On the table between us, we had a platter complete with chocolate bars, graham crackers, marshmallows, skewers and a small fire at the center.
Our knees bumped into one another’s under the table, not in a playing footsie kind of way, but in a ‘we’re sitting at a children’s table’ kind of way. I couldn’t say I hated it with the heat from the fire providing warmth the metal chairs weren’t.
I stuck a peanut butter cup on my graham cracker and pulled my marshmallow from the fire, sandwiching it between another graham. Holding out the treat across the table, I tilted my head, trying to catch LJ’s eye. “Come on, L. You know it’s your favorite.”
Tension had eased out of him on the walk, but there was still an uneasiness to him. He had a cagey, ruffled air. He reached for the s’more and I pulled it away a little getting him to come closer.
He came with it and grabbed for the chocolate and peanut butter treat, coming out of his seat.
When he did, I popped up and kissed him. Nothing more than a peck really. It caught me off guard how easily I’d done it and how much it made sense now. Before I’d have laid into him or cracked a joke, but the kiss felt natural.
And I wanted more.
His lips were firm, but soft against mine. Warm, tasty and I wanted to feel them on mine even longer. But not here. Not now.
I checked over my shoulder. The place and street were deserted like before, but LJ’s eyes went wide before he laughed. The last bits of tension were wrung from his body.
“What was that?” He peered around like I had and snagged the s’more from my hand.
“It was a way to get your head out of your ass.”
“Looks like I’ll have to find more reasons to shove it up there." His gaze heated as he bit into the graham crackers, making a mess of his hands in the process. “Damn, this is good.”
“Only one more. We don’t want you puking in the backyard like you did in sixth grade.”
“It was worth it.”
“Now will you tell me what’s up?”
“I didn’t play much during the game and my agent is freaking out, which is causing me to freak out.”
“Why isn’t Ron playing you?” After talking to Liv, the nudge in the back of my head was more of a shove. I’d told him to tell me if there was a problem. I’d made him promise me that going to dinners wouldn’t be an issue and I’d told him that he didn’t have to come at all, but he insisted. I needed to believe that he’d tell me the truth—eventually.
“Do you ever think it’s weird you call your dad, Ron?”
“No changing the subject. Why isn’t he playing you?”
He smooshed his s’more together. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should’ve brought it up at Monday dinner. Who else on the team gets a solid hour of undivided attention with Coach Saunders?” I hadn’t been back since the Nora dinner and I didn’t regret it one bit. I’d need to go back eventually, just so I wasn’t screwed with next semester’s tuition, but I was biding my time and dragging my feet in subjecting myself to another round of fatherly dinner theater.
“His attention is pretty divided. And usually focused on you.”
“Let’s not ruin this dessert by talking about him.” It was bad enough I had to see him on the sidelines of all of LJ’s games, I didn’t need him ruining my dessert.
“You brought him up.” His verbal ducking and dodging wasn’t nearly as fast as he was on the field.
“And now I’m un-bringing him up.” I made video rewind noises with my mouth. “You had a great play. Those blocks were brutal. How about the three quarters leading up to that?”
He licked some of the chocolate off his fingers.
“They were cutting it close. It was down to the wire.”
He made a noise of disapproval. “There are only three games left before playoffs.” That was more to himself than me.
“Then you’ll have to get out there during practices and make sure the defensive coach doesn’t have a reason to hold you back. Maybe he’s trying to give the underclassmen a chance with so many seniors leaving. You remember how bad it was freshman year for you guys.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He looked away and stuck another marshmallow on the fire. “I’m glad you made me come out tonight, Risa.”
Did I say it was freezing out here? The way he looked at me reached deep inside my chest and started a mini bonfire right on my heart.
20
LJ
“Bye Weeks are the best weeks of the season.” Keyton lit a folded piece of newspaper on fire and stuck it into the coals on the grill in our back yard. During the spring and summer, back yards were packed with other students on the weekends soaking up the sun.
The November snap had hit, so we were all winter grillers in this house.
“Three more games left until the playoffs.” Only three more chances if our streak died and we didn’t make it to playoffs this year. My stomach knotted in a fist-tight clench.
“You’re going to ride out this season without playing? Just give up like it’s no big deal.”
“I know it’s a big deal. And appreciate you bringing it up when I’m trying to relax for five seconds.” It came out more biting than I meant it to.
But he shrugged it off and rolled right over the way I snapped at him. “Marisa hasn’t talked to her dad about it?”
“I haven’t told her.”
Keyton stopped mid-step. “Why the hell not?”
“There are more important things.”
“Ah, okay, so you don’t actually care about getting drafted and those fat paychecks mean nothing to you. I didn’t realize we had another Nix situation on our hands.”
“Nix’s dad played pro for almost a decade. He’s never had to worry about money a day in his life. That’s not my life. Do you think I’ve got a fat inheritance tucked away somewhere and I’m working my ass off for fun?”
“Then why aren’t you doing everything you can to give yourself a shot? You need to have Marisa talk to him.”
“I can figure it out on my own.” I pushed past him and took the lead up the steps back into the house.
“Yes, because you’ve been doing such a bang up job of that already.” He grumbled, walking up the stairs in my wake.
“We can store the booze out on the deck to keep it cold.”
“We’ve got a game in two days. This is not the time to get blitzed.”
I turned at the top of the steps and spread my arms wide. “Not like I’ll be in for more than a play. What does it matter?”
“If you don’t ask Marisa to talk to her dad, you’re never going to get enough time on the field.”
“I’m not going to put that on her. She’s been at my side through some rough times. I can sit through some weekly dinners, so she can pay for college.”
“At the expense of your future?”
“What’s at the expense of your future?” Marisa walked out of the kitchen with a pitcher of brightly-colored booze.
Keyton shook his head looking around the room.