“Mine, too.”

  Jackson unlocked his phone and handed it to me.

  Jack: Is it true? Are you coming to Arizona. Yesssssssssss!!!!!!!!

  “You didn’t answer him, yet?”

  “I thought I should probably talk to you, first.”

  “Thank you.”

  “When I found out I got traded this morning. I was excited about seeing Jack. Hopefully getting the chance to spend more time with him. If you’re ok with that?”

  “Of course. Jack loves you. I would never prevent you from spending time with him.”

  “I want to spend time with you, too.”

  “Jackson.”

  “Listen, I’m not saying we should get back together or anything like that, but before all of it went to shit, we were really good friends and I miss that.” He paused and stared. “I miss you.”

  Words left my brain. He made it sound so simple, but it wasn’t simple. If it was, then why weren’t we still together. He didn’t wait for me to answer.

  “I have a great idea. Let me taking you out to dinner and we can discuss … boundaries.”

  “Boundaries.”

  “Yeah, I mean. I’m not looking to turn your life upside down. I have a lot to deal with this year and I promise I’m not looking for any distractions. I need to concentration one hundred percent on football.”

  He smiled and my insides warmed from the power of his smile. If he didn’t want to turn my life upside down, then he needed to stop smiling at me like that.

  “With that being said, don’t you have to get ready for camp?”

  “Well, I’m already packed and I got to eat.”

  He laced his fingers together and it hid his face.

  I reached out to pull his hands down and the contact sent a subtle shock down my arm. I pulled away.

  I studied his face to see if he felt it, too, but he made no indication. He sat and waited for my response.

  “Ok. Let’s go eat.”

  Jackson and I walked side by side back to the lobby. We found Cameron sitting on the reception desk on his phone. The cocky kid made himself feel at home.

  “Hey, so we all set.”

  “Yeah. Carrington and I are going to grab a bit to eat. So, I guess I’ll see you at camp tomorrow.”

  “Well, I’m supposed to show you to the hotel,” he said confused and disappointed.

  “I’m a grown up. I can find my way around.” Jackson turned to me. “You want to leave your car here.”

  “Uh depends. What do you feel like?”

  “A steak.”

  “I’ll get my car and you can follow me.”

  I headed across the parking lot and shivered as I felt both their eyes on my back side.

  We both arrived at the Mastro’s, the famous steak house and valeted our cars. I called ahead and used my own Cardinals connections to make sure we got in right away. The valet and the host both recognized Jackson and greeted him, welcomed him to Arizona and wished him luck with the season.

  The waitress giggled after every sentence as she recited the specials and ignored me. When she took our drink order and disappeared, Jackson relaxed.

  We sat back in the black leather booth near the back of the restaurant. The noise level from the bar didn’t spill over to the dining room. I turned to Jackson and watched him survey the restaurant waiting for the next assault of adoration.

  “I figured you would be used to it by know.” I asked.

  “Used to what?”

  “Being recognized and admired by the world.”

  “Yeah, no.” He said as he took a sip of water. “It still freaks me out.”

  “Well, you do it well.”

  “Thank you. Wait. Did you just compliment me? No, it’s not possible.”

  “Shut up.” I laughed and turned my attention the menu to hid my amusement.

  “Could it be that Carrington Olivia Butler no longer hates me.”

  I sat the menu down and frowned. “I never hated you.”

  “Ok, but you’ve been mad at me for five years.”

  “Not all four years, two years ago when you broke your leg. I wasn’t mad at you that day.”

  “Oh yeah. Feeling sorry for me doesn’t count.”

  “Well, take what you can get, ok?”

  “Ok.”

  The waitress returned with our drinks. I order a Patron Silver and Jackson drank an expensive sounding whiskey on the rocks. We were a long way from cheap vodka and beer kegs from college. We ordered and sat in silence for a minute sipping our drinks.

  “You excited about the trade?” I asked.

  “I haven’t really and a chance to process it, yet.”

  “It will be good for you. Good for your career to have a fresh start.”

  “Yeah, maybe, but I’ve never been in this position before.”

  “What position?”

  “Fighting for a starting job. I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve always been the best player on the team.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, when I was a kid, my dad me that if you work harder then anyone else in the room, things will work out eventually. So, that’s what I did. You know my reputation. I work hard at my job. I study and strategies and prepare. I think about how I can make everyone out on that field look better and do better. It’s the only way I know how to be, but it’s hard when it hasn’t worked out the way you wanted it.”

  “This time will be different.”

  “Yeah, it’s different already. I heard it last week. I am one mediocre season away from begin a bust.”

  “Come on Jackson, you don’t believe that?”

  “No, but everyone else does.” He paused and looked off across the restaurant.

  “No they don’t. I don’t. Your family and friends don’t believe that.” I reached across and squeezed his arm and although I felt the spark, I didn’t let go. “It’s going to work out this time. I promise.”

  “You really think so.”

  “Absolutely. And think how good it’s going to feel when you succeed and you can tell those haters to go screw themselves.

  “Yeah,” He smirked and held my gaze. I removed my hand from his arm.

