I turned my head and looked behind me and we locked eyes. His face scrunched up and he looked in pain physically and emotionally. I grabbed his hand and pull him down to me. I contorted my body for him to kiss me. Our tongue tangled and I pulled away for one moment and begged, “Fuck me, Jackson.”

  That’s all it took. He latched on to my shoulder and buried himself in me as far as he could go. He let out a muffled scream into the bed next to where where my head laid. His body spasmed and he collapsed on my back. I reached around and ran my hand through his hair, massaging his scalp. He pulled out of me and fell over to his side.

  I reached over and planted a kiss on his check and left my lips linger there while he caught his breath.

  My mind raced, but I remained quite. I waited to see if he would speak. If he would ask, what the hell happened. I wanted him to ask, but then again, I didn’t because I didn’t have an answer.

  I had enough therapy in the last six years to know what happened with me. I panicked when someone controlled me. At the same time, I got off on begin controlled. When Jackson focused on me, it was too intimate and and couldn’t deal with all those emotions at the same time. I was too out of control and I wasn’t ready for that.

  My fucked up, unstable, brain chemistry played with my heart. It happened after meeting Josh and transformed into something strange and inexplicable after being betrayed by both him and Jackson. I wasn’t sure who had damaged me worse. With Josh, I understood how what he did messed me up, but with Jackson, effect on my mental predicament was more complicated.

  Since Josh, Jackson and I had been together three times. The first time, we took our time. We explored each other. The emotional connection, sweet and gentle and we focused on making each other feel good and I trusted our feeling for each other. I trusted him.

  The second time, more of the same even though it happened a few months later. The final time, was both desperate and dirty, it was right before I asked him to leave; I told him it was over.

  When I found out he cheated on me, I didn’t trust all the feelings my heart and mind held on to because they were based on a lie. It shook me to the core worst then what Josh did to me.

  Now, I didn’t want nice, gentle and sweet because deep down I knew I didn’t deserve it.

  He opened his eyes and did that thing where he studied every inch of my face for a clue. The man could read a defense, but he had lost the ability to read me and it crushed him. The saddest thing was he had no idea why.

  When his breath became steady, I pulled his face towards me and kissed him with all the passion and feeling I could muster. He sigh and pulled me closer. I felt better that he felt something.

  Unfortunately, I felt nothing.

  ***

  Jackson Latre Mitchell

  My stomach growled and woke me up. I reached out for Carrington, but she was gone. I sat up and looked around, not having been in this room in the daylight.

  I laid back on the queen size bed and spotted a photo on the dresser against the wall; a photos of Carrington holding Jack when he was a baby, the first day she held him. He spent the first few weeks of his life in an incubator.

  On her arm, she wore a soft cast and I could make out the edge of the scar on her temple, but the bruises had faded. I had already left to go back home for the summer, but I came back to Tallahassee one last time to see her before she headed home to Dallas. I had thought to myself, I might never see her again.

  Look at us now.

  I scooted to the edge of the bed and found my clothes in a pile where I left them. My groan ached thinking about last night. I grabbed my jeans and hoped once I peed it would relieve some of the tension.

  It helped a little. I looked in the mirror at the indention her nails made on my sides. They weren’t that noticeable, but they were sore and it drew my eyes to them. It felt like at some point last night, Carrington clamped down and held on for dear life. I may have got a little carried away, but it had been so long since we’d been together. Not to mention a good month long amount of sexual tension.

  I tried to slow it down, but she’d reassured me in small ways that she was into it. I hoped I read the signals correct. I washed my face and got dress. The smell from the kitchen grew strong and my stomach protested, we missed dinner last night. I sucked it up and headed out to face her.

  She had cooked breakfast, last night couldn’t have been that bad.

  As she pulled a pot off the stove, a moment of de ja vu hit me as she stood their in burgundy shorts and a black tank top. She wore these weird moccasin slippers with the FSU emblems on the heals.

  “Nice slippers.”

  She dropped the spoon and it clank on the floor.

  “Shit. Jackson.” She bent down to pick it up and when she stood up and looked at me, I relaxed. We were ok.

  She threw the spoon in the sink and walked over to my side of the counter. I sat down on the stool and she stood between my legs and wrapped her arms around my neck. She gave me a determined peck on the lips and then hugged me tight. I exhaled as I pulled her close. Relieved to feel her in my arms and pushed any doubt or fear about last night out of my head. Two people who had been holding it in for so long feeling comfortable to let ourselves go. I thought because it was so different the other time we’d been together, but that was five years ago. We were both so young and in different places back then.

  “Good morning.” She said in my ear and I squeezed her tight. She giggled and my heart smiled and my nerves dissipated. “You hungry.”

  “Starving.”

  “Since we can’t seem to make it through dinner, maybe we can try breakfast.” She nibbled on my neck and the tension in my pants returned.

  “Not if you keep kissing me like that.”

  “Tell me to stop.”

