Page 28 of One Little Chance
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.
Chapter 14
SATURDAYS IN SPRING 2023
For the next few weeks, I spent every Saturday morning watching Jordan coach pre-K soccer then we went for a run. These last few times without a make-out session in the middle of the park. Afterward, we’d get lunch together.
One time, he helped me grocery shop, and we bickered over my shopping list like an old married couple. On the third Saturday in April, Jordan sat in my living room after we made sandwiches and played his favorite Taylor Swift songs.
I shook my head at him. “I can’t believe you finally got into her after all the times I tried!”
“Come on.” He was lying across my couch, ankles crossed, head on a pillow. His eyes were closed as “Mine” blasted from my speakers.
Every inch of my body itched to curl up beside him.
“You didn’t leave me much to hold onto from you. She was one of those few things.”
My mouth went dry. I was curled up in an armchair parallel to the couch. I thought of my feet in his favorite kind of shoes. How I’d made his favorite pasta sometimes when I missed him. Or slip on the navy sweatshirt of his I never did mail back. “I get it.”
“I’d play it in the car, and sometimes, it was like you were sitting across from me again singing along with the melody.” He played with the hem of his shirt.
I was giving us the time to figure out whatever it was we were figuring out. Like pacing ourselves during a marathon so we didn’t burn out too quickly again. But as we sat across from each other with the afternoon light glimmering through my living room blinds, I wondered—what else was there left to figure out?
I still want him running beside me.
He still wants me in the passenger seat of his truck.
That evening, he was walking down my porch steps, and I hated him leaving, so I grabbed his hand, yanking him to a stop.
“Sophie?” he asked.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. He slid his arms around me tight like he didn’t want to let go. A breeze rustled my hair against my back. A couple of kids squealed in the park across the street, but it felt like it was just the two of us.
“Sophie,” he whispered against the top of my ear, sending goosebumps across my skin.
“I missed you then. I miss younow,” I said, muffled by his tee shirt.
“I thought I was going to miss you forever,” he said back. He scooped his hands around the back of my head and brought his face closer to mine as I lifted up onto my toes.
He kissed my chin softly. “I missed this chin,” he whispered. He kissed both cheeks. “The freckles on these cheeks.” He kissed my nose. “The way your nose scrunches when you think you’ve got me beat.” Then he brushed his lips against my forehead before whispering, “Everything. I missed every single thing about you.”
My mom’s car pulled up in front of my house, behind Jordan’s truck, waking us from our heady haze. I licked my lips, saying, “My mom’s here for Sunday supper.”
Mom and I had started a tradition of having Sunday dinners together—taking turns at our houses. Tonight was my night to host, but she would bring over the ingredients and teach me a new recipe from her and Nonna’s shared recipe collection. “You could join us?”
Jordan shook his head, hands still in my hair. “I’m leaving for a work trip tomorrow morning really early. I need to go pack. I won’t be back until Friday night. But I’ll be there Saturday morning for the last soccer meet for the spring.” He focused his eyes on mine. “Meet me after?”
Thursday night I got a fever after a bad cold had spread across my classroom. Friday morning, I stayed home from work, barely even leaving the bed for food, praying I would wake up on Saturday refreshed and ready to tell Jordan how I felt for him.
Saturday morning, the sun blazed in through my curtains making me squint in pain, my head throbbing. I kicked off the sheets, sweaty and feverish. Coughing fits and a runny nose kept waking me up throughout the night, but I felt too weak to get out of bed to find medicine.
I heard little kids shouting goodbye outside my window. I leaped out of bed, body aching, knowing I’d slept way later than I’d wanted. Today was a big deal to Jordan. We’d been text messaging the day before as he tried to decide if the kids would prefer he made them sprinkle cookies or chocolate chip to celebrate the last day.
