One Little Chance (Sweet River)

Chapter 13

MARCH 11TH, 2023

Jordan

*sent picture of a cozy mystery book*

look what I found

Me

OH MY that’s one I’ve been wanting

Jordan

got it, I’ll bring it Sat

Me

Jordan, you don’t have to do that!

Jordan

gotta make sure you got treats stocked for those stressful days

Me

well, it was a stressful day, I’ll admit

Jordan

See? Good thing I got it then. So, what happened?

Me

There’s this one kid in my class. He knows how to cause a real ruckus.

Jordan

a little Jordan, eh?

N ext Saturday, I anxiously padded around my house until I could hear car doors slamming shut outside and people shouting their goodbyes to Coach Jordan.

I slipped outside my front door and hopped across the street. When Jordan’s eyes landed on mine, a grin broke across his face.

I grinned, too. After all this time, all these years, and all the different Sophies I’ve been, I could still make him smile as big as the Texas sky.

“I’ve got my Brooks in my truck.” He jerked a thumb toward where he parked.

I stood in front of him and wiggled a foot in front of him, showing off my shoes.

His eyes slowly worked their way up from my feet, and he said, “No way I’m looking as good as you in ‘em, but I’ll go get ‘em.”

The two of us kept pace, as easy as slipping on your old favorite jeans. Our shoes slapped against the pavement and the crisp spring breeze blew across our shoulders as our breath caught a rhythm.

I didn’t have to tell him the path. He knew these streets by the school as well as his route back home.

Our eyes kept finding one another, my shoulder bumping into his arm. High from running, high from each other. The conversation between us was as natural and rhythmic as our stride.

“I’d missed this,” I said, nearing the end of our lap. I’d been running alone all these years.

“Me too,” he said, looking out at the path ahead of us.

I felt reckless and giddy being around him, better than endorphins like I could run at full speed and win a race, so I ran ahead.

He shouted after me, “Where are you going?”

I turned around so I was running backward, facing him.

“Show off,” he said but in a way that made it sound like a compliment, making my stomach dip.

He ran up toward me, jogging at my side. “Think you can keep up?” I teased, spinning around to run full speed ahead.

“Oh, I’ll find a way every time.” He laughed, breathless as he ran after me. “You know that about me.”

And maybe he was right—maybe he could always find a way to catch up with me, no matter the speed, no matter the years between us.

Quickly, he was at my side, meeting my stride. His eyes danced over to mine.

I was out of breath, my pace slowing. We’d come back around to the park. I ran up onto the grass, pulling him down with me as I fell against the grass.

We didn’t land gracefully, the two of us on our backs facing the sky. Elm trees waved overhead. Panting, I twisted onto my side to face Jordan. He was out of breath, too, with sweat on his brow.

His gaze focused on me, a quiet question behind his eyes.

“What are you thinking?” I asked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to look that good running. It’s distracting for a man just trying to keep up. Unfair advantage,” he said breathless.

I cracked up, burying myself against his chest on old instinct. He pulled me in close, though, giving me a squeeze. He smelled like his familiar piney, sweaty self.

“You don’t like an easy race, anyway, Jordan. You never have.” I noticed something dark looping down from his shoulder. “What’s this?” I brushed it with my fingertips.

“Oh,” he said, then pulled up his sleeve to reveal a tattoo. “Another something new.”

“You’ve got a tattoo?” I said, taking in the compass pointing toward Sweet River’s coordinates.

“A few,” he said, then lifted his shirt to reveal his chest with a family tree on his right chest about the size of his fist, his family’s names along the roots. And then right above it, under his right shoulder in thick, dark letters was the name of his childhood street, our childhood street—Avalon Lane. Without thinking, I traced it with my fingertips, making him shudder.

“Our street?” Tears pricked my eyes. Something I’d avoided for so long, suddenly so sweet when I viewed it in this new way.

“I wanted to honor everything that made me who I am today,” he said, his voice low and warm. “My street. And the girl down the street. I’ll always carry it here.” He pressed my hand against the spot where the tattoo was on his chest. His skin was warm. His chest was solid against my hand.

“I wear that scar on my knee from when I fell during the race like that, too. It’s never faded away, and I never want it to,” I said quietly, pulling my hand from his chest and mindlessly reaching for my knee. “I still love every single one of our memories.”

“Me, too,” he said, pulling his shirt back down. “We were each other’s whole world.”

I nodded. Unable to say how much that meant to me. Hoping he could feel it in how I wrapped my arms tight around him.

He squeezed my side, making me laugh and squirm, until we were tangled up there on the grass sweaty, breathless, him leaning over me. My eyes were on his lips. I knew how they tasted—how they felt. Or was that something else new ?

I looked into his eyes, and they were taking me in. His brows were creased as if in near agony. Like he was torn. Like he knew better than to be playing with fire this way. Like he’d been here before, and it all burned up last time.

But then he pinned me onto my back on the grass and kissed me anyway. Needy, as if in the press of his body against mine, the pull of his lips, the grip of his hands on me, he’d channel every ounce of missing me.

It was the gasping, frantic kind of kissing. The “I’ve missed you so badly I could kiss you forever” kind of kissing.

He ran his hands in my hair, moving his mouth from my lips to my cheek, then down my neck, until he found his way back to my mouth. I ran my hands through his hair and down his back, pulling him closer.

He rasped, “ Sophie .”

With his forehead pressed over mine, our noses brushing, my skin afire, I gasped, “I’ve missed you so badly.”

He opened his eyes, and we looked at each other. This wasn’t just playing with fire anymore. This was consuming. We both knew it.

He swallowed. Then sat up, running his hand over his face. I stayed there on the grass, looking at the sky, resisting the urge to pull him back down to me.

“We’ve got to figure some stuff out, huh?” he said gruffly. “I need to pump the brakes for a second.”

I was the one who always pushed harder when the finish line was in sight, but I forced myself to take a breath and slow down for him, for us.