I ran my fingers over his arms. The hair tickling my fingertips. “We’re alone again, right?” Peeking out my doorway, I checked the front door.
“We are.”
I pulled him out of the doorway and fully into my room, closing the door behind him. “Then let’s finish what we started.” The cool metal of his jeans button and zipper pressed against my skin.
We didn’t have much time left. Better satisfy every hunger pang while I could.
24
LJ
The final game of the season. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Playoffs. Another championship.
Some months felt like they dragged on while others felt like we’d been shot into the future by cannon. Through it all, there had been one constant to anchor me to the present. Marisa.
Poor Keyton had been subjected to some of our ‘couldn’t hold back anymore and attack one another’ sessions, since he was the only one who knew about us. Berk was at Jules’s more and more.
He’d also finally gotten it through his thick skull about Alexis, and he and Jules were happier than ever, although none of us had the full story. Not to say things weren’t the same for me and Marisa.
No one even knew we were now more than friends. After the season ended, it seemed natural to tell everyone, but Marisa kept stalling. There was always a reason to keep things quiet and suddenly my act of self-preservation back in October felt like an albatross around my neck.
I’d leave for the last combine before the draft tomorrow. I’d gotten the invitation. My agent had nearly blasted out my ear drum when I called him to let him know.
Coach Saunders would be there, along with Keyton, Berk and a few other guys from our team.
And there were my classes on top of everything else.
“Jules is the best neighbor ever.” Marisa kicked the front door closed and walked in with a clear container and a cup of sauce balanced on top. She was in her museum tour guide clothes, which was part of the reason my plan would work without raising suspicion.
“What did she make us this time?”
“Churros and a chocolate sauce. I didn’t think I could love her more, but I do. I so, so do.”
She loved Jules, but had yet to say it back to me since I’d said it to her in November.
I couldn’t say it didn’t hurt. It felt like a sliver of glass buried in my skin, but determination pumped through my veins to get her to see it. To get her to say it.
It was time for me to tell her this wasn’t junior high and high school love. This was a crazy, can’t-imagine-my-life-without-her kind of love.
“I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“You do?” She glanced up at me with half a churro in her mouth. Setting them down, she held one out to me, dangling it from the ends of her fingers.
I wrapped mine around her wrist to steady her hand and took a bite. “We’re going out.”
“We are?” She licked the cinnamon sugar from her fingers.
My nostrils flared and I tightened the reins so I didn’t scrap all the plans I’d put in place and make Keyton break out the headphones. “Yeah, let’s go.”
“I’m still in my tour clothes. I don’t need to change?”
“Nope.” I grabbed our coats and tugged her toward the front door.
“Where are we going?” She buckled up and I pulled away from the curb.
“Somewhere special.”
The traffic fell in between rush hour and the nightlife crowd, so we moved through the city quickly.
“What’s the occasion?”
“We’re together.” I dropped my hand onto her knee, brushing my fingers over the fabric.
She laughed. “That was a next-level answer. Your wooing skills are at peak capacity right now.”
“I try my best.”
The deflection with humor. It was easy to fall into our normal, silly, antagonistic pattern, but tonight I wanted it to be more. We pulled into a city lot and I opened her door.
“You coming?”
“What are you up to?” Her eyebrows furrowed and lips pinched.
“You could come with me to find out.”
She slid her hand into mine.
I checked the address one more time, and we walked down an alley before popping out on the other side of the Northern Liberties strip of businesses and shops.
“Here we are.” I stopped and looked to her.
“Seriously?” She jumped onto me with her arms wrapped around my neck.
I smiled into her hair and hugged her back. The plan was working. Part of me was afraid we’d get here and she’d tell me this was the one particular artist she couldn’t stand. “I saw the flyers in the Art History department.”
“So you brought me to the opening?” She held her hands to her chest and looked at me like I’d showed up with a diamond bracelet.
“Something tells me art is your thing.”
Inside the gallery waiters walked around with wine and champagne on trays. There were fancy hors d’oeuvres.
We handed our coats over to the coat check and wandered through the wild world of modern art. “How’d you get tickets to this? Professor Morgan could only get two, and by the time I saw the email they’d already been taken.”
Leaning in, I whispered in her ear, wanting so badly to run my lips along the curve of her neck, and to find a dark corner and show her how much I’d missed her. Not traveling since the championship had made it easy to forget how much being away from her sucked.
But we wouldn’t have to do that again. We’d have the summer. Maybe we’d even go to Italy. It wouldn’t be the two years like she planned, but I’d make it up to her. We could spend the whole off-season in Venice if she wanted.
Gondola rides, good food, and great nights together, wrapped up in one another.
The temptation to rush back home and say screw the art increased when I rested my hand on the small of her back. “Nix’s restaurant is doing the catering. He put in a word with the organizers.”
Tonight was for her. I couldn’t come up with a way for her to still go to Italy, but I could wander around this place and pretend I knew what any of it was—for her.
The food, drinks and company made this the best night in a long time.
“L, this is amazing.” She stood in front of artwork spotlighted in the center of the room.
None of it made any sense to me, but I loved watching her take it all in. “I’ve been wanting to come here forever.”
“Why haven’t you?”
She shrugged. “The museum. Tutoring. Classes. And the bus schedule to get here would’ve taken forever.”
“You could’ve borrowed my car.”
She whirled around, stalking toward me. “Who are you and what have you done with LJ?”
My laugh was shotgun loud. “When have I ever not let you borrow anything of mine?”
“Ninth grade biology.”
“I didn’t want you swabbing my jock strap for bacterium cultures. Sorry for having a little dignity.”
“It was for science!” She laughed and grinned. The future fog cleared when she looked at me. All the hazy uncertainty crystalized, and it felt like there wasn’t anything to worry about. One smile. One laugh. One look.