Vegas Aces: The Wide Receiver Complete Series

CHAPTER 13 TRISTAN

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and my watch vibrates on my wrist.

I should have turned on the do not disturb feature, but I didn’t account for each of the assholes in our group chat texting me separately.

I didn’t tell them I wasn’t going to watch. I didn’t tell anybody that the girl I once loved had planned what feels like a date for us as a way to distract me.

I feel like I should want to watch. It should be in my blood.

But ESPN will show the highlights, and that’s all I really need to know. Coach will make us watch film and break it down in training camp. I don’t need to punish myself further than that.

Instead of talking about it with anybody at all aside from Tessa and my parents, I ducked my head down, put my efforts into my dad’s garage extension, and beat the shit out of some nails. It’s almost done.

I’ve largely ignored everyone over the last week, but I should have known my friends wouldn’t leave me alone. I guess it’s part of why they’re my friends.

Travis: You watching?

Cory: Travis said we should all text you in the group chat. I’m not with them but I got the memo anyway. You got the game on or are you out P hunting?

Jaxon: Fuck, you see the way the Titans got trampled in the first play?

Travis: Dude, where are you?

Austin: Are you watching?

Austin: Why aren’t you in the group?

Austin: Where are you?

Austin: Are you alive?

Clearly the game has started, but I’m choosing to place my focus on Katniss and the districts of Panem…and the woman beside me who had the kind heart to distract me from the very thing my buddies are trying to force on me. To that end, I finally pull out my phone and click the do not disturb thing. I’ll get back to them later.

My parents acted like they understood why I didn’t want to attend their party. They pretended to get why I didn’t want to watch the game. But it feels like the only person who actually understands me is Tessa.

She knew to take me somewhere that phones aren’t supposed to be used. It was our luck this theater is showing Hunger Games this weekend, but maybe luck and fate are twined together and working overtime to give us the chances we need.

We whisper our favorite lines to each other along with the characters, and it’s as comfortable as singing a song together. We laugh, and at one point, I toss my arm around the back of her chair. She leans into me, and I smell the jasmine in her hair.

This is good. This is right.

But I still wonder why she took the ring off.

We don’t sit that way for very long. She readjusts, and then I do. Our hands brush in the popcorn bucket. I find I’m paying less and less attention to Katniss as I try to find ways to touch Tessa. I let my legs fall open so my knee bumps into hers, and neither of us moves a while.

And then the movie is over, and I have no idea what’s coming next.

We stay until the credits end, and I glance at my watch. It’s a little before seven thirty, which means the game will likely still be on another hour and a half.

They stretch the big one out to make all the money they can on commercials. It’s less and less about the game and more and more about the money every year.

But I play on. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there with every fiber of my being.

We’re the last to leave our little theater, and we head quietly back to Tessa’s car. The bite of the February air hits us both as we climb in.

She turns up the heat then turns toward me with a smile. “I have one more surprise.”

I keep my phone in my pocket even though I can’t help but wonder who’s winning and how many messages I have waiting for me.

She leads the conversation, carefully avoiding any mention of my line of work. “How’s the extension going?”

“We’ve made good progress this last week. Shouldn’t take too long to finish it up.”

“Did you look into the bounce houses for the fair?”

I nod and launch into everything I’ve learned about bounce house rentals, including a friend of a friend who owns some bounce houses, and then she tells me about the things she’s been working on.

Once we get back into Fallon Ridge, she drives past the Pizza Joint, where we can see the flicker and shine of the ten television screens inside all tuned into the same channel. The place is packed, and I’m sure everyone is having a great time. And then there’s the two of us. I don’t know the score of the game. I don’t care.

I could’ve gone to the game. Two free tickets were allotted to me, to every player in the league, and some of my teammates decided to attend while others chose not to. It’s not like we get premium seats. It’s more comfortable to watch from home where beer is cheap and snacks are aplenty. I went my rookie season with my busted ankle just for the experience. It was then I decided if I wasn’t playing in the game, I didn’t want to be there at all.

Maybe I’m just turning into a bitter old man, but the sting of our loss two weeks ago still hurts.

Still, so much has changed in those two weeks. I’m sitting in Tessa Taylor’s front seat, for fuck’s sake. Never would’ve guessed that one.

She drives toward the park, and she comes to a stop on the side of the street nearest our old tree—the one I carved T+T into. Our old T and T tree, the site of many picnics and kisses and laughs. She puts the car in park.

“It’s too cold for a picnic under our tree, but I thought we could have one close to our tree in my backseat,” she says.

I laugh even as my dick springs into action, pressing roughly against my zipper at the thought of getting Tessa Taylor into her backseat…of all the things I could do to her in her backseat.

God, I want to do things to her.

“It’s perfect,” I say, my voice hoarse with those thoughts.

She thought of everything.

I pull her front seat forward when I get out so I have enough room to climb into her backseat, and she starts pulling items out of a bag and setting them on a small blanket on the seat in between us.

Crackers, dip, grapes, cheese cubes, and cookies. Exactly like old times.

The only thing missing from this romantic reunion is a glass of wine.

My eyes meet hers, and I’m certain there’s a heat buzzing between us. It isn’t just my imagination.

Days like today remind me how close we once were.

An old movie and a picnic in the backseat show me that we might be able to get there again.