Chapter Fourteen

 

Julie

Three days later…

 

I do my best to muffle my squeal of delight as I end the call and slip the phone into my pocket. It’s actually Shane's phone, but after it flung out from his pocket several times while running drills with the campers, I confiscated it. Hitting one of the children between the eyes with a cell phone would not be conducive to rebuilding his reputation. When it rang a few minutes ago, I intended to only take a quick message, then head back to supervise the camp. Hearing Frank Dunsworth's voice on the other line, however, made me pause.

Shane's coach sounded eager to talk to him, but when I told him Shane was on the field with the campers, he couldn't hold himself back. I tried to absorb each and every word he said so I could relay them to Shane as accurately as possible. Now I can't wait to find him and tell him what I just heard. Running up to the field, I brace myself for the impending rush of campers. When they've managed to weave their way around me, I continue toward Shane.

"Julie, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

Shane reaches for my hands and I see Joe's eyes flicker to us, then look away.

"No. Yes."

"That was clear."

"No, nothing's wrong. Yes, something happened."

"What's going on?"

"I just talked to your coach," I say.

I see Shane's expression drop, and obvious worry in his eyes.

"You did? About what? Why did he call you?"

"He didn't call me," I say. "He called you, but I have your phone in my pocket, so I answered it. I asked if he had a message for you, and he did."

"What's the message?"

"He wanted you to know they traded Bobby Kilmer this afternoon."

Shane blinks at me. I don't know if he's even processed what I just said.

"They traded him?" he finally asks.

His voice is low, nearly a whisper. It's not the exuberant response I thought he was going to have.

"Yes," I say. "This afternoon. Apparently, it was quite the shock for good old Bobby."

"Did he tell you why?"

"Well," I say with a slight smirk. Even with his subdued response, I'm beyond excited. "He didn't say why they did it specifically. But he did say that the recording of Vanessa confessing was very intriguing, and that it obviously can't be used for any type of legal proceedings, but it was something they thought a lot about."

That's enough to finally get me the excitement I want. Shane lets out an excited whoop and scoops me off my feet. He spins me around a few times before setting me down. A wave of dizziness washes over me, but the nausea is not enough for me to miss my brother's voice.

"That's really good," Joe said. His voice is almost too low for it to be obvious he is speaking to us. "I was glad to hear when she admitted it."

Shane turns to him.

"Thank you," he says.

Joe nods and turns to me.

"I'll be out tonight," he says. "Are you going to be OK at home alone?"

Touching bonding moment over.

"I'll be fine, Joe. I'm in my twenties."

My brother gives another nod.

"I probably won't be home before you go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

Joe starts off across the field, and I turn to Shane.

"So," he says, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to him. "We're going to have your house to ourselves tonight."

"It seems that way."

"What do you want to do?"

"I think I have something in mind."

 

********

 

I crawl over to where my favorite spot in the treehouse always was and lay down on my back, watching Shane struggle to fit through the small door and maintain his footing on the rope ladder. As he peeks his head inside the room, I can see he is looking around with a concerned look on his face.

"It's fine," I say. "You aren't going to be doing any standing in here."

A devilish grin crosses his face and he crawls through the door to where I am, hovering over me. He leans down to kiss me, and I pull myself up to him. I feel him starting to unbutton my shirt and the thrill of the moment fills my body with heat. I release his kiss and begin to unbutton his shirt as well. Soon they are both on the floor.

"You said we were going to have my house all to ourselves tonight. Well, here we are. My house."

Shane begins to slowly kiss my neck and move down to the swell of my breasts as I reach for a handful of his hair. He runs his tongue along the edges of the bra as he unclasps it and I shudder in anticipation. The bra falls off, and Shane immediately latches his mouth onto one of my now exposed nipples, his hand reaching for the other. He mimics the swirling of his tongue on one breast with his thumb on the other and then repeats the motion after switching.

Sitting up on his knees, Shane unzips his pants and yanks them off as I do the same. His hard cock springs out at me and I salivate at the sight of it. I reach forward and take him into my mouth as I kick the pants off my feet, and I feel Shane's hand reach for my pussy. He moves my panties to the side and uses his thumb to gently open my folds and massage my clit.

Shane slips a finger inside me and I moan, sending the vibration of my pleasure straight to his cock, and I hear him return the sound. For a few moments, I continue to slide his length into my mouth while I feel him reach away from me for his pants. I release him as he opens a foil package. I tremble with desire and anticipation as he places the condom on his erection, and I slide my panties down my hips and onto the floor. Now we are both completely bare, and I long to feel him inside me.

