False Start: A Football Romance (49 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Charlee

I feel like all I have done for the last two months is cry. I'm so sick of crying, but so thankful that I can feel enough to do it. It’s so hard for me to understand how a parent could abandon her child that way. Just drop him off and leave him, not knowing if he would live or die. My chest aches. My heart is shattering for the little boy left all alone in the middle of an abandoned park in the middle of the night. I want to take away all the hurt and pain she caused him and cocoon him in warmth and shower him in all my love.

“I'm sorry, Lucas. I had no idea,” I say, turning my head into his chest and wrapping my arms around his neck. I can't believe the amazing man he has turned into despite his horrible start in life. The amount of love I feel for him seems to increase everyday with every single fact I learn about him. The way he holds me, caring for me, loving me just makes me fall for him more and more until I don't know where he stops and I begin. The similarities between our childhoods is startling. It never crossed my mind that someone out there had lived through something similar to my own life before. I shut myself off from the world and pretended like I was all alone in my pain.

“It's okay, Charlee. Honestly. I didn't tell you any of that to make you feel bad for me, or to try to pretend that what you're dealing with isn't tragic, because it is. I had to tell you all of that so that you could fully understand what I'm about to tell you now.”

He pulls back, lifting my head off his chest and staring me in the eyes. He captures my attention and holds it, making sure I am listening to what he feels he needs to say.

“Every day, I wish for the chance to see my biological mother again. Just once. I know that’s hard to believe, but I need her to see me. I need to tell her how much I still love her and thank her for the selfish sacrifice she made all those years ago. I want to hug her neck and tell her that I forgive her.”

“How can you say that, Lucas? After everything?”

“Because, Charlee, if she hadn't done what she did that night, not only would I probably be dead, but I wouldn't have had the chance to meet the woman I call my mom or to hold my son. I never would have met or fallen in love with you. Neither of us would be here right now. Her decisions in life set me on the path that led me straight here. I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world.”

“I know this is hard for you. You feel lost inside of yourself and you don't know which way is up. I get that. I swear I do, baby, but you have been given the second chance I wish I had. Don't waste it. I know how much easier it is to shut down and bury the pain. I did it for many years. But that's not living, Charlee. That's surviving, and you are so much better than that.”

“It's just so hard!” I say, letting the sobs break through the wall I trapped them behind. The fact that he can see me hiding and say just the right thing to make me want to stop shows how good he is for me. I can't promise him that things will be okay between my mom and me, but I can promise to try, and I do right before I capture his mouth with mine. This time, the kiss isn't sweet and slow. It's hard and fast. My kiss is an attempt to force everything away, even for just a few minutes. I need to let it all go.

“Make love to me, Lucas, please. I need you.”

He doesn't argue or make me beg. His body is so finely in tune with my own that I believe he feels what I feel. He knows what I need right now, and he doesn't hesitate to give it to me. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he lifts me up off the couch and carries me to his bedroom, where he lays me gently on the edge of the bed. I sit up, letting my legs fall to the floor, and pull him closer to me with the hem of his shirt. He leans over, kissing me sweetly on the mouth as I work his shirt up, kissing along his rock hard stomach. Chills break out along his skin as I trail my tongue along the ridges of his abs before he pushes me back on the bed. He lifts his shirt and tosses it across the room before kneeling between my legs and teasing his tongue up the soft skin along my stomach, taking my shirt higher and higher until he reaches the strap of my black lace bra. I lift off the bed a little and let him pull it over my head and toss it to the side with his own.

My hands can't get enough of him. I trail them all along his back, loving the way his muscles bunch beneath my fingertips. His mouth captures mine again, hot and greedy. All thoughts leave me. I'm rubbing against him now and groaning in his mouth when I feel his swollen erection pressed firmly against me. I need him inside of me NOW. My hands slip to his waist, where I deftly unbuckle his pants and slide them as far down as I can from my position underneath him.

