Page 14 of One Bet

When I turned, he hadn’t moved from the doorway. “Avery, please.”

I looked at him because something in his voice made me want to see his face. His lids lowered, and he held out his hand. Going to him meant setting myself up to be hurt, but standing so far away caused a deeper ache, worse than anything I could have imagined. I walked close enough to put my hand over his and made the decision to pull him inside.

He came in, kicked the door shut, closed the distance between us, and wrapped one arm around my waist. His other hand wrapped around the back of my neck and nudged me closer with his fingertips. “I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

I smiled. “We’ve only known each other a couple days.”

He shook his head. “I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Then he lowered his head and brushed his lips over mine. My heart pounded against my ribs, and I didn’t care if he felt it, I wanted him to know it was for him, all him.

He deepened the kiss, used his tongue to trace the seam of my lips, and I opened my mouth. Dear God this man knew how to kiss. It made me want so much more. Right up to the minute he pulled away and leaned his forehead against mine.

My breath came in short bursts, and I closed my eyes because looking at him wasn’t going to help me calm down. Neither would, “Can I kiss you again?”

But I nodded anyway. Even let him walk me back to the bed and lower me to the mattress, all the while kissing me and massaging my scalp with his fingertips. I wanted him so badly it scared me. It made me pull away. I’d never even been on a real date, and I’d damned sure never gone further than second base.

“Keaton.”

Instead of kissing me again, he rolled onto his back and gathered me next to him. I could hear his heartbeat under my cheek, and it lulled me enough to close my eyes and fall asleep on his chest.

10

Keaton

With my career in ruins, my history with Avery murky and clouded by a kiss I practically forced on her, I woke up hungover and hopeless. I shouldn’t have come back. If I hadn’t, Avery’s job wouldn’t be at risk.

There had to be something I could do to fix this. Even if my career was circling the drain, at least I could use what was left of my reputation on campus for some good. The thought inspired me. Once upon a time, I’d destroyed any hope for me and Avery, but now, I had the chance to make at least one thing right.

I rushed through a shower, down to the garage, and only then remembered I’d left my car at Hilly’s. Thank God for Lyft. As I waited for the car service to arrive, I made my plan.

“Hey. That game last year against Los Angeles?” The driver stared at me through his rearview. He had dark curly hair and aviator shades, but I couldn’t shake the notion that I knew him, maybe it was the voice. “Your offensive line let you down, man.”

The truth was, I didn’t even remember most of that game. I’d been sacked in the first quarter and spent the rest of the game just trying to see straight. I’d been so desperate to stay in the game, to not be replaced by the younger, stronger rookie, that I’d almost killed myself trying to finish strong. We’d lost by two touchdowns.

“It takes a whole team to win or lose.” But it had been me and my selfish play, my fear of being replaced that had lost that game and a bunch of others.

“Yeah, but they gotta protect you. When you aren’t safe in the pocket, you can’t throw a pass. It’s football science.” He chuckled. “Not rocket science.”

He sounded like our college line coach. Exactly like our college line coach. “Do I know you?”

“Blew out my knee senior year.” He glanced at me again and tipped down his shades. “How you been, Keats?”

“King?” Jameson King had been a fraternity brother until the Alabama game when our world was already on a path to implosion and he’d gone down and never come back up. He’d been an All-Star wide receiver who could outrun a cheetah. And he’d had offers from three pro teams. I’d been so busy making a name for myself, I’d forgotten about him. I might’ve recognized him though had he not been wearing those damned shades and sitting in the front seat while I sat in the back.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “You got the contract, I got three surgeries and a chauffer’s license.” The bitterness in his voice jabbed at the secret I’d kept from everyone, made me want to share it with an old friend.

But I wouldn’t insult him by telling him how great my contract wasn’t, how I couldn’t remember my own name sometimes, or how my vision clouded enough I once drove through a stop sign….not the intersection, the actual sign. “I’m sorry, Jameson.”

“It’s good. I got a wife, three kids, a dog, could’ve been worse.” His voice was low, laced with disappointment, probably for what could’ve been had we not fallen apart.

But if I was honest, his life sounded pretty great to me. “That’s great.”

He pulled a picture off his dashboard and handed it over the seat to me. “That’s Susie. You remember her? Ryder…”

Oh shit. Yeah, I remembered her. From last night. “And these are your kids?”

He laughed. “Yeah. Her red hair. My curls.” He nodded but didn’t look at me. “We were friends before…everything happened and she came to the hospital every day after I got hurt.”