Shane maneuvers himself above me as I spread my legs to welcome him. He leans down and his cock brushes against my wet heat and a spasm of pleasure erupts through me. He smirks, and I can tell he enjoys the amount of control he has over me, and how easily his body sends mine into uncontrollable ecstasy. He slides his length along my folds, copying the movements of his fingers, before plunging deep into me.

I cry out as he fills me, bringing me to the edge of pain and pleasure, as my walls stretch to accommodate him. He stays still for a moment, and I can tell he is enjoying the warmth and tightness of my pussy around him as he gives me a chance to adjust. Slowly my body relaxes, and he rocks backward slightly before pushing forward again. I whimper involuntarily and follow it with a low moan at the stretching sensation. He pulls back and thrusts again, going even deeper than before as a shockwave of bliss fills me.

I reach up and curl my arms around his neck as he begins to pound into me faster and harder. I can feel the dizzying wave of an orgasm coming. I wrap my legs around his waist, giving him more access to my body and feel him growl above me. I lose myself in the moment and can feel my body tingling and heat rising as I head toward an explosive orgasm. I clench my walls around him and he slows down momentary, letting me ride the wave of my release.

I shake underneath him as he sits up and grabs my legs, repositioning me. For a moment he stops and admires my body and I feel no shame, no shyness – only desire. I want him back inside me and I reach for his arm to pull him. He takes the hint and scoots forward again.

In the new position, with my legs folded against his chest, I am even tighter than before. When Shane slides himself into me, I feel my body stretch to fit him, and the sensation fills me with such a strong sense of pleasure that I moan loudly. He begins to rock back and forth in a slow rhythm, and I feel one of his hands reach up to caress my breast, the other holding my right hip.

I can feel yet another wave coming as his speed and movements begin to increase even more. I grab onto the walls of the small room and I raise my head to watch him, sweat dripping from his hardened muscles as he slams into me, harder and harder with each thrust. Soon I hear myself begin to whimper and moan in short breaths, and know that my orgasm is about to crash down around me at any second. Shane is growling above me as he frantically thrusts into me, dominating me with his body. I can feel him getting closer and I know he will reach his climax with me, so I let go. We both scream into the night, and I feel him tense up as his cock throbs inside me, my body responding by clenching tightly around him. Our mutual climaxes slow, and Shane lays himself down beside me and kisses the back of my neck.

"I want to show you something," Shane murmurs against my hair.

It had been silent in the treehouse for so long that I was nearly asleep, and unsure if I'd actually heard him or not.

"Hmm?"

I nestle in closer to him, seeking out the warmth that has cooled while we relaxed. Outside the treehouse, the night air smells sweet with flowers and fresh cut grass. I can hear cicadas singing in the distance, and tiny flickering fireflies periodically light up the darkness. It's perfect, and I don't want to move.

"I said I want to show you something."

I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder and kiss him.

"I think you've already shown me quite a bit."

He grins and kisses me.

"And I still have plenty more where that came from. But this is something else."

He sounds serious even through the smile, and I nod.

"Alright," I say.

We reluctantly disentangle from each other and dress. When we've pulled ourselves together, we climb down out of the treehouse and get back in his car. He doesn't say anything as we exit my neighborhood and weave our way across town. The next neighborhood we enter is older than the one we just left, with houses that harken back to the time when my grandparents had first gotten married and settled down. The few scattered lights along the worn sidewalks cast only a faint haze of light that barely touches the houses themselves. Most of them, though, have their own cheery little porch lights burning.

It's the type of neighborhood that feels established and comfortable.

"These are Thanksgiving houses," I say.

"They're what?" Shane asks.

"Thanksgiving houses. That's what I always think when I see houses like these. They look like the types of houses people go to and celebrate Thanksgiving. They look like they'd be warm and pretty during the holidays, and smell like turkey."

Shane laughs.

"I love how you look at things."

I smile at him as we turn into a driveway. Looking out the window, I notice we're at the end of the street, parked next to a house that sits dark and quiet. The yard is overgrown with weeds and grass, and the curtain less windows look hollow and cold.

"Who lives here?" I ask.

"No one.”

Shane releases his seatbelt and climbs out of the car. I follow, unsure of what we're doing here. We walk up a broken sidewalk that is barely visible through the tangle of grass, weeds, and who knows what else covering it.

"No one?"