“Please,” I beg. He pulls back, squatting on his heels, and yanks my jeans down, taking my panties with them. His eyes rake over my naked body squirming beneath him. I flush, embarrassed by the uninhibited desire I see reflected in his gaze, and then he lowers his mouth to my stomach again and begins alternating between kissing and licking down my body until he reaches my center. All thoughts fade when his mouth touches me there. I moan deeply into the back of my throat and try to find something to grab hold of.

I'm on the edge, about to explode. All it will take is just one more gentle suck on my sensitive nub, and I will be spiraling out of control. I want him inside of me before it happens. Releasing the bed sheets, I grip his shoulder and pull him from his position between my legs. He slips his pants the rest of the way down after pulling a condom from his wallet. He tosses the empty wrapper to the side and rolls the rubber shield down his bulging length before centering it against my slick opening. I close my eyes, waiting for him to pierce me, but he hesitates. I open my eyes to find him gazing down at me. He pushes the hair from my face and cups his hand around my jaw while looking deep into my eyes . . . into my soul.

“Je t’aime, Charlee Cooper.”

Tears fall from my eyes, unbidden by me. I nod my head up and down, wanting more than anything to feel him inside of me right this moment. He obliges willingly, sliding deep inside me, impaling me, filling me. Moments later, I’m teetering on the edge once more. There is no stopping it this time. I roll with waves of passion as they course through me, shaking me to my core.

“Lucas!”

I yell out as I clench around him as he shudders within me, joining me as we spiral out of control. He falls across me, resting on his elbows on each side of my head. My chest is still rising and falling rapidly as I try to catch my breath. He slips out of me and trails tiny kisses down the side of my face.

“I love you, baby.”

I fall asleep moments later, still wrapped in his arms. I know there is a lot of shit I still need to work through at home, and I will, but right now, this is what I need more than anything else. To be held and loved.

“I love you, Lucas,” I whisper just as the darkness claims me.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Lucas

Watching her sleep has become one of the things I look forward to. Her guard is down, and she has an almost ethereal look when she's asleep. Ethereal? Who even uses that word? What the hell is wrong with me? I shake myself from my self-induced madness and smile. She shifts slightly, curling into her pillow, and releases a deep breath. I snuggle up close and wrap my arm around her waist, kissing her softly on her cheek. She smiles, and her eyes open slightly as she whispers, "Hi."

"Hi, yourself," I softly murmur into her ear, laying my head on her chest. She closes her eyes, and I lie there listening to the slow, steady strum of her heart. Before I even realize it, the sun is high in the sky, announcing midday, and the bright rays are beginning to trickle through the curtains. I’d planned on taking her to the dugout today and showing her around the stadium, but somehow, my plans veered off course.

I pull her as close to me as possible and close my eyes, allowing her breathing to lull me to sleep.

The soft click of the bedroom door startles me, and I roll over to find I'm all alone in the bed. Lying on my back, I push my hair out of my face and shake my head.

Climbing out of bed, I pull on my shorts and stumble down the hallway. The smell of bacon begins to fill my nostrils, and I laugh at the fact that I thought she had left. "Good morning, sunshine," she says as I come into the kitchen. "You hungry?"

I nod and fill a glass with some orange juice. "Smells amazing."

"Why thank you. I told you I could cook."

"Well, what do you know? She’s cute, sassy and knows her way around the kitchen," I tease. She points her spatula at me with a serious look on her face, but it doesn't last. The corners of her mouth begin to pull up as she fights the smile playing on her lips.

"Don't be an asshat," she retorts, turning back to the stove.

I laugh because I don't know what else to do. She turns her head and cuts her eyes at me. "Don't make me—" she starts to say as I rush over to her, pressing her against the refrigerator.

"Don't make you what?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out.

"Wow. That's a first. You're speechless. Amazing." She pushes me away with a smile and turns back to the frying pan. A sudden smack on the ass makes her jump.

"Are you done?" she asks.

"Yeah." She nods, turning to look at me one more time when I sit down. She hands me a plate and sits across from me.

