Beauty and the Running Back (9 page)

Jessa

The touch of his hand nearly shatters me there on the porch,
but I have to hold strong for both of us. For
all
of us. Putting on my
best resolute smile, I turn my face toward Dean’s. The look of anxious concern
on his face tugs painfully at my heartstrings, but I can’t waver now.

“Everything’s great,” I reassure him, leaning lightly
against his warm body.

“Really?” he laughs softly, glancing back toward the front
door, “Cause the mood in your house is about as lighthearted as a funeral.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, “That’s pretty typical.”

“It seems different than usual,” Dean observes, “Something’s
up, isn’t it?”

Goddamn his intuition. I can’t hide anything from this man.
It’s one of the things I’ve come to love best about him, but now I wish he was
just a little more dense. It would make lying to his face a lot easier.

“There
is
something I need to talk to you about,” I
allow, turning to face him.

“Shit,” he mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets,
“That’s never a good sign.”

“Yeah,” I reply, shaking my head, “I don’t think you’re
going to be thrilled about what I have to tell you. But I need you to promise
to try and keep an open mind, OK?”

“OK,” he agrees, “I’ll do my best. Shoot.”

I take a long, steadying breath before locking my eyes onto
his. I can do this. I have to.

“I don’t think we should come out as a couple after all,” I
tell him point-blank.

His eyes widen with incredulous confusion.

“What? Why not?” he asks, “I thought we agreed—”

“We did. But circumstances have changed,” I go on.

“Circumstances? What circumstances?” he demands.

“It may not be the best time to go public after all,” I tell
him, choosing my words carefully, “Because I’m not going to be around this
coming semester to deal with the fallout. I’ve decided to spend the spring
semester in Boston, with Allison.”

Dean’s confusion deepens into hurt as I look on.

“What are you talking about?” he breathes, “You can’t just
go off to Boston. You… What about school?”

“I’m going to do a semester at Boston University,” I tell
him, “I got into this incredible creative writing workshop they have there in
the spring. It’s a really competitive application process, but I made the cut.”

“I didn’t know you were applying for a transfer,” he says,
searching my face.

“It’s not a transfer, it’s just for the one semester,” I
clarify, “Like a study abroad, without the abroad part. I’ll be back in the
summer.”

“The summer,” he repeats, his voice hollow. “You’re leaving
Rayburn for the better part of a year. You’re leaving
me
—”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was considering this,” I tell
him, taking his hands, “I heard about the workshop before we even met. And it
was just such a long shot that I’d even get into this class, I didn’t think it
was worth bothering you with it.”

“So let me guess,” he says, brushing his thumb across my
knuckles. My favorite feeling in the world. “You want to be ‘just friends’
while you’re away? Is that it?”

“No,” I breathe, clutching his hands in mine, “Dean, I don’t
want to break up. Or even take a break.”

“You… You don’t?” he asks, raising his eyes to mine.

“Not at all,” I say adamantly, stepping toward him, “I love
you, Dean. It’s going to break my heart, having to be away from you. But this
is something I need to do for myself, you know? For my future. That doesn’t
mean that we have to stop caring for each other, or being a couple. People do
long distance relationships all the time. And the second I’m back, we can pick
up right where we left off with our plan.”

“So… I can go into my senior year with you by my side?” he
asks, his voice rough with emotion, “We can let the world know that we’re
together?”

“Absolutely,” I smile, tears stinging my eyes, “When I get
back, we can tell everyone we’ve ever met that we’re madly, stupidly in love.”

Without another word, Dean pulls me into a tight embrace. I
close my eyes, breathing him in as I try to hold back my desperate tears. Lying
to him is the last thing I ever wanted to do, but I can’t tell him what’s
really going on. If he knew that I was pregnant, he would drop everything to
support me. His college football career would be as good as over—not just
because all his attention would be on me, but because my father would kick him
off the team in a fucking heartbeat if he knew Dean knocked me up. I won’t let
my pregnancy be the end of Dean’s life. Or the end of my life, for that matter.