"At least not anymore. This is where I grew up."

The impact of that hits me, and the modest home suddenly has much greater significance.

"Are you thinking about buying it?"

"I already did."

"You did?"

My heart flutters in my chest as my lips curve up into a smile. I try to hide it. I don't want him to see the excitement I'm feeling. Was it possible the time we spent together has changed him so much he bought a house here? Since our first kiss, I’ve wondered what it all meant, but I've never said anything. Now it seems that a future for us exists in his mind, too. This home that held so much pain for him could have a new life and new memories. He takes my hand, and I squeeze it gently as he guides me up onto the porch.

"Eight years ago."

My heart sinks.

"Eight years ago?"

"It was the first thing I bought when I really started making money. I called the landlord and offered him cash for it. He didn't even ask why I wanted it."

"Why did you want it?"

His eyes slide over to me.

"Control. This house represents everything I went through when I was a kid, and the control everyone and everything had over me. It was torment. I thought being able to live here alone when I was in school would take that feeling away, but it didn't. I still remembered everything and never could feel at peace. But having it sitting here after I left was just as bad. No one knew all that happened in it, and what it still meant. So as soon as I could, I bought it. Now it's a reminder of what I've accomplished."

I don't know how to respond.

Shane pulls me toward him and wraps his arms around my waist. He leans down to kiss me, and I rest into it. I can't let my emotions show. I can't let him know what I've been thinking. We'll only be here for two more weeks, and then I can put this, and Shane, all behind me.

If only it was that easy.

 

Two weeks later…

 

"I can't believe we're already back."

Shane puts the last of my suitcases on my bed.

"I can," he said. "It's good to be back. Aren't you glad to see your apartment again?"

I look at him and roll my eyes as he laughs.

"It was really nice to be back home. I was proud of you, you know."

"You were?"

"You really did an incredible job there," I say. Shane steps up to me and reaches for me. I step away and walk around the bed to another of my suitcases. I see him roll his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh as his phone rings. He fishes it out of his pocket and looks at the screen

"Let me take this," he says. "You stay here. I'll be right back."

He walks out of the bedroom into the living room. Feeling my chest tighten with the tension between us, I unzip my suitcase and start pulling out clothes, tossing them into piles based on whether they need to be washed or not. Shane had been so excited to leave after the last day of camp and get back to Pennsylvania that I hadn't bothered to do my last load of laundry. Now I wish I'd made him wait the extra couple of hours. I'm having trouble remembering which clothes were in the laundry basket, and which weren't. Finally, I dump out the entire suitcase and toss them all into the same pile. It won’t hurt them to get rewashed.

"Yeah, I'm finally back."

Shane's booming voice travels down the hallway and into the bedroom.

"It wasn't as horrible as I thought it was going to be, but I'm really glad to be back."

There's a pause as he listens to the person on the other line.

"Sure, I'm down to go out tonight. I could use some fun after all that. What's going on?"

Another pause, then he lets out a short laugh.

"I don't know. Now that my image has been restored, do you really think the old bar can handle me showing up? I don't know if they can handle the adoring throngs." I pause as my stomach twists and I take a few steps closer to the door. I don't want to eavesdrop. I don't like the idea of invading his privacy, especially with how complicated things are between us at the moment. At the same time, I can't ignore what he's saying, or the haughty tone of his voice. It's like all the humility and tenderness I saw in him in Virginia was left behind when we came back.

"No, the little kids were adorable. They don't know any better yet. It's cute when they can't run in the right direction or catch a ball. It kind of loses its appeal when they're teenagers. It's a good thing I was only there doing that to make myself look better. If I was actually volunteering, or getting paid, I'd be pissed."

There's a pause and Shane gives a deep laugh.

"It was completely stupid. I think I saw one reporter there the whole time. Julie put pictures up online and everything, but I don't think being there had anything to do with the new endorsements or looking good in front of people again. Now that all that Vanessa shit has died down after she admitted to lying, my reputation was bound to bounce back. I know what the PR guy said, but I don't think he really knows what he's talking about. He's used to dealing with delicate little celebrities and struggling businesses. It's obvious he doesn't know anything about how football fans worship their favorite players. It doesn't matter how much good I do. I might even have come out of this looking even better than before because of all the sympathy I’ve gotten for being screwed over by Vanessa. Now that it's all over, dealing with her might be the best thing that ever happened to me."

Irrational, blinding anger explodes inside me, and I burst out of the bedroom and stomp down the hallway to face Shane.

