd just come out of the shower.

"Hey, man," he said. "What was up with those texts?" All I had said was that I needed to talk to him and that it was important. I followed him inside and shut the door behind me.

"Remember that trip I took a couple weeks ago?"

"To play football? Yeah. What about it? I thought it went well. Didn’t that guy on the plane or wherever tell you that he wanted to get you on the team he works for?"

"The coach called me today," I said. He turned to face me, holding a beer in each hand that he'd pulled out of the fridge.

"That's good, right? What did he say?"

"That I was their first pick. I have till Friday to accept or refuse their offer."

"What the fuck, Rome, that's great," he said, slapping me on the arm. "I don't see what the problem is here. You told him yes, right?"

"I asked for the extra time before I had to decide," I said. He put his beer down and crossed his arms.

"Why the hell would you do a thing like that?"

"Because the team's in Miami." He was confused before it dawned on him. He scrubbed his face with his hands.

 

"Godammit, Roman. I swear to God. I'll drag you to Miami myself if that's what it's going to take to make you go."

"I can't leave. Not now."

"Yes you can and you're going to," he said forcefully. "Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about throwing this offer back in their faces."

"If I have to trade it for Ron, then yeah. I just might." He swore, crossing his arms again.

"What the fuck are the chances that this will ever happen again? If she was out of the picture, just think. After a whole year not playing, a team picks you out of hundreds of guys and offers you a spot. How often do you think that happens? How many guys would murder you to take your spot?"

"I can’t make this decision like I don't have other things that matter to me. If you asked me a year or two ago, I would have said yes and been in Miami tomorrow – no hesitation. This is different, Don. Football's not the most important thing to me."

"But the girl you just got back together with is?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I know I don't want to leave her."

"You did it before and look what happened. When you got back, she was still in one piece."

"You can't compare this to that time."

"Why not? You had to go then, and you have to go now. You had to leave her then, and you have to do it now. Talk to her, whatever you need to do, but fuck it, man, you have to take this deal. "

Why did it feel like this meant more to him than it did to me? I knew he was my friend and supported me, but what was the big deal? He had backed out of his own sports career, maybe it would make him feel better somehow if I went through with it?

I didn't get it, though; he had quit. He had loved baseball, too, and he had still hung up his mitt to work here every day. He had chosen what mattered more to him and it hadn’t been baseball, so why couldn’t he see that I felt the same way?

"I have till Friday to tell them. I'll wait till then," I said, sipping some of the beer. How long had it taken him to make his decision? Had he just been so worn down by his dad that he'd thrown his hands up and quit, just like that?

I knew I had asked for more time and things could change over a couple days, but far as I could tell, I had to pick. Ron or football. Right now, it wasn't looking that good for Miami. Right now, if someone asked me straight up to pick, I was picking her. I didn't want football if it meant she and I would have to split up again.

 

Chapter Twenty Eight

Veronica

Roman didn't sleep in. He had sort of been like that before, but it had never been this severe. My alarm hadn't rung yet, but I was awake. He was next to me, looking at his phone. The light was illuminating his face ghostly white.

That hadn't been what had woken me up, though. That had been him getting up a little while ago to go to the bathroom. He was back in bed, but I hadn't managed to fall back asleep yet. Part of me didn't really want to.

It was Wednesday, which meant class, which I wasn't looking forward to. Not when I could just lay here with Roman. He wasn't even sleeping, but it didn't matter. I was warm and comfy, and I liked being close to him. It hadn't gotten hot enough outside to not need to use covers anymore.

We were in my bed. The night before, we had had dinner together, watching TV shows, and I had ended up passing out on the couch. He must have carried me back here. I was glad that he didn't end up leaving back to his place after making sure I was back in bed, even though the chances that he would do that were pretty slim with the record we had been keeping up. My apartment was starting to feel like something was missing when he wasn't here with me.