I’m going up to Boston to stay with Allie, all right. But
I’m not taking some class at BU. I’ll be taking online courses with Rayburn
while I see this pregnancy through. I’m not going to have an abortion after
all, but I’m not going to saddle this baby with an uncertain future, either.
I’m going going to find a wonderful adoptive family who will give this little
one the life he or she deserves. Of course I’ll tell Dean about my intentions,
but not until everything’s settled. He won’t be able to ruin his life for my
sake once I’ve lined up such an excellent alternative for this little person who’s
growing inside of me. I’ll take care of everything. I owe him that much.

“Christ, I’m gonna miss you…” Dean mutters, kissing the top
of my head.

“I’m gonna miss you too, baby,” I whisper, wrapping my arms
even tighter around his waist, “I’m so sorry. About all of this…”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says, lifting my chin with
a finger, “If this is something you have to do, then I support you. Even if I
fucking hate that we’ll have to be apart. That I won’t be able to see you. To
touch you…”

I bite my lip, willing myself not to break into a million
pieces in his loving arms. How can he still know the right thing to say even
when I’ve kept him totally in the dark? For a second, I nearly lose control of
myself and spill everything. I swear, I’m
this
close…

“When do you have to leave for Boston?” he asks, tucking a
lock of hair behind my ear.

“Allie’s heading up right after Christmas,” I say softly. He
winces as the information lands. That’s less than two weeks away.

“Will you still come to the Bowl?” he asks.

“Of course I will,” I tell him, “I wouldn’t miss it for the
world.”

“Good,” he smiles, “I’m winning it just for you, after all.
It’d be a shame if you missed out on it.”

“You’re not rid of me yet, Crash,” I grin sadly, giving him
a light punch on the shoulder.

“I never want to be rid of you, Cahill,” he replies, placing
his hands on my hips. Even this simple closeness feels illicit with my family
so nearby. “Here. Let me show you…”

Dean

I let one hand stray from Jessa’s hip into my coat pocket.
With a knot in my throat the size of a softball, I take out the small gift box
and place in her hands.

“What’s this?” she breathes, looking up at me with those
blue eyes I’ve come to love so goddamn much.

“It’s your Christmas present,” I smile softly. “And also
sort of a thank you present.”

“I don’t really deserve a thank you present,” she smiles
back, “I didn’t do any actual tutoring, after all…”

“It’s not the fake tutoring I want to thank you for,” I
murmur, “I want to thank you for… taking a chance on me. For getting to know
me. I know I’m not exactly your type…”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Jessa says, her eyes
misting over, “Getting to know you… That’s been the real gift.”

“Well, I hope you’ll accept this one anyway,” I laugh,
glancing down at the little box in her hands.

With a smile, Jessa eases open the box. Her eyes go wide as
she stares down at the necklace resting on the velvet lining. It’s a simple
silver chain that’s plain enough, but what it sports is the real gift. On the
chain rests a vintage opal ring, with intricate golden filigree around the
setting.

“Dean…” Jessa breathes.

“It was my mom’s,” I tell her, speaking around the lump in
my throat, “She didn’t own much jewelry, but this ring was passed down from her
mom, and her mom before that. I think it’s from the 1930’s? I don’t really know
anything else about it, except that’s it beautiful. And that it was one of
Mom’s favorites. It shouldn’t be in a box somewhere, gathering dust. She
wouldn’t have wanted that. It should be worn by someone as beautiful as you. If
you like it, that is.”

“I love it,” Jessa whispers, laying her hand on my cheek,
“Dean, it’s incredible. But are you sure…?”

“I want you to have it,” I tell her, laying my hand over
hers, “And my mom would have wanted you to have it too, if she could have met
you. I just know it.”

A single tear rolls down Jessa’s cheek as we stand in the
darkened corner of the front porch. I brush it away with my thumb as I take her
face in my hands.