"Just a second," he says. "I'll be right with you."

He starts to lean down as if to kiss me, and I duck out of his way.

"Hang up the phone," I say again.

Covering the phone with his hand, Shane lowers his voice slightly to speak to me.

"I need to finish this phone call," he says. "Just go back in the bedroom and strip down. I don't even mind if you get started before me."

This is the first moment of my life I wish I was violent. I reach out and snatch the phone out of his hand. Ending the call, I resist the urge to throw it through my window, and instead toss it across the room onto a chair.

"I said hang up the phone," I say. "What about that did you not understand?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he demands. "You've been acting like this for the last two weeks. You wouldn't stay with me at the hotel. You had Joe bring you to the field rather than letting me pick you up. You've barely let me touch you."

"What's wrong with me?" I shout. "Are you seriously asking me that? Don't you think I heard every word you just said?"

"So? What's wrong with what I said?"

I step back from him, stunned.

"How could I not see it?" I ask.

"See what?"

"That you haven’t changed at all. You are still the same arrogant, self-centered dick you always have been."

I start to walk away, but he grabs me by the wrist and turns me around to face him.

"You can't just walk away. You need to tell me what you mean by that."

"I worked myself to the bone for you. After everything you did to my brother, after you screwed him out of that interview, took his place on that training squad because you didn't tell him he was the one who was selected, and then just dropped him when he had to drop out of college. After all that, I still took you on."

"None of what happened between me and your brother has anything to do with you," Shane snaps. "And even if it did, you need to get your facts straight. I didn't screw him out of that interview. He had the same exact opportunity that I did. He decided not to go, so I went at the same time. Then he suddenly changed his mind and showed up. But I got there first, so they took me. That's not my fault. That's his. The training squad, yes. I did that. I'll admit it. When I found out he had been selected for the squad and I didn't, I was furious. My entire life was riding on getting a scholarship and catching the eye of a scout. I'm not like you and Joe. I didn't have a cozy little upbringing, and I didn't have money to rely on. All I had was myself, and I wasn't going to have a future if it wasn't football. So, no, I didn't tell him he got selected for the squad. In my mind, if he was actually interested, and had anywhere near as much a dedication to it that I did, he'd ask our coach, or he could call the squad organizer. But he didn't. He just assumed someone would tell him. He didn't take the initiative, so I took his spot. It's not one of my prouder moments in life, but it got me to where I am."

"I do know what you went through, and I understand you were in a really hard place. I can even understand you taking the opportunity that was given to you. But what about after that? Once you already got into college and were already on the team? Joe had to drop out of school, and you just abandoned him. What do you have to say about that?"

"He's a grown man, Julie. He's not some little boy I left standing in the rain."

"No, he was a man who had to give up on his dream, so he could get a full-time job, come home and take care of his little sister because they had just been orphaned. You never even fucking checked on him, Shane. You never came to help. You never did anything. You just disappeared into your college life, got signed and rode off into the sunset without a second thought about Joe or what you two had been through together. You have no idea how much you hurt him, but I still worked with you."

"You took me on because you didn't have a choice," Shane says. "Mr. Slidell told you that you had to work with me or you weren’t going to have a job anymore."

I'm trying to get myself under control. I don't want to have this conversation with him. I'm not ready to have this conversation with him.

"That's true. The only reason I agreed to work with you is because I wanted to be a PR rep. But I got turned down from the firm back home, and humiliated when I came here thinking I had a job. I wasn't about to give up the opportunity to actually work in public relations, even if it meant having to look at you every day. But that doesn't mean I didn't put everything into it. I might have had to accept you as my client, but it didn’t mean I had to work as hard as I did. I didn't have to go to the extent that I did. I could have done the bare minimum and hope for the best, but instead, I went above and beyond for you. I'm the reason you have the endorsements. I'm the reason you're back to being the Golden Boy. Yet all you can do is stand here, in my apartment, and badmouth not only the work I've done, but the opportunities I arranged for you. You're so fucking arrogant, and so full of yourself, that you honestly believe people would just turn a blind eye to anything you do. You seem to think you were in just some sort of time out, and that soon all your adoring fans would come rushing back to you. You can't come to terms with the idea that your star has been fading, and that it was possible you were going to get cut."

"So, you're this angry with me it because I was having a stupid conversation with one of my friends?" Shane asks.