If I woke up – well, I was already awake – but if I got up, I'd have to start getting ready to leave, and I didn't want that. Cognitively, I knew the way that sounded. I felt like a thirteen-year-old girl dating her first boyfriend, who she couldn’t be separated from for even a minute. I wanted to stay with him, but I was paying back the full cost of my tuition no matter how many classes I missed.

Attending class was literally the easiest part of college unless you had a disability or were sick. I wasn't either – I was just hung up on the man beside me who I'd see again anyway. It wasn't that serious needing to leave for a few hours.

That didn't mean the idea stopped appealing to me. We were both dressed under the covers since nothing had happened last night, but that could change. I put my hand over his body, feeling the warm, tight skin on his abs. He didn't move. I peered up at him, checking to see whether he had noticed. He hadn't. I started moving it deliberately down to the waistband of his underwear.

"Ron?" he said.

"Good morning," I said, looking up at him.

"I thought you were still asleep," he said. I straddled him, throwing the covers off.

"Hm, but you're not," I said, grinding my hips into his crotch. I could feel him growing stiff and long. My alarm finally rang when I had my legs spread on either side of Roman's face, and his cock in my mouth.

"You sure I can't get you to stay?" he asked from the bed. I looked over my shoulder at him. He was still naked and hadn't bothered to cover himself up. His cock was already soft again, but I looked away. I couldn't let him distract me.

"I have to go to class, Roman," I said, pulling my jeans up over my ass.

"That's the thing. No, you don't."

"Yes, I do," I said, piling my hair up on my head and tying it into a bun.

"Not every single one. They give us a number we can get away with not attending because they get that, too. Come back to bed."

"You're trying to derail me," I said, trying to paint on some mascara so I looked like I’d maybe tried this morning.

"Right. I'm a dropout. You should stop hanging out with me. I'm a bad influence."

"You aren't a bad influence. I'm just weak," I said, finally turning back to him.

"Not weak enough," he sighed. I walked over to the bed and crawled over him. He immediately grabbed my hips and pressed our bodies together. He kissed me softly, a total contrast from the way his hands pressed into my skin.

"You can stay here if you want. I'll be back in the afternoon. Eat whatever you want, just tell me if anything runs out." He brushed a loose lock of hair out of my face.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," I whispered back. Two weeks ago I wouldn't have dreamed of repeating those words to him. Things had changed since he had come back home from the combine, but me loving him hadn't really changed since the past year.

When he dumped me, I’d felt like it had completely turned in on itself and become hate, but I had been wrong about that. When I saw him again, everything that I had fallen for in the first place slid right back into place.

The more I thought about it, the more I didn't think I had made it to the point when I stopped loving him, not romantically, not as a friend. I wasn't scared to let him know it anymore. This summer, we had found it again. Us.

"Will you be here when I get back?" I asked.

"I don't think so, but I can come by later." I had given him a key to my place for when he wanted to hang out here when I wasn't home.

"I should go. I'm going to be late."

"I'll be right here when you change your mind at the door and we can finish what we started," he said, smirking. I told him it wouldn't happen, but I didn't want to admit just how shaky my resolve to leave the apartment and go to class actually was.

I finally made it out the door and drove to campus. I texted Tiffany to see whether she was at school yet, and she told me to meet her at the library. She was waiting there with coffee for both of us when I found her.

"Hey, what time did you get here?" I asked. She always looked impeccably put together, something I couldn't say about myself, even though I totally had makeup on today.

"Maybe half an hour ago? I had a book overdue, and I didn't want to get lazy and not return it later." We started heading towards our classes. They were being held in the same building today.

"Half an hour ago, I was contemplating not even showing up."

"Yeah? Why? Are you sick?"

"See, now that would be a perfectly reasonable excuse to cut class. No, I'm not sick. I left Roman at my apartment."

"If you're about to tell me that you were going to cut class to have sex with my brother, stop. I don't want to hear it."

"Okay. I won't," I laughed.

"You were really going to cut class for him?"

"No," I sighed, "I know I can't do that. I'm not that girl. I'd hate myself if I did. Let's just say he can be really persuasive when he wants something." Tiffany made exaggerated fake throw up sounds, making me laugh. It had to be hard having your best friend date your brother. My sex life was his and as my best friend, she got to hear all the lurid details.