“I love you, Jessa Cahill,” I tell her adamantly, “And I
want you to know that I’m here. Even when I can’t see you every day, or hold
you every night, I’m here for you. And I will be for as long as you still want
me.”

“I love you too, Dean,” she smiles, the tears coming
steadily now, “Now more than ever. God, you have no idea…”

I bring my mouth swiftly to hers, catching her full lips in
a kiss. Her body all but melts against mine as I hold her to me, trying to
memorize the feel of her. These next few months are going to be torture without
her, but I know I have to let her go. The easiest way to drive someone away is
by holding on too tight. And there’s no way I’m going to risk that with Jessa.
After all, a few months is nothing in the scope of the entire future. And I
realize now that that’s exactly what I want with her.

A future.

PART II:

Chapter Eight

Spring

***

Jessa

“Oh my god,” I gasp, pressing my hands to my chest, “You are
an
angel
.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Allie laughs, handing over
the two boxes of Girl Scout Cookies she brought home for me. Samoas and Thin
Mints. The perfect combination.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, pushing my laptop
aside as Allison sits down next to me. She laughs as I all but tear open the
box of Thin Mints with my teeth.

“You’re gonna get crumbs all over your belly,” she teases,
grabbing a cookie for herself before I devour them all.

I glance down at my rounded midsection. It’s already March,
and I look every bit of those six months along, let me tell you. Allison lays a
hand on my belly and lets out a laugh.

“He must really like Girl Scout cookies,” she smiles, “He’s
kicking away like a maniac.”

“We don’t know that it’s a boy,” I remind her.

“Yeah, I know. But I’ve got a hunch,” she replies, her eyes
rapt on my belly as we both feel for the baby’s movements.

Allison has been a godsend throughout this entire process.
Even though I made a drastically different choice than her when faced with an
unexpected pregnancy, she’s never tried to talk me out of my decision. With her
medical know-how, she’s helped me take excellent care of myself and my baby,
arranging checkups with the OBGYNs at her teaching hospital. And just as
importantly, she’s helped me keep this a secret from everyone back at Rayburn.
Our parents, my friends, and of course, Dean.

“Are you still looking through potential families?” she
asks, glancing over at my laptop. “I thought you would have clicked with one by
now.”

“There are so many to choose from,” I sigh, pulling the
computer closer.

I have two tabs open: one is a completed quiz for one of my
online courses with Rayburn, the other is a directory of families looking to
adopt a baby in the Boston area. Looking to adopt a baby like the one I happen
to be currently carrying.

“This couple seems nice,” Allison says, reading the profile
of an attractive pair from nearby Brookline. “They both work in tech, went to
Ivy League schools, eat organic…”

“I just don’t know how you’re supposed to pick your baby’s
future parents the same way people pick OKCupid dates,” I say sullenly.

“You’ll know the right people when you see them,” Allie
assures me, “Just trust your gut, you know?”

“My gut can’t focus on anything except getting as many of
these Thin Mints inside of it as possible,” I laugh, waddling after Allison as
she heads for the kitchen. “How is it supposed to make the most important
decision I’ve ever faced?”

Allison’s apartment in Boston is small but incredibly homey.
I’m still amazed at her selflessness in sharing this space with me, especially
while she’s insanely busy finishing up her pre-med degree. Not everyone would
go so far to help out someone in need—not even if that someone was a baby
sister. I’ve been living here with Allison since right after the New Year. I
told my parents the same story I told Dean, about the creative writing workshop
at BU. Blaire even used her coding know-how to make a fake homepage for the
workshop that I could point my parents to.

 I was a little nervous about leaving my mom alone with my
dad, but he’s in the best spirits of his life these days. Just before I left
town for Boston, the Rayburn Red Birds won their Bowl, thanks in large part to
Dean. Words cannot describe how proud I was to watch him score the winning
touchdown of that game. Or how heartbroken I was to have to leave so soon
after. But even now, six months into this pregnancy and three months into me
and Dean’s long distance relationship, I stand by my choice wholeheartedly.
This
is what’s best for everyone.
That’s been my mantra since moving up to
Boston. Getting pregnant at nineteen wasn’t exactly my plan, but I’ve got in
under control.