  “It’s nice to hear you’re still rooting for me.”

  “Of course, I am. I always have rooted for you.” As I reached for my drink, I continued. “Getting traded may turn out to be the best thing that every happened to you.”

  “Yeah, maybe your right, but it’s still a shock when you hear someone say they don’t want you anymore. Kind of makes you doubt yourself.”

  I sat my drink back down and stared at him. Why did it fell like we weren’t talking about football anymore?

  Chapter Three

  Jackson Latre Mitchell

  Sitting in the restaurant next to her, we weren’t quite touching, but I felt her energy. She was all nerves, fidgeting with her menu, her drink. She couldn’t keep her hands quiet. I imagined her mind doing the same thing.

  I watched her push her hair behind her ear and grab her drink and take a sip. I wanted to tell her to relax, despite what we had been through together, this didn’t have to mean anything. We were two old friends catching up. Wasn’t that what old friends did when they hadn’t seen each other in five years.

  “So.” She tensed.”How do you like living in Arizona?” I asked and she appeared to calm down. She stopped fidgeting anyway.

  “It’s good. I love the city and Jack loves his school. It’s kind of laid back like Tallahassee, but a bit more sophisticated.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “Just outside of Tempe, about ten minutes from the office.”

  “I need to figure out where I want to live.”

  “I love it over here, though.”

  “In Scottsdale?”

  “Yeah, or Paradise Valley, that’s where all the famous people in Phoenix live.”

  “Is it required?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled and took a sip. I let myself think for a minute this could work. We could be friends.

  “You can afford it, why don’t you move over there?” I asked and her smile dropped.

  “I’m doing well, but not really pulling down Paradise Valley money, yet.”

  “Oh, I mean.“I thought with Mr. Griffin’s money you were doing well.”

  Her face scrunched and I stopped talking.

  “That’s not mine. It belongs to Jack. I try not to spend it.”

  “I know, but it’s not like Jack’s going to be able to spend it all.”

  “I don’t need Mr. Griffin’s money,” she said as the crease developed on her forehead.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. No need to get upset.”

  “I’m not upset. I’m just saying, I am perfectly capable of taking care of me and my son on my own.”

  “I never say you weren’t.”

  “You implied it.”

  “Carrington, jeez.” I rubbed my forehead. I switched subjects. “How is Jackson doing in school?”

  “He’s doing fine.” I could feel her holding on to the tension of our last exchange.

  “He still in private school?”

  “Yeah, but he wants to go to public schools. He has it in his head that private schools don’t produce good athletes.”

  “I thought he would grow out of wanting to play football.”

  “No, he’s still obsessed with it. He still wants to be like his best buddy Jackson.” A hint of bitterness entered her tone. I didn’t call her on it. Things were tense enough already. “We have the same argument every year about why I won’t let him play, yet.”

  “What won’t you let him play?”

  “You didn’t start playing until you were older.”

  “At a private school.”

  “Yeah, well, Jack’s school isn’t Brentmore Academy either.”

  “What’s the real reason you won’t let him play.”

  “Why does their have to be a reason.”

  “I hope you’re not not letting him play because of me.”

  “What do you mean? I don’t have anything against you being a football player.” She stared daggers.

  “Ok. Just asking a questions.” I shook my head.

  She exhaled and looked down at the table. “I does have to do with you, but not in the way you think.”

  “Ok.”

  “With Jack’s medical issues, it would devastate him if the doctors told him he couldn’t play. I’ve been avoiding it so I wouldn’t have to have that conversation with him, yet. Watching his hero do what he loves, makes it harder.”

  “I’m sorry Carrington. I didn’t know.” I sat up. “But, there are guys in the NFL who have asthma. People prepare for it, manage it.”

  “Yeah, but I’m his mother. I’d rather him avoid it all together.” She took a sip and searched the restaurant for a distraction. “I can’t imagine what your mother felt like when she saw you break your leg.”

  My mouth went dry. I try not to think about it either. I never felt anything as painful as or horrifying when my tibia broke and my fibula snapped.

  “It was a freak accident.”

  “I know, but I don’t know how I’ll be able to sit their watch people try and hurt my baby.” A smile spread up from the corner of her mouth.

  “What?”

  “And, I can see the other side as well. I’ll probably be the stereotypical athletes mother. I’ll be at every game screaming louder then everyone.”

  “Oh yeah.” My shouldered fell. “I thought I’d turned you off on the game all together.”

  “No, I love watching you play.”

  “Well, how come you never came to my games?”

  “You know why.” She whispered.

  The waitress brought our food and I vowed to change the subject as soon as she left.

  “Can I get you anything else?” The cute blond waitress asked. I looked at her name tag, which I swore she had right over left nipple. She didn’t need to bring anymore attention to her breast, they were kind of sitting there out their for everyone to see.

  When I looked back at Carrington, she smirked. She caught me checking the waitress out. Maybe this was a good thing.

  “So, how’s your girlfriend feel about your trade?”

  Ok, not such a good thing?

  “What girlfriend?”

  “Come on Jackson, you have to be dating someone.”