"Guess it's safe to say the two of you are doing well?"

"Better than well, Tiff. I never thought I'd be this happy with him again. After last year, I couldn't imagine even facing him. Now, it's like all that happened just to bring us here."

"As a person who's been rooting for you guys from the start, I have to say it's about time."

I sipped my coffee. "It took a little while but in the end, it was worth it."

"It's good that the two of you are stable now, you know, because of the Miami thing." I stopped walking.

"The what?"

Tiff turned and looked at me. "You know, the Miami thing. He got a call the other day...from these..." she trailed off. "Oh my God. He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I only brought it up because I thought that he had told you already."

"Told me what, Tiff?" She hesitated before finally talking again.

"Earlier this week? He got a call from a team in Miami that's looking to sign him. He's been in contact with them since the combine, but they only confirmed that he was their pick a couple days ago."

"When was he going to tell me?"

"He's going to turn them down. That's probably why he didn't say anything."

"Wait, what? Why would he do something like that?" I asked. Tiff looked at me like pointedly.

"Come on, Vee. You know why." I had an idea why, but I didn't want it to be true.

"He wouldn't do that."

"Turn down the offer so he can stay here with you? Oh yes, Veronica. He would."

"But he can't." We started walking again.

"He’s made his decision."

"You didn't try to tell him anything?"

"Like what? I think he knew he'd have to make a decision like this at some point and he's made it. It doesn't matter what I think or tell him. He knows what he wants."

And he wanted me. By the time I was in class, I might as well have just spent the time at home. No, if I had, then I wouldn't have found out that Roman was planning to turn down a shot at the league because he didn't want to leave me. I was madder that he would stay because of me than that he hadn't said anything about it. He couldn't do that. When would this ever happen again for him? This wasn't something he could gamble with.

I was nervous getting back to my apartment that afternoon that I would still find him there. After combing all the rooms and finding them empty, I was relieved. I didn't know what the hell I would have said to him if I found him. I probably would have brought it up, and we'd have ended up fighting.

I didn't want to fight with him. There was no fight here. There was only one right answer to what he had to do.

He had been waiting for the opportunity to play his whole life and he was choosing to stay here for me. Part of me loved him for it, but that wasn't important. I had come to realize that there was no good enough reason for him to say no to the team. Nothing mattered enough for him to pass this up. Not even me.

 

Chapter Twenty Nine

Roman

"I don't fucking know why we're friends." Don shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. He was squinting into the setting sun from where we sat out on his porch.

"Because no one else can stand you," I shot back.

He lifted the cat that had jumped up into his lap and put it back on the ground. It just jumped up again. There were a lot of cats on Don's family property. Some of them their cats, some that had wandered onto the property and just not left since they started being fed. Before they figured that they should have gotten the lot of them neutered and spayed, one of them had managed to drop two litters of kittens. Once in a while, Don would have them in the house, but mostly they hung out outside. One really old, big one with just one eye had fallen asleep near my foot.

"I have plenty of friends," he said. "You think I wouldn't have been able to replace you if you left again?"

"Good thing you don't have to put out that lonely hearts ad now."

"Like I said, I don't know how the fuck we're friends."

"You should be a lot happier about the fact that I'm staying. Maybe I should fucking leave."

"I wouldn't let you stay because of me, and you shouldn't stay for the reason you're doing it, either."

"I don't expect you to get it," I said, taking a swig of my beer.

"You're right. I don't."

"One day, when you meet the right girl, you will." He snorted.

"The girl who's gonna make me give up my dream just to be with her? No thanks. Wherever she is, she can stay there."

"I'm hopeful for you," I said, laughing.

"I'm not. You just had to go find her again after last year," he said.

"It would have happened sooner or later."

"Yeah. Wish it was later. You're really doing this?"

"Tonight. I'm calling the coach and telling the offer is great and all, but I can't take it."

"What will you say when he asks why?"

"Why the hell would he ask me that?"