Well. As much control as it could possibly be under, anyway.

A Skype call starts ringing on my laptop, and I see that it’s
Dean dropping a line. I hurry to carry the laptop over to my desk and dim the lights.
By only filming myself from the shoulders up and making the lighting as
terrible as possible, I can pretty easily hide the fact that I’m pregnant over
Skype. Though who knows—if I get any bigger that probably won’t even work
anymore. My chipmunk cheeks and insanely luxurious head of hair will give me
away in a heartbeat. But in the meantime, it’s worth the effort to see Dean’s
face smiling back at me through the computer screen.

“Hey baby,” I smile, accepting the video call.

“There’s my girl,” Dean grins back at me.

He’s sitting on his bed, wearing a black tee shirt and
jeans. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder… and the lust grow
hotter. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones or what, but just the sight
of him is enough to get me hot and bothered between the legs.

“You haven’t turned into a popsicle up there in Boston yet,”
he observes.

“Nope,” I laugh, “That’s because I still get nice and hot
every time I see you.”

He groans longingly at my words. “You can’t crank me up from
three states away. That’s just not fair.”

I glance over to make sure my bedroom door is closed before
going on.

“You don’t want to know that I’m thinking about that big,
gorgeous cock of yours?” I ask him, smiling through the camera, “That I can’t
wait to feel it drive up inside of me again?”

A wide grin spreads across Dean’s face as he steps off the
bed. I hear his bedroom door close off screen, and when he steps back into
frame I can already see his dick standing at attention in his jeans. Since I
left for Boston, we’ve gotten very creative with our sex life. We sext like
maniacs, trade dirty pictures (I took a million before I started to show, and
have been doling them out little by little along the way), and of course, Skype
sex.

“You know I’ve been counting down the days until I can fill
you up again,” Dean growls, unbuckling his belt.

“I’m getting wet just thinking about it,” I breathe,
slipping my hand between my thighs.

“What if I was there to roll my fingertips over your clit?”
he murmurs, “Just the way you like. Would that feel good?”

“That would feel amazing…” I sigh, pressing two fingers to
my hard, aching clit and rubbing away.

I circle my slick pearl as Dean frees his cock from his
jeans. His steady hand wraps itself around his thick shaft, working up and down
as I lean into my own touch. My sex clenches in rich anticipation. Our eyes
lock as we get ourselves off together, our new favorite thing to do in the
world. Who says a little distance has to totally derail your sex life?

My hand stops dead in its tracks as my baby send a huge kick
into the side of my belly. For a brief second, I’m terrified that Dean might
have seen it through the screen—but of course, he’s more than occupied. Still,
I find myself unable to get back into the moment with Dean. Not because being
pregnant has made it hard to get off or feel sexy, but because I’m starting to
feel a little queasy about lying to Dean. He's the father of this baby, for
god’s sake, and he doesn’t even know it exists. I know that keeping him in the
dark for now is for his own good, but still. The guilt is starting to build up.

I get my head back in the game, dirty talking Dean through
his orgasm. It’s the least I can do, considering the fact that I’m off having
our baby in secret. I remind myself that it won’t be a secret forever. I’m
going to tell him when the baby is born. But that means I have to complete the
seemingly impossible task of picking out an adoptive family before that
happens. At least I still have three more months to think about all of this.
I’m sure by the time the baby is actually born, I’ll have everything ready to
go. What choice is there, really?

“God, I miss you…” Dean breathes contentedly, after he’s
cleaned himself up.

“I miss you too,” I smile, “More than you can possibly
know.”

Will he still look at me with those same kind eyes after the
truth comes out? I have no way of knowing. All I can do is bask in his love
while it lasts, and be prepared for the fallout if—
when
—it comes.