  “Fuck that.” I lifted her onto the counter and took her face in my hands. I gazed into her eyes, which pulled me in and made me want to kiss her and never stop. My hands travel down to her breast and her nipples stained agains the fabric of her top. I went to grab the bottom of her shirt, when the front door opened followed by foot steps.

  “Mama.”

  I pushed away from her and turned as Jack came running around the corner.

  Carrington leaped off the counter and stood in front of me and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Jack, what are you doing here?”

  “I live here.” He stopped in his tracks. “Jackson, what are you doing here?”

  “Uh, your mom volunteered to feed me.”

  “Cool,” he said.

  Carrington walked over and gave him a hug and kissed him on the top of his head.

  “You ok? You sleep ok?:

  “Yes.”

  “You hungry.”

  “Yes. Ma’am.”

  “Good, go run and put your stuff up in your room. Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”

  Jack ran over and gave me a hug before heading out the room.

  The kid moved fast. He would make a heck of an athlete.

  When we heard him on the stairs, we both turned to each other and laughed.

  “Quick thinking about breakfast.”

  “Technically I was telling the truth. He doesn’t have to know it was supposed to be dinner.”

  “Maybe I was inviting you over for both.” She bit her lip. I groaned and I wanted her again. Jack would return any minute. Not enough time for me do what I wanted, so I stoled a quick kiss and sat down at the table before I got myself into any more trouble.

  Carrington and I never had another moment alone the whole morning. Even at the door, she only offered a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. I took what I could get. I left around eleven o’clock. I had enough time to head home and get a quick shower and pack for the game before I needed to pick up my parents and brothers up at the airport.

  I needed some time with them before I had to leave for the team hotel. I had to tell them about Carrington. I wasn’t sure how they were going to handle the news.

  Carrington and my mother seemed to hit it off the first time they met, but that might have been because my mom felt sorry for her and what she had been through. My parents had treated Josh like a son and his death effected them hard, but they didn’t know Carrington the way I did. When I told them back then how I felt about her, my mother accepted it, but warned me. She wanted the best for me and Carrington made me happy. So, when Carrington called is off, it pissed my mom off and my mother loved everyone. I chalked it up to her being over protective. Carrington was the first girl I ever talked to them about and my mother knew it would be hard for me to let her go.

  She was right.

  Accepting that Carrington and I were done was the hardest thing I every faced in my life. Even harder than coming to terms with Josh’s death. Football saved my life on both accounts. I let it consume me and reminded me, something on the planet I could control. I threw myself into, pun intended.

  I know one thing, there was no way I could do it, again.

  My oldest brother walked out of the airport exit with his phone in his ear, followed by my middle brother who flicked him in the back of the head. They hadn’t changed. Stephen, a former Ohio State football player, practiced copyright law in Washington DC. He and I looked alike.

  My middle brother, Patrick had no athletic ability what so ever. He played piano in a jazz band in New Orleans. He toured with some famous jazz musician. No one I had ever heard of, it’s Jazz. I tried to catch his shows when every I could, he was so freaking talented.

  We got our work ethic from our dad. My parents were proud of us, which made life a hell of a lot easier to deal with.

  “I don’t know why we didn’t rent a car or you could have had Brenden come and pick us up,” my mother said. She released my dad’s hand long enough to hug me.

  “I couldn’t wait to see you. Besides, I wanted a chance to see you guys before I had to leave for the hotel.”

  “Son, how you doing? You ready for tomorrow?” my dad asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Patrick attacked me with a bear hug and I winced as he grazed the spot where Carrington nicked me.

  “Hey Mr. NFLQB.”

  “You’re such an idiot,” Stephen said as he pushed Patrick out of the way and gave me a hug. “Hey man, you good?”

  “I am. It’s good to see you guys.” I looked around, “Where’s Natalie and who every it is your dating these days?” I pointed to Patrick.

  “It’s just us. I thought it would be nice, the five of us.” My mother said and wiped her eyes. “Together again.”

  “Yeah, besides, Nat isn’t in the mood to travel. In fact, she’s not in the mood to move at all.”

  “That’s what happens when you knock a girl up with twins.”

  “She’s my wife dim wad, it not like a knocked up some intern in my office.”

  “But, wasn’t she your secretary.”

  “Not mine.” Stephen pushed Patrick in the chest. “Shut up.”

  “Come on boys, get in the car. You’re making a scene,” Mom said.

  I watched my dad open the back passenger side door for my mom. When she got situated, he leaned in and gave her a kiss before shutting it and sliding in the passenger seat next to me. My parents where the coolest couple I know. I watched them. Envied what they had. They held hands and kissed all the time. I would often see them at parties or events and they checked on each other through out the evening and it never fails at some point the two of them would huddled up together, leaning into each other whispering and laughing like they were the only two people in the world. That’s what I wanted.

  My dad often told us how mom didn’t change him, she was the only woman he wanted to change for.

  Do I want to change for Carrington?

  “Why are you so quiet?” my dad asked.

  “No reason. I’m thinking.”

  “You nervous about tomorrow?”

  “No, well a little, but that’s not what I’m thinking about.”