"To talk you out of it. Maybe you'll listen to him if not to me."

"It won't work," I said simply, having another drink.

"You're an idiot," he said.

"You told me that already."

"I swear. Don't tell anyone we know each other. I can't be seen with you," he said, smirking at me. I knew he was kidding. It didn't matter what he thought. He wasn't the one who this was going to affect.

"Good to know I have your support," I joked.

"Do what you have to do, man. I just don't want you to end up regretting this."

"It's her. I know it is. Right now, this is where I have to be. I can't imagine a future without her. If football's still meant to happen, then it will. I'm not giving her up. That's not an option." Don sighed.

"You know what? If that's how it's gonna be, then I can't wait for the wedding," he said.

What was Don like when he was in love? The last girl he had been with was back when we were in high school and after the two of them broke up, he wouldn't even look at her anymore. I figured he could, for the right person, change and actually make them happy, but I knew he wouldn't appreciate the psychoanalysis.

"Oh, you're not invited. So you can fuck your way through Ron's bridesmaids?" He laughed.

"You know that's the only reason why single people go to weddings," he said.

He offered me another beer but I passed. I wanted to get home. Ron was coming over and I was cooking dinner that night. He tried to give me a hard time about blowing him off, but I ignored him.

It wasn't a competition, Ron did things for me that he didn't and couldn't do...and stuff I didn't want him to do, if we were being honest. I thought about maybe setting up double date or something where the two of them could meet. I didn't talk about Don to Veronica as much as the other way around, but something like that could be fun.

I had left all the groceries that I needed to cook the meal in the car. I passed by the store to buy the last couple things, wine, and dairy that would have spoiled if I left it in the car while I was at Don's, and went home. I could cook, if by cook you meant make oatmeal, ramen, rice...basically things you just added water to in order to make them not raw anymore. I was just making pasta, but I was making the cheese sauce from scratch. I had bought a rotisserie chicken at the same time as getting the wine, which I'd just carve up later.

The goal was to make it edible, and I was mostly confident that was what it was going to be by the time she got here. I wanted to be able to tell her that I was making the decision to turn down the deal before I made the call. Maybe she could be in the room as I made it. I had kept it to myself since my mind was made up already. I didn't want to take the deal. Tonight, I'd tell her everything. Nothing was standing between us again.

I was just slipping the chicken into the oven to heat up when I heard her at the door. She had a key and was walking in.

"Ron," I said, coming up to her. She gave me a small smile and let me kiss her.

"Hi," she said, pushing some hair back behind her ear.

"How was your day?" I asked. Her purse was still up on her shoulder, and her arms were crossed.

"Okay," she said, shrugging.

"Dinner's almost ready. Do you want wine?" She shook her head.

"No wine. I drove here."

"It's one glass. Besides, it's not like you have to drive back tonight."

"I don't want any wine," she snapped.

"Okay. No wine. What can I get you?"

"Nothing, Roman. I'm sorry you've already gone to so much trouble tonight."

"Trouble? What? Did you want to go out?"

"Roman," she said, looking down and taking a deep breath. "I came to end things tonight. I don't want to see you anymore." I looked at her, waiting for her to keep going, or just say something else that meant what she had just said wasn't true.

"Ron… What? What are you talking about?"

"I want to break up. I don't want to be with you anymore. It's over."

"The fuck it is. Where the hell is this coming from, Ron?"

"I shouldn't have let you back in. I had a life when you left, and you came back and acted like I should have just stopped everything for you. I did, and I wish I hadn't. It wasn't fair to me after what you did, Roman. I don't want to be with you, and I never want to see you again."

"Ron, you can't-" I reached for her arm and she violently pulled away.

"Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. I should have done this in the first place, that day I came to see you at the picnic spot. Never contact me again, Roman. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know. I just want my old life back." She turned and walked towards the door, stopping suddenly. She turned back and came up to me. She took my hand and placed my key in it. Then she left.

I ran to the door after her, only to watch her slam her car door and back out of the driveway. She was gone.

