Page 9 of Replay
Jax’s smile grows wider and he clicks his tongue. “Are you scared to talk to me, Lawson? I had you pegged as pretty fearless. I saw the way you attacked on the ice last week.”
“You saw me play?” My voice hitches and I’m not sure if I’m embarrassed or impressed. I can’t remember the last time someone watched me play and rooted for me. Not since Hawke and that was in high school.
“I did.” His eyes roam over my face and then the weirdest thing happens, it's almost like he deflates some, his usual confident smile drops. “Look, I like talking to you. I thought maybe we might have some things in common besides hockey, so I was wondering if you want to grab dinner this weekend.”
My brain zones out and I watch his lips moving, hearing the words, but I’m stuck in a state of shock nonetheless. Jax just asked me out and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I should be excited, thrilled, maybe even a little shy or nervous. He's a good looking guy, and an incredible athlete. Plenty of girls would be dying for this opportunity, but all I feel is a twinge of disappointment. My silence must tip him off because he laughs almost nervously.
“Or maybe just grab a coffee if dinner is too much. No pressure, Lawson.”
The way he says it makes me feel even worse. Why can’t I accept a great guy's invitation? Why am I always looking over my shoulder, glancing at my phone and pining for the one guy I can’t have? And why do I feel guilty about wanting to get a coffee with Jax? Hawke left me. He chose this distance between us. He broke what we had with lies. We had one night together; there were no promises made. It's time I move on and let the past go for good. Closure.
“Coffee would be good,” I reply, my eyes darting anywhere but his gaze. I remind myself not to make things weird, and justbe chill. Jax is smiling, clearly finding some amusement in my nervousness.
“Great.” He backs up and grips his water bottle in front of his chest. “I think my time’s up. Your friend is coming back.”
Sure enough, I spot Riley over my shoulder, and she slows when she sees us. Panic flashes on her face and I can’t help but laugh. “We better get going. So Saturday?”
“It’s a date.” He smirks at me, walking away before I get a chance to argue that it's not. Not yet. I need more time.
“What did he want?” Riley meets up with me and we continue walking to the indoor track and women’s weight room.
“Ah, he asked me to get coffee,” I respond, my cheeks turning pink.
Riley’s brow rises. “Coffee? That's it?”
“Well, he said dinner but then I think I freaked him out with my almost panic attack, so he downgraded it to a coffee date.”
Riley cackles next to me and wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Baby steps, Em. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time to integrate you into the dating world.”
“What do you know about it?” I elbow her lightly and we laugh. “You’ve been locked down; you have no idea what the dating world is like.”
“True.” My best friend grins, getting the dopey in-love look all over her face. “I guess I’ll live vicariously through you. But you know what, Carter and Leif might have good tips or ideas from a guy's point of view.”
My shoulders shrug. “I guess. Although I’m not sure their advice would really be helpful, considering they both tend to play the field and Carter tends to collect stalkers.”
Riley and I are grinning by the time we reach our indoor training session, and she gently squeezes my arm. “No matter what, Emmarys, it's good just to put yourself out there. It’s Hawke’s loss. Someday he’ll realize how much he fumbled hisopportunity to have you. I want you to be happy, Sam does too. Baby steps with Jax. Just do what makes you happy.”
I am as determined as my best friend is for me to let the past go. It’s been enough time. I grieved, I got angry and I’ve accepted that my time with Hawke Sheppard is really over. I don’t regret giving him my heart or all my firsts, but I am ready to move on. I am ready to have the time of my life at college, playing the game I love and having new experiences. Wherever Hawke is, I hope he’s found peace. I hope he gets everything he wants in life and that his dreams come true. I am ready to start making mine come true too.
hawke, 20 years old
. . .
Water gathersand splashes over my head and down my body while I stand under the shower, rinsing off the sweat and dirt from yet another win for the season. The heat from the water feels good on my used and exhausted muscles. Faded bruises decorate my skin around my sides and ribs, some old and more of a greenish blue and others are new and deep purple. I barely feel the pain decorating my skin and wear the marks and scars as a reminder of how much closer I am to reaching my goal. Each game, each victory, is setting me up for the future I crave. I play through the rage that simmers under my skin, with a gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to be after Emmarys ripped it out. She told me her plans changed and she wouldn’t be in Texas. I had hoped our time together would convince her to change her mind, now that she knew the truth. But the fall came, classes started back up and there was no Emmarys Lawson registered here. Soon, games, practices, interviews and everything that comes with being a celebrity athlete became just moves on a chess board against my grandfather, the ultimate opponent.
It has been almost a year since I last saw the love of my life, and once again I walked away from her because of that man and his greed. Falcon had been right to call me home right away. The brunch that was organized was masked as a friendly visit but ended in my grandfather reminding everyone at the dining room table that he held all the cards. Our futures and in Emmarys’s family’s case, their lives, depend on him and his expectations of me. He didn’t have exact proof that I had snuck out of the state for twenty-four hours, but the threat was there, and almost being caught was still fresh. I pulled back again right after that, shutting down any link that could possibly connect me to my relationship with Emmarys. Riggs and Falcon both volunteered to reach out to her, but I shut them down, unsure of what my grandfather was capable of. He already knew too much. I was being watched and I felt it all the time. I didn’t even dare breathe her name anymore, and I threatened my best friend and my brother to forget about her too.
Once the water runs cold, I turn it off and get out, toweling off. Glancing at my reflection, a blank expression is staring back at me. On the outside, to everyone else, I look calm, bored, maybe a little cocky from another win under my belt. I am the same with my messy, dark blond hair, green eyes, and tan skin from days spent under the Texas sun. But it’s the wounds that aren’t visible, festering on the inside, that are the most painful. I am half-living. Every day is a lie, and I have a very small circle of people I trust who know what is at stake for me. I’m forced to wear the mask of Texas football’s rising star on the field and king of the campus. If only they knew how much I hate being shackled here, that none of my fellow students interest me, and that I am using the team to achieve my own personal goal. I could care less that we won another ‘Natty,’ only that it allowed me to have a private conversation with a different coach from a different university. It made me valuable to him.
Is it a shady move against my current team? Maybe. Do I give a fuck? No. Six more months and I am burning all of this to the ground. One more month and I will be out from under my grandfather’s control and a few million dollars richer, and I am using that to escape this place the first chance I can. I just have to wait for all the pieces to fall into place. I have to wait for my revenge against the man who shares my blood and makes my life miserable. My cell phone vibrates on the bathroom counter, pulling me out of my darkening thoughts. A text message from my best friend flashes on the screen.
Riggs: Are you coming tonight?
My hands fist on the counter and I let my head drop while I breathe deep, settling the anger that builds in my chest, before I do something stupid like punch the mirror again. Tonight, there’s another party on campus, and it would be suspicious if I’m not there. I have to go in order to fuel the dialogue that I love this life, that this win is the best thing to ever happen to me. I hate it. Glaring at my reflection, my fingers move over the screen and then hit send.
Me: I’ll be there.
I drop the phone and walk to my room, over to the dresser and grab a pair of briefs and dark jeans. I have thirty minutes to get my shit together before I leave the house and get to the party. My fingers brush over the little jar of salve on top of the dresser and take a scoop before rubbing it over my newest tattoo on my left rib cage. It’s almost healed, but it is too important to me not to have it looking the best amongst the other swirls of colors, designs and letters that canvas my skin. This one is a queen’s crown, twisted in vines and Marigold, the flowers forherbirth month. Her.