  “Ok, now I’m worried. You should have your head in the game,” Mom said.

  “You know. I have a little more prep to do tonight, but I’m ready. I don’t think I’ve ever been more calm and confident about a football game. I don’t know. Things kind of aligned. I had to win the team over and I did. The coaches and my teammates have confidence in me and we get better every time we step on the field.”

  “Sounds good. So what’s wrong,” Dad said.

  “What makes you think something is wrong?” I asked.

  “Well, because I’m your father and I created yo. So I know when something isn’t right with you.”

  “Well, it’s not wrong … exactly.”

  “What is it exactly?” Mom asked.

  “Ok, I need to tell you guys something. I don’t want you to be shocked when you get to the game tomorrow.”

  My brothers got quiet in the back and I had their undivided attention.

  “I invited someone to the game tomorrow.”

  “Oh, yeah. Is she hot?” Stephen hit Patrick in the back of the head. “Ouch.”

  “Well, stop being an ass.”

  “Stephen, language,” Mom said. “Seriously, if you two don’t stop, I’ll have Jackson turned this car around and you both can get back on a plane and head home.”

  “Dad, he started it.” Patrick said and I cringed at the whine in his voice.

  “You act more like eight then twenty eight,” Dad said.

  “Guys. Carrington’s coming to the game tomorrow.”

  Everyone got quiet and no one spoke for a long time.

  “Did you hear me?” I watched my brothers in the rearview mirror exchange a glance. My mom’s hand covered her mouth. The acted like I told them someone died. My dad spoke first.

  “I didn’t realize the two of you were in touch,” Dad said.

  “Well, funny story. Carrington … she here.”

  “What do you mean, here?” Dad said.

  “She lives here … in Arizona.” I cleared my throat, “She moved here a little over a year ago.”

  “You came out here for her?” Patrick asked.

  “Dude, are you really that stupid. He was traded. He didn’t have a choice of where he went,” Stephen said as he touched my shoulder. “Did you?”

  “No. I didn’t. It’s a pure coincidence that we ended up here together.”

  “Are you two …” my mother swallowed and her eyes darted around looking for the appropriate word, “together.”

  The entire back set leaned forward waiting for my response.

  “Sort of.”

  They all collapsed into the seat and shook their heads. I didn’t think it was possible to disappoint them all at the same time, but I succeeded.

  Chapter Eight

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  I freaked out about last night, all day and all night. Jackson busy with his family, so I didn’t have to talk to him about it. He sent me a text telling me goodnight and that he would call me in the morning.

  Our night played over and over in my mind. I woke up and stared at him for a longtime before getting out of bed. He had the cutes, satisfied grin across his face and I felt sick to my stomach.

  When he scared me in the kitchen, he held a concerned look on his face as he studied me. I felt the need to comfort him. It’s not like I didn’t want to talk to him about how I felt and the emotions running through me. I did and I would, but today not the right time. I pushed my feeling aside because he didn’t need any other distractions the day before his big game. Jackson took my sign as frustration, but it was a sigh of relief. It was getting hard to pretend with his hand squeezing my breast.

  I lingered in bed when he called the next morning.

  “Hey.”

  I reminded myself to smile even though I knew he couldn’t see me and sang. “It’s game day.”

  “Yeah it is.”

  “How’d you sleep?” I asked.

  “Pretty good, but I woke up early.”

  “Games not until three, maybe you can get a nap in later.”

  “Maybe. At least some quiet time. How did you sleep?”

  “Good. How’s your family?”

  “There fine.” He dragged out the fine a little to long.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Well, I sort of told them about you.”

  “What did you tell them exactly?”

  “I told them you were coming to the game and that we are together sort of.”

  “Together sort of.”

  “Listen I know you wanted to keep this quiet, but it sort of came out and I needed to explain why you were at the game.”

  My face flash hot at his description of us. The we are together statement annoyed me, while the addition of the sort of after it, hurt. I groaned and buried my head under the covers.

  “Hey, don’t freak out. It’s no big deal.”

  “Then why did you hesitate.”

  “Because you freak out about everything.”

  “Jackson, we haven’t so much as had a conversation in the last five years until recently. How do you know what I freak out about anymore?”

  “I think this conversation proves my point.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Are you still coming to the game?”

  “Who else will be in the suite?”

  “My brothers. My agent and he’s trying to get me some local endorsement opportunities. I think he invited some people.”

  “And, when they ask me who I am?”

  “Tell them what you want.” Jackson clears his throat and his voice lowers.” “Listen, I have to go. I’ll see you after the game.”

  “Ok.” I whispered, after he hung up without saying goodbye.

  Knock, Knock

  “Mama, you up?”

  I groaned. “No.” I yelled, but my thick comforter muffled the sound.

  The door creak open and Jack’s socks scooting across the floor. “Mama. I made you breakfast. What time are we going to the game?”

  I pushed the covers off and found my son staying in my room carrying a tray with frozen waffles and orange juice. I smiled and sat up. He handed me the tray, grabbed the remote off the nightstand and crawled into the center of my bed.