I closed the door and looked at the key she had put in my hand. I had given her the key because she had given me one of hers, to be able to get in her place just in case she was out. I still had it. I thought for a second that I needed to return it, but stopped myself. She didn't want me to contact her.

I didn't know what to do. I had heard her, but her words didn't make sense. They hadn't sunk in all the way yet. I walked into the kitchen and picked up my phone. I scrolled down to her number but she wasn't going to pick up, she was driving. Who the hell was I going to call? Don? Tiffany? My dad? My thumb hovered over the number till I shut my eyes and let it fall, holding it to my ear. I listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before he picked up.

"Hello?" His gruff voice issued over the line. I hoped that meant I wasn’t calling him too late.

"Coach Hayes? This is Roman Blake," I said.

"Roman, I've been expecting to hear from you."

"Sorry I kept you waiting."

"So, what do you say?"

"Yes. I'll do it. I want to do it."

"You sure you don't need more time, son?" he asked. He was ribbing me. "Nobody's ever made us wait on them the way you have. You better make sure you're worth the time we could have spent looking for another QB."

"Of course. I'm ready."

"Well, the soonest we can start processing everything is tomorrow morning. You don't change your mind, you'll be here in Miami within a month." I swallowed.

"I'm looking forward to it, sir."

"Welcome to the Hurricanes, Roman."

"Thanks," I said, through gritted teeth. We hung up, and I dropped my phone on the kitchen counter. I went to the kitchen and turned the stove off. The food was ready by now, but I wasn't hungry anymore.

I thought it would feel better taking the deal. I had just prepared myself to be losing it, not to be losing Ron, so it didn't feel like a victory. I looked down at my phone almost wondering why I had done it.

I'd be gone within a month? She had said she didn't want to talk to me... A month was too fucking long.

 

Chapter Thirty

Veronica

I thought I heard a knock at the door, but I wasn't sure. I stayed put just to see if it would happen again. It did.

I got up and walked over to get it. My body unclenched, I had been sitting in one spot too long. It was Friday night. I had gone into hibernation mode the minute I'd gotten home from school. At some point, outside the sun must have set.

Unlocking the door, I stopped. What if it was Roman? I hadn't touched my phone since I had sat down on my couch. Would he have called before coming over? I didn't know. If he had and I had missed it, he had taken that as a sign not to come over. I balked, not really wanting to open it anymore. The knock came again.

"Vee? Open up" the voice on the other side called. I sighed – relieved and disappointed in equal parts. I opened the door.

"It's about time. I was starting to think you had died in here."

"Sorry. I wasn't expecting anyone," I said, walking back to the couch.

The television was only on for the noise. I had put an old episode of Sex and the City on, something frivolous that would make enough noise to drown my thoughts out. It was sort of working, but not that well. I turned it off. Tiff came up and stood over me, arms crossed.

"If I missed your call I'm sorry. I haven't looked at my phone-"

"Vee, cut it out," she said.

"Cut what out? What is it?"

"I've been trying your phone all afternoon. I thought you might be with Roman. Tell me why when I talked to him, he told me he hadn't talked to you since last night when you broke up with him?" I stood and walked past her.

"I mean, that's the whole story right there; what did you think I was going to tell you that was different from that. You wanted to know whether it was true?"

"You can't be serious, Vee. What the hell is going on? Why would you do something like that?"

I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge – just a ploy to get away from Tiff, not because I was hungry, even though I hadn't eaten since I had gotten home. I pulled out some water and screwed the cap off.

"Because I didn't want to be with him anymore. That's why relationships usually end."

"Did you get into a fight or something?" she asked. I sipped the water, biding time so I didn't have to answer her immediately.

"I just realized things weren't going right," I tried to say casually.

"Veronica." I didn't like her tone. She sounded like a disapproving parent.

"What? What did you want me to do if it didn't feel right anymore?"

"What was it, two days ago when you couldn't stop talking about how happy you were with him?"

"I spoke too soon," I said.

"What happened?"

"Last year happened, Tiff."