"Well, how is it?"

"It’s ok."

"Just ok?" she asks.

"Yeah." I can see the red creeping across her cheeks, and its fucking adorable.

"Chill, girl. I'm just messing with you." She nods slowly, biting her top lip.

"It’s delicious. I could get used to this."

Chapter Thirty-Four

Charlee

It's two in the afternoon and class is about to let out, so I need to run and pick Everly up from daycare. I feel bad about leaving her there and then skipping class, but I needed today for me and my own mental health. I feel better—more centered—and I know if I am in my best shape, then I’ll be more adept to care for her.

I get dressed lightning fast and scrub some toothpaste along my teeth with my finger before meeting Lucas in the living room and letting him know that I'm ready to go. The drive to daycare is quiet but far from uncomfortable. My hand rests in his while he steers with his left. His thumb rubs circles on the back of my hand and along my wrist. I lean my head against his arms, inhaling the warm, masculine scent of his cologne. He smells of pine and . . . almonds. I love it.

When we pull back up at the house, he puts the car in park, but he doesn't shut it off. I almost ask him what he’s thinking and if he has someplace else he needs to be, but then I wonder if maybe he just wants some time away from me, or some space or whatever it is that guys usually need. I have no clue how to act and what to say or not say. I don’t know how to be this girl.

Fuck it.

“How do you feel about a movie after Everly goes to bed tonight? Maybe stay all night?” I ask.

“Are you sure? I don't want to seem too needy.” He laughs out loud as he runs his hand through his silky brown hair.

“Yes, I’m sure. I didn't want to be too pushy,” I say, laughing along with him.

“Okay, for now on, let’s say what we want and not worry about how the other may or may not feel.” He cuts the engine to the car, and the silence is deafening.

“It's a deal!” I say.

“In that case, I want you to move into my room, permanently. We can set up your room as the nursery for Everly.”

“Really? It’s not too soon?” I ask. My heart jumps in my chest, waiting for his response.

“Pas pour moi. Not for me.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.” Grabbing my car door, I push it open and make my way to the back to unhook Everly’s seat strap and pull her car seat free.

Lucas's phone rings as I pull her out of the car, and he lets me know he will be inside as soon as he finishes with the call. I walk up to the door with a light bounce in my step, glancing back one more time before opening the door. I have a crazy gut feeling that something bad is happening, but I can't worry about that right now.

I have to place my trust in him.

I kick off my shoes just inside the front door and yell into the house to let my mom and Aaron know I'm home. No one answers, so I head toward the kitchen in search of them. Something catches my eye as I pass the living room, so I take a small detour through there. My mom is on the couch. She looks to be sleeping until I step fully into the room. She’s lying on her back on the couch, her eyes closed. One hand is hanging off the side of the couch, her fingertips laying against the carpet in a pile of vomit.

My eyes rake over her body, trying to comprehend what I'm seeing, and then my brain kicks into overdrive and I am screaming her name as I rush toward her. Everly is crying now in her seat, scared after being awoken so abruptly, but I can’t move and see to her right now. I can’t move period.

The entire front of mom’s shirt is covered in puke. It's caked along the side of her mouth and matted into her hair. It looks like she turned her head and threw up, but wasn't able to move out of the way afterward. The smell hits me then, and my mouth starts to water the way it always does just before I puke. I pull my shirt up to cover my nose and mouth, and that’s when I notice I have stuck my hand in something. It's brown and mushy, and my stomach can't take anymore.

I hurl.

I don't realize I'm still screaming until Lucas comes barreling through the front door. The look on his face can only be described as pure horror. His eyes are wild as he searches the room for me and then tries to figure out what happened. He rushes to me, wrapping me in his arms and pulling me from the room. I sit hard on the base of the stairs while he goes back in the living room and checks her for a pulse while dialing 911. I hear him explaining what happened to the dispatcher on the other end of the line, but I can't make out his words. I can't piece them together.

