23
Practice was over, and Jack headed to Rachel's apartment. He was so anxious to see her that he'd come straight from the field, not bothering to stop at home to shower first. Now, standing on her stoop, he realized that probably wasn't the smartest move.
Rachel opened the door and welcomed him with a smile. Jack couldn't help but notice the way her brows drew together, and her nose wrinkled slightly.
“I know, I know, I came straight here,” Jack said, grimacing.
Rachel laughed softly. “If you've got an extra shirt, you can shower while I finish dinner.”
Jack wasn't about to argue. He ran back down to his SUV, grabbed his gym bag from his vehicle, and headed back up the stairs two at a time.
The bathroom was small, barely big enough to turn around in, but it was clean and organized in a way that was distinctly Rachel. Jack turned on the shower and stripped off his practice clothes while the water heated. As steam began to fill the space, he glanced around at her things. A hairbrush on the counter. Bottles of shampoo and conditioner lined up neatly in the shower caddy. A bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. Makeup organized in a small basket by the sink.
She had made the tiny space her own, and Jack realized something that hit him square in the chest. She'd lived her life without him. Changed and grown and built a whole world that he hadn't been part of.
But standing here now, in her bathroom with the mirror fogging up and the smell of her soap in the air, Jack knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what he wanted. He wanted his toothbrush next to hers. He wanted to see her things mixed with his on the bathroom counter. And in his own attic apartment, he wanted her to have a toothbrush next to his.
Jack quickly showered, scrubbing away the sweat and dirt from practice. When he came out, dressed in clean clothes, he found Rachel setting the table. The scent of garlic, tomatoes, and herbs coming from the small kitchen made his stomach growl.
“Smells incredible,” Jack said, coming up behind her.
Rachel glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “It's just pasta. Nothing fancy.”
“It's perfect.”
They sat at her small table, barely big enough for two, and Rachel served simple pasta with marinara sauce and a salad. Jack took his first bite and groaned. “Okay,” Jack said after a few minutes, setting down his fork. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
Rachel's expression shifted, the worry creeping back into her eyes. She told him about the poetry assignment and how concerned she was when she read the two papers. Standing, she retrieved them from her purse and let him read them. “I felt sure that they were from Robbie, Carson, or Ben. Before you ask, it was just because they also had behavioral changes. All three are furtive and don’t meet my eyes. They seem… weighted.”
“What did you determine?”
“I don't know what they witnessed, but I took a chance and talked to Carson.”
Jack’s eyes widened, and his fork halted on its way to his mouth.
“He admitted that a friend talked to him, but he promised not to tell anyone.” She leaned forward, her gaze pinning Jack. “Whatever it is, they're scared enough to keep quiet about it. And Carson is carrying the added weight of guilt, knowing he probably should talk to you or Colt, but gave his word.”
“Fuck.” Jack sighed, and set his fork down. “What did you tell them?” Jack asked.
“I told Carson that I wanted to help. I reminded him that he didn't have to carry it alone.” Rachel looked up at Jack. “Did you get a chance to talk to them at practice?”
Jack leaned back in his chair. “Since I'm new to coaching them, I made sure that all the boys know they can call on me at any time for any reason. I didn’t want to stare at Carson, but I couldn’t help but notice he kept his head down for almost the whole time I was talking. I’m going to talk to him more tonight at home.”
“That's good.” Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
“I want to be there,” he continued, his voice steady and sure. “Not only for coaching but to make sure they grow into the young men I know they can be.”
Rachel's eyes softened, and she reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, babe. You’re the one who noticed something to begin with.”
They finished eating and cleaned up together, moving around the small kitchen in a rhythm that felt natural despite the years apart. When the dishes were done, they sat on the sofa. Jack pulled her close, and she settled against him, her head resting on his shoulder.
For a while, they just sat, comfortable in the quiet. Jack could feel the weight of unspoken things pressing down on his chest. He knew this was his chance with Rachel, but he still wanted to take things slow. I owe that to her.
She shifted slightly, tilting her head to look up at him. “Can I ask you about your dating life while we were separated?”
Jack's stomach tightened. He'd known this subject would come up sometime, but that didn't make it any easier. “You can ask me anything.”