"I thought you guys talked it out."

"That doesn't change that it happened and it doesn't change that he had the nerve to think it wouldn't be a problem after all this time. I wanted my life back. I kept going when he left me, and he didn't give a shit that maybe I was happier that way."

"You weren't. I was there, Vee. Both of you were still so hung up over each other. You asked me whether he was seeing someone else."

"It doesn't matter now. I'm done living in the past." I didn't believe myself, but I was hoping that she would. That or she'd just fold and let it go. If I told her what it was, she'd just go tell her brother.

"Was it what I told you?" she asked. I tried to keep my face neutral.

"No. Nothing like that. It was just me and what I had to do."

"You really have to do this again to figure out that you're meant for each other?"

"That's the thing. We aren't. When he dumped me last year, it was because he didn't want to be honest with me. Didn't trust me with the news that he had to leave. I had no idea that was how he felt. We weren't on the same page, and that is why it doesn't matter if we got together now. It wouldn't work. He doesn't feel the same way I do."

It was only half a lie. There was some truth there, but I had forgiven Roman for what he had done. I didn't want to dwell on that when I loved him so much and saw how earnestly he wanted to correct the situation.

"I can't believe this is happening again."

"This will be the last time," I said.

"Are you okay?"

"I will be."

"I'm sorry this is happening. It must be hard, even though this is the second time."

"I'll be okay. I was last time," I said, shrugging. She came over and hugged me.

"How do drinks sound?"

"Are you buying?"

"Of course," she said, grinning.

I was kidding, but a drink did sound good. She waited for me while I hopped in the shower and made myself presentable. Putting makeup on was therapeutic in a way. It got you ready to, well, pretend, and that was what I had to do tonight. I wanted to have a good time. It would be hard, but I wanted to give it my best shot. For my sake and Tiff's, too. I had broken up with him this time – I had a shorter misery grace period.

We each took our cars, stopping for dinner before finding a bar. It was Friday night, so there were a good number of people in it. Some people I recognized from school, doing with their summer what part of me still wished that I could have done.

How would things have gone differently if I hadn't forced the summer classes thing? I wondered. I'd been so set on it that I hadn't thought past anything other than maybe going home. I could have gone on vacation, disappeared till it was fall. If I had, I would have missed Roman completely and none of this would have happened.

He could have made the decision to join the team and left for Miami all without me even hearing about it. I could have spent this time traveling, hiking, bumming at my parents' place – anything but this. It would have simple. I never would have had to make space for him in my life again, just to rip him out as violently as he ripped himself out the first time.

He'd meet someone in Miami eventually, I'd meet someone here, or wherever I ended up after graduation, and our lives wouldn't cross paths again. I didn't want to remember it, lying in bed with him, making love, hearing him say he loved me... If I was getting rid of the bad, the good had to go with it. This was for him. I'd survive, but there was no guarantee that he would get another team offer like this if he turned this one down.

"Can I get you ladies anything?" a waitress asked. I just repeated what Tiffany asked for. A mojito, even though I didn't tend to drink tequila-based cocktails. My usual was wine, but I was feeling like something stronger fit the occasion better. I started feeling warm after downing half the glass.

"Can we talk about what happened?" she asked.

"Are you asking me to sit here and trash him? I don't know how I feel about that."

"You would if it was anyone else."

"I would if it was him, too... There just isn't a reason to with him. I made this decision. He made some mistakes, some stuff I couldn't get over. He wasn't a dog."

"I'm still here if you ever want to talk."

"Sorry for putting you in this position."

"All I can do is trust that both of you are happy with what you choose, whatever it is."

"Did he tell you nothing?"

"Earlier today, we ate lunch together. He... Sorry, you probably don't want to talk about him," she said.

"He's your brother. He's bound to come up," I said, trying to sound nonplussed.

"You two were friends, too, right? Do you think you'll ever get to that place with him?"

"I don't know. It’s too soon to tell," I said. Way too early. I knew I could offer him my friendship, but I didn't know how I'd be happy with just that. Especially if he ended up dating someone else. It was bound to happen. I didn't expect him to become celibate because of me, but the thought did make my stomach feel tight.