Lucas comes back moments later carrying Everly in his arms, bouncing her gently in the crook of his arm. She has finally quieted and is busy suckling on her pacifier.

The ambulance arrives five minutes, ten minutes later. I don't know how long has passed. They ask me a series of questions that I am unprepared to answer.
In shock
, I hear one of them say, and then I don't hear anything, because they are gone and I am left here all alone once again. No . . . that's not true. Lucas is still here. He's sitting next to me on the steps, holding me close to him. My body tenses, alerting him to the fact that I am back in the land of the living.

“Come on, baby, let's get you cleaned up.” As soon as he says it, I realize I'm still covered in my mother's vomit and feces. I feel my heartbeat pick up, and then claws of panic start to scratch at the walls of my resolve. I stand and race up the stairs to the bathroom, peeling off my clothes as I go. I put the water as hot as I can stand it, and then I make it just a little hotter. I need this off me. I pour heaping amounts of body wash into my hands and scrub at my skin. When that doesn't seem to help, I use my nails, scratching a layer of skin off. Anything to get the smell gone.

Lucas opens the shower curtain and pulls my hands away from my body, locking them into one of his. His voice is calm and smooth as he coaxes me down from the edge of insanity. I listen to the gentle hum of it as it brushes against me, calming me. He releases me hands and pours some shampoo into his own hand and then gently scrubs away at my scalp. I can almost pretend we are back at his room and he is in the process of making love to me, but when I close my eyes, I see my mother's lifeless body laying against our maroon couch. I rinse my hair and then step from the shower and dry off with the towel he holds out for me.

“Is she . . . was she alive?” I finally summon the strength to ask him.

“Yes, baby. Barely.” I nod my head, accepting his answer. I can’t believe how much it hurts me to think that she might have died while I was out having a good ole time with my boyfriend. That's just something I could never forgive myself for.

“Come on. Let's get you dressed and we will head to the hospital,” he says, pulling me toward my bedroom. Lucas walks me to my bed and then tells me he is going to run and grab a new shirt to put on.

“Do you want me to call anyone for you, Charlee? Your brother? Ashlin?”

“Can you? Is that too weird? I just can't do it right now. I don't know what to say.”

“Of course, baby. I'll call them for you. Come downstairs when you're done, and we will head to the hospital. I’ve already got Everly and her bag ready and waiting downstairs,” he says, taking my phone from me when I offer it to him. I know he and Ashlin get along pretty well, but I don't think he has her number, and I know he doesn't have my dad's. It may seem like a crazy time and situation, but Mom coming back in town when she did gave Dad the chance he needed to forgive her. They have been having regular conversations on the phone just about daily, and I know he would want to know what is going on. Just makes sense for him to use mine. That way, I don't have to find pen and paper and write down the numbers.

I finish dressing in record time, choosing to just throw on a pair of black jeggings and one of my dad’s old oversized t-shirts from years ago. I haven't worn one of his shirts since I was a little girl. I used to wear them to bed every night. It's strangely comforting to put one on right now, like he is wrapping me in a tight hug. Lucas is just hanging up the phone when I walk outside, pulling my hair into a sloppy bun on top of my head.

“Ashlin didn't answer, but your brother is gonna meet us there. He asked if you were okay, and I said you’re better now. I hope that's okay. If you want, I can call him back and have him swing by here to get you. I mean, if you would rather be with him right now. I would understand.”

“No. That's fine, Lucas. Thank you,” I say, climbing back into his Cadillac.

He starts the engine and pulls out of the drive. His tires peel out, screeching into the air when he shifts into drive. My hand reaches for his, needing the comfort more than ever right now. I finally understand what Lucas meant earlier about not wasting time and forgiving. I wish I had told her last night that I did . . . forgive her, I mean. I wish I had taken the time to wrap my arms around her and let her know how much I still loved her. I just hope I still have a chance to do so.