  “Why do I have to be dating someone? Who are you dating? How would he feel about you sitting here having dinner with your ex-boyfriend?”

  “You’re not my ex-boyfriend.”

  “Oh, I don’t even get ex-boyfriend status. Well, what am I?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll explain it to my boyfriend and see what he thinks.”

  My insides clinched.

  Oh fuck. She doesn’t have a boyfriend does she?

  Why did I even care?

  “You have a boyfriend?”

  “I asked you first.”

  “I’m not seeing anyone.”

  “Why not?”

  “Uhuh, you never answered my questions. Who’s this guy your seeing?”

  “What? Are you jealous?”

  “No, just curious.”

  “Curious about what?”

  “Curious as to what type of guy you finally let in.” Her smile disappeared and she looked down at her plate. I nudged her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “No, it’s fine. As sad as it sounds, I don’t have time for relationships. I am too busy with work and what free time I do have, I spend it with Jack.”

  “Well, I’m kind of the same way.” She tilted her head up at me. “Especially during the season, I spend ten to twelve hours of day on football and the rest of the time, I spend asleep.”

  Her smile returned. I needed to think before I spoke and find ways to keep her smiling. I enjoyed seeing it on her face.

  “Is it harder then you thought it would be, the NFL?”

  “Yeah. Coming from FSU, I though we had as close to a professional system as you can have in college and my first day in training camp, it was funny how wrong I was.”

  “Really.”

  “Nothing can prepare you for it you just have to go through it.”

  “Kayla and I watched your first game and we both couldn’t stop laughing at how scared you looked.”

  “As scared as I looked, I felt much worse. I threw up in a trash can right before player introductions.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, which was weird because I made it through preseason fine. I went out for pre-game warm up and I was fine. Went through my routine and then the announcer said something like, now your San Diego Chargers and I leaned over and let it go right their in front of everyone.”

  She laughed out loud and covered her mouth. The people at the table next to us looked over.

  “It wasn’t funny.”

  “Oh my god.”

  “I know. It was a disaster.”

  “Yeah, but then you came out and threw for three touchdowns and what like 400 yards.”

  “I had one pick though.”

  “All I remember was the huge smile on your face at the end of the game.”

  “Yeah, that turned out to be a pretty good day.”

  “It’s not every day someone gets to achieve their dream in front of millions of people.”

  “Fast forward four years and I get traded.”

  “Come one, you know the trade had nothing to do with you. It was a business decision. You can’t control those. Only think you can do is take care what happened on the field and let the rest take care of it’s self.”

  I smirked at her.

  “What?”

  “I remember when you knew nothing about football.”

  “Well, it turns out, I am a football fan after all.”

  We continued our conversation through the rest of dinner and desert. I avoided any and all minefield and enjoyed myself. As we were getting ready to go her phone rang.

  “I’m sorry. It’s Jack, I have to take this.”

  “No, please.”

  “Hey baby.”

  Jack’s high pitched mumble exploded through the phone.

  “Who?”

  “Jackson. . .,” jack said, but the rest trailed off.

  “Hold on a minute.” She pulled the phone away from her ear and covered the phone with her other hand.

  “I’m sorry, but if Jack doesn’t speak to you tonight he is going to die.”

  I held out my hand for my phone.

  “Hey buddy.”

  “Jackson. Where are you?”

  “I’m with your mom, I had to come by her office to sign some papers before heading off to camp.”

  “You saw mom and not me.”

  “We’re working kid. You know, work before play.” She rolled her eyes at me and I rolled mine right back. “And, if you would go check you will find an email.”

  I pulled the phone away from my head as Jack dropped the phone and it sounded like he kicked it and then typing.

  “Oh, ok.” He signed. “So come over tonight.”

  “It’s late and aren’t you supposed to be in bed.”

  “This is special, mom won’t mind. For a minute?”

  “Ok, Let me ask her.” I covered the phone with my other hand. “You mind if I come by for a minute.”

  “Yeah it’s fine.”

  “Ok, buddy. Mom said ok. We’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes. Ok. Cool!”

  I followed Carrington over to her house, a twenty minute drive through town. I spent the entire drive over talking myself out of how good Carrington looked. She exuded confidence and she looked so mature and put together. She wasn’t the innocent girl I meet in college. She seemed to have gotten over her past and succeeded, but some things she mentioned tonight made me think she hadn’t quite gotten over everything. How could she? Maybe she pushed it down deeper.

  One of the reason I didn’t fight for her back then, she held so much pain and resentment over what Josh, her ex-boyfriend and Jack’s father, did to her. The sadness consumed her. Even today, I sensed it under the surface of her confident demeanor. She had years of practice pushing it down and out of the way. Carrington pulled into the driveway of a two story spanish inspired home on a corner lot. The place had the traditional Phoenix desert landscape of cactus and rocks. We stepped out and the stuffy air I felt when I arrived seemed to disappear. The night temperature dropped. I stepped out of the car and walked up the drive way to meet her. As soon as she stepped out, Jack had thrown open the front door and jumped off the porch.