"Will it be one of those situations where I can't hang out with the two of you at the same time?"

"I'm sorry in advance," I said sheepishly.

"If anything, it won't last longer than the summer, I guess," she said shrugging.

"Yeah? Why just the summer?"

"Because he's leaving. He confirmed his position with the team. He's flying down to Miami in a couple weeks.

"He took the position? That means he's moving?" I asked, a little too frantically. I sipped my drink.

"Yeah. Relocating to sunny Florida. Lucky bastard," she said.

"I'm glad he's going."

"Because it's less awkward for you?"

"No... Yeah, but this is what he's always wanted. I'm glad he's getting to do it."

"You have got to be the friendliest ex he could have gotten stuck with," she said. "Can I say... He's still here for two weeks. He'd appreciate hearing that from you."

"I don't think so," I said wryly.

"For the years of romance and history, one last goodbye in person."

"I'll think about it," I said, so she'd stop pushing. I didn't trust what I would do seeing him again, and I knew my resolve was as weak as him reaching out to touch me, kiss me, say that he still loved me. I couldn't do that to him.

I didn't know whether I could be this strong for two weeks, but I'd try. I wanted him to be happy – this was how it had to happen for him. I could do it if it was for him.

 

Chapter Thirty One

Roman

Unlike a lot of people, Don didn't get Saturdays off. I had thought about going to see him sooner, but I wanted to wait and let it sit for a while first.

Part of me until about yesterday had been certain that it was all a dream, and no, of course, we hadn't broken up again. She hadn't come to my house and cussed me out, saying she wanted out of the relationship. That hadn't happened. It was all a fucked up fever dream I would wake up from and everything would be fine. That phone call I had made? That hadn't happened either.

But then yesterday, bright and early, who did I get a call from, but Coach Hayes himself. This wasn't a drill. It was happening, and it was happening in two weeks.

For a minute, everything inside me was screaming to tell Veronica the good news, but I didn't think I got to call her and tell her things like that anymore. She didn't want me to contact her again. I'd made it the last couple days without doing it, but I wasn't sure how much more success I would keep having with this. It was so weird.

How were something so great and something so fucked up happening in my life at the same time? I hadn't prepared for it to be this way. I didn't feel anything, mostly just numb. Maybe that would change but right now?

I just needed to talk to someone. Tiff was good, but she was as biased as I was. Apparently, she hadn't had any idea that Ron had wanted to break up with me and had taken it pretty bad. I knew that the two of them talked and Tiff would probably tell me anything I asked about Ron, but I didn't think I needed to hear that right now.

I texted him before I made the drive to his place to make sure he wasn't still working. His door was unlocked when I got there and I let myself in. The television was on where he sat in the living room.

"What happened this time?" he asked as I walked in.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I can smell the anxiety coming off you. What happened?" he asked. I sat on one of the couches as he turned the television off.

"It's over," I announced.

"What? What's over?"

"Ron and me. She ended it."

"Just like that? How?"

"We had a date the other day. She was meant to come to my place. So, she shows up, and I can tell she's upset, right? Like, irritated. I ask her what's wrong and she just blows up on me. She says all this stuff like she had a life when we broke up before and she wanted that back. She didn't want to be with me anymore."

"Hasn't it been weeks? Why would she say that to you now?"

"I don't know? I thought we were doing good. I thought she was happy," I said, running my hands through my hair. "I don't know why she turned like that."

"Are you sure you want to know why?"

"I... I don't know. She just told me she didn't want this anymore."

"What did you do?"

"I called the team back. I took the position."

"Good," he said, leaning back.

"What?" I snapped.

"After what you were ready to give up for her, she did that?"

"I still love her, Don. I never stopped. I don't know where this came from, but it's not good. I never wanted this."

"You wouldn't have taken the offer from the team unless she did. Call that what you want, Rome, but I call that a blessing in disguise."

"You don't fucking get it."