"No, I'm angry because I was so blinded by what was happening between us to see that you're never actually going to change, and that all the ridiculous thoughts I've had are just that – ridiculous."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm just your PR rep. Even if you try to say you were just joking, that's what came out of your mouth, because that's what you want people to think. You've never referred to me as your girlfriend, or even properly asked me on a date. The most you've ever talked about our future is when you were figuring out when to pick me up at Joe's the next day."

"I didn't think you wanted to talk about anything like that. You seem to enjoy people seeing you as an individual entity who doesn't need anyone else. I didn't think we needed to define anything."

"I never said I don't need anyone else. I said I've never cared about dating."

"And that's different now?"

"It might have been. I might have started thinking about the possibility of there being more between us when this arrangement is over."

"That one conversation changes everything?"

"Yeah, it does," I say.

"Why?"

"Because I'm pregnant, Shane."

This is not how I meant to tell him. I've been thinking about it since I first found out, trying to decide the perfect time and way to deliver the news. Standing in the middle of my living room screaming at him wasn't one of the options, but I can't turn back now.

"You're what?" he asks.

"I'm pregnant," I say again.

"How long have you known?" he asks.

"Three weeks."

The fury on his face has lessened, but now his face is strained with shock. He opens his mouth to say something, but I take a step back and hold up my hands as if to ward off whatever it is he's starting to say. I don't want to hear his bullshit right now.

"I think you should leave," I say.

"Hey, I'm not leaving until we talk about this," Shane says. "You just told me you're carrying my child."

"I know," I say. "But I need some time to think about this."

"You had time to think about it. You've had three weeks to think about it and you haven't told me."

"I know," I say. "But I need time. I need some time away from you and this whole situation. I'm not running away from you. I'm not pouting or having a temper tantrum. I just need to figure this out. Alone."

"We can figure this out together," Shane says.

I shake my head.

"I need to figure it out for myself. We knew our arrangement was going to end. All of this has been temporary. The project is almost over, and we accomplished what we wanted to. You look fantastic to the public, and you have a lot of really good things ahead of you, so you need to focus on that. And I need to focus on myself right now. I wanted you to want to be with me because it was in your heart, not because of a baby. I obviously didn't plan this pregnancy, and it's as much of a shock to me as it is to you, but the difference is this is my life. I need time to really think about it and decide what I want. I was offered a job back home, and that's where I think I need to be right now. It's really hard to leave the firm I'm at now, and even my apartment, but being back there really reminded me of how much I love Virginia, and how homesick I've been. I just need to go home."

"Julie, it doesn't have to be this way. I'm sorry if you feel like I don't respect all you've done for me…"

"That's not what this is about, Shane. This is about me figuring out who I am, and the life I want, and about this baby. I just need you to respect the situation and give me the time and space I need."

"I don't want to give you time or space," he says.

"You don't have a choice. With all the appearances and events coming up, your new endorsements, and the season starting, you don't have the time or freedom to relocate. Your life is here. You need to just go ahead and live it. And I'll live mine."

He takes an imploring step toward me.

"Julie, I'm falling –"

I stop him.

"Please. Don't. I need you to not finish that, because I don't believe it's true, and I can't bear to hear you lie to me. And even if it is true, I can't accept it. Not right now. Please, Shane. This shouldn't have happened between us. Both of us were in vulnerable places and we fell into each other because it was easy. It was convenient, and it distracted us. It doesn't matter what either of us thinks or feels right now. What matters is a few weeks from now, and then a few months from now, and then a few years from now. When we're not in the trenches together and we're facing the reality of life, what are we going to think, or feel, or want?"

"I don't know," he says.

"I don't either," I say. "And I need to know I can handle whatever happens when the time comes. That's something I have to do by myself, and you should, too. I need you to go."

I know I'll never forget the look on his face as he stares into my eyes for a few heartbreaking seconds, then turns and leaves.

It's only seconds after he walked away that the door opens again, and Mrs. Livingston rushes inside. She doesn't say anything, but gathers me into her arms, and holds me while I cry. I feel like my heart has been ripped out, and I'm already questioning my decision. Mrs. Livingston helps me to the couch and sits me down.

"I'm sorry," I choke out.

"Don't you be sorry," she says softly. "You cry as much as you want to. Never listen to someone when they tell you not to cry. I promise you there are a lot of tears to come, but the first ones are the hardest. They're the ones that hurt the most because they're the ones that cut. Every tear you cry after this will help to wash it all away. It'll still hurt for a while, but you'll be healing. So, it's alright. You cry. I'll be here. You just cry until you're done."