I can't begin to describe the emotions flowing through me on our drive to the hospital or during the twenty minutes we wait in the stark white waiting room for Aaron to show up or the doctor to come out and let us know what is going on. They range from all-encompassing guilt to anger, to grief, then back to guilt.

I'm mad at myself for not being there for her when she needed me. On a normal day, I would have been at class, and I wouldn't have known anything out of the way was happening. It doesn't change the fact that I'm hurting. I think most of it has to do with the fact that I have no idea what the hell is going on, and no one will tell me a damn thing. I'm about to the point that I start screaming and yelling and demanding answers of some kind, but more than likely, the people who rush out to quiet me down would be the ones working to save her life, and I would pull them away from that. I can't do that. I already feel like I failed her by not being there for her today.

I think back over last night's conversation and the biggest revelation of the evening. After I had come back around from my minor fainting spell, she and my brother questioned me on why I thought she had kidnapped us. I explained what I remembered from that timeframe thirteen years ago and why I thought that. Apparently, I was wrong on so many levels about her taking us unlawfully to begin with, even if later, she did take just me. She didn't disagree with that, and I skimmed over the rest of my time with her, not wanting to dive back into all that right then, but I couldn't understand one thing, and I asked her about it.

“If you didn't kidnap us and you didn't press charges, then why did you end up in prison?” I asked her and Aaron. I could tell she didn't really want to get into detail about what sent her away, but I asked, and she wouldn't keep it from me.

“I went to prison for money laundering. Do you know what that is?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think so. Isn't that when you take money from someone you're working for and spend it?” I asked, giving my chopped up version of what I thought I recalled money laundering being.

“Yes. That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.”

“I don't understand.” And I didn't. All these years, I thought she was in prison for taking us. None of this made any sense to me.

“Do you remember that Christmas in South Carolina? The one when your dad came and got Aaron?” She asks, and I nod my head that yes, I remember. It's one of the strongest memories I have of my time with her. The day my brother went home and I was left behind. The day Santa found us.

“I had been skimming money off the books for a few months before that, but I was always careful to keep it hidden. It wasn't hard being the manager of the park. The owner pretty much left me alone as long as I made sure the renters paid their rent and he got his check deposited every month, but then Christmas came and I wanted it to be the best one you had ever had. It was the first one you guys had spent with just me, and I wanted it to be perfect, so I took more money, and in my rush, I got sloppy. I'm not saying it would have been okay if I hadn't gotten caught, just that's how I got caught. A few weeks after you flew home, I got pulled over on the way home from work, and when the cop ran my license, a warrant popped up. I was hauled away to jail and extradited to South Carolina for court.”

“Oh. Wow. So all those years spent in prison just for us to have presents, and then we left most of them behind when we left.”

“Yeah, I know. I hate that, but it is what it is. Life sucks sometimes, ya know. I like to believe it was time for us to move on, and as far as my going to prison, well, I don't really regret it. I know you remember how messed up I was. I had lost myself to dope, and I wasn't ever going to get myself back. Prison forced me to get clean. I can't ever regret that. God works in mysterious ways, Charlee. Don't ever forget that.”

I couldn’t deny what she was saying. Any of it. Truth be told, if she hadn't been sent to prison, she would probably be dead. Shit, she might be now, anyway. I jump when Aaron touches my shoulder, pulling me back out of my own thoughts. He has a bag slung over his shoulder and my purse in his left hand. His right hand has a cup holder with three venti Starbucks cups in it. I stand, taking my purse from him and thanking him for taking the time to go by and get it. I open it up and see he remembered my charger and my favorite book.

I pull the book out, dragging out an envelope with it. It's one of Mom's letters to me. The most recent one, with the drawing of a wolf across the back. I shove it back inside. Seeing it reminds me of the annoying, stuck up bitch I was just a few short weeks ago, solely focused on myself and how much I hurt. I'm amazed how much of a difference I see in myself. Oftentimes, I think our own perception of ourselves is the hardest to adjust to, but I could see the changes. I was happier, more open and bright.