"I get finally having the one thing you've wanted your whole life dropped in your lap and I get having to give it up," he said seriously. "What I won't get is you finding a way to say no to this again. She took herself out of the equation. Now you can go pro if she was the only thing holding you back."

"She wasn't holding me back. I wanted her." He sighed.

"If she didn't feel the same way, it's a good thing she let you know before it was too late." I leaned back in my seat, laying my head back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling.

"I can't believe I almost got it that wrong," I said.

"I can't believe it took you this long. You know what, we should go out," he said, standing.

"What?"

"Drinks, on me. We should celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

"Your contract. And your..."

"My breakup?"

"I know you're upset about it, Rome, but the girl dumped you. You can't feel bad about that, especially with what you were about to give up for her. There are more girls where she came from. It sucks, but you did it. You're going pro."

"You're right," I sighed.

He told me to wait for him as he grabbed his stuff. We were going out. A drink sounded good and really, what did I have to lose? It wasn't like I had to meet Ron tonight – or any night for that matter. Women were replaceable for Don; he had never been in a position like this. I knew that he wouldn't help with that part, but he had a point.

This was good. I had wanted this. If I hadn't had to worry about Ron... I would have taken the deal in a heartbeat. Maybe we did have something to celebrate. In about ten minutes, we were out the door.

I'll regret this in the morning, I thought as we entered the bar. It was Saturday, so the place was pretty full. I could smell beer, wings, and perfume clashing into a thick cloud of sickly sweet stink.

I would definitely regret this in the morning...right now, though? I was dying to cut loose. We found a spot, and I went to grab the first round. Beer and some shots, we were supposed to be celebrating, right?

"To you," Don said, grandly, raising his shot glass. "At least one of us gets to go pro." I drank the shot. It burned all the way down. I frowned and took a swig of my beer.

"Thanks," I said.

"Make this count, man," he said.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, when you get to Miami, leave no stone unturned." I grimaced as he laughed. He should have been the one getting this deal. He would have had a ball with a new pool of women to corrupt. With league money and all that free time? That was probably his idea of paradise.

"I'm going to play ball. Not all that shit."

"The two go together. I'm just saying. You're a free man now, so you can indulge if you want to."

"I don't want to."

"Just wait till you get there. You might meet someone who changes your mind," he said, leering at a girl who walked by our booth. It didn't matter that she was walking holding hands with a guy, most likely her boyfriend. It was like Don didn't even register anyone who wasn't a girl he would like to fuck.

"Let's wait till I actually land."

"So, this is actually it, huh?"

"Yeah, it's finally real. They told me today that I had to be there in two weeks."

"You're moving and everything. How does it feel?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know. It hasn't sunk in yet. I'm still here. Maybe when I'm actually on the plane, or in the training facility or whatever, it will feel real."

"You ready to forget all of us?" he asked, smirking.

"The minute I hop on that plane, this place drops off the map," I shot back, grinning. He laughed.

"Roll out your futon once in a while for me," he said.

"Fuck that. You come to visit, you can get a hotel."

For a minute, I was glad that I let him talk me into this. I wasn't drunk, but the beer was definitely doing its job. I was actually feeling relaxed, for maybe the first time since talking to Ron. I didn't take what he was saying about meeting other women seriously. He was an expert on the subject, but even if I was looking for someone, I didn't think a one-night stand was it. I stood and walked to the bar to get our next round.

It shouldn't have surprised me when I walked back to our booth and found Don with his arm around a brunette in tight shorts. We had just fucking walked in and he already had himself a girl. I halfway wanted to admire him for it, but picking up girls was light work for him. He could do it in his sleep. I'd be surprised if he even knew this one's name.

"Oh, here he is now," Don said, as I got closer. "Rome, I was just telling Sasha here what we're celebrating tonight."

"Are you really going pro?" Her lips were glossy, her hair was long and straight, and her top was just as tight as those shorts over her tits.

"Yup. Miami Hurricanes," I said. "You watch football?"

"I love football," she said smiling. "What position?"