Page 34 of Racking Up Penalties
She squeezes my hand, a gesture so small yet filled with empathy. “That must be tough, feeling like you’re constantly trying to live up to someone else’s dream.”
Her insight shocks me. I nod, grateful for the understanding in her voice, for the absence of pity in her touch.
“Sometimes I wonder what it would be like,” I continue, “to just play for the love of the game, not for a career or to make him proud.”
“We often forget to ask ourselves what we truly desire,” she replies thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time you start playing for Ethan Matthews.”
“Maybe,” I echo, the word tasting like possibility on my tongue.
We walk on, hand in hand, and learn more about each other. I try to pretend I’m not making mental notes on everything for later.
The park bench is a welcome respite, our laughter fading into the tranquil hum of the evening. Wooden slats worn smooth by countless others seeking solace frame our own escape from the world. I slide onto the cool surface, leaving just enough space for Tessa, yet she nestles in close, her body heat seeping into the gap between us.
“Look at them,” she breathes out in awe, tilting her head back to invite the canopy of stars into her gaze.
I follow her lead, my eyes tracing the constellations that scatter across the night sky.
“Orion’s Belt,” I point out, the words unnecessary but the need to connect with her overpowering. My finger draws an invisible line from one luminary to the next, her eyes tracking the motion.
“Beautiful,” she murmurs. “How do you know?”
My chest tightens as Tessa shifts, her head coming to rest on my shoulder. “When I was younger, my mom used to point them out to me. That was before my dad turned her into a shell of who she once was. Her parents taught her.”
The scent of her shampoo, floral and sweet, fills my senses. Her soft exhale tickles my neck, sending shivers down my spine despite the warmth of her proximity. There’s a palpable energy emanating from her, like static before a storm, inviting yet unpredictable.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers softly. “Are your grandparents still around?”
“No.”
I don’t do vulnerability. I don’t let people in, not really. But here, under the stars, with Tessa’s weight against me, everything feels different. There’s a comfort in her presence that screams of belonging, of home. A place I’ve never really had.
“Well, you have me.”
I decide right then and there that this girl is mine. Not Liam’s and not this Tristan dude’s. Which means, I’m going to have to prove to her that I’m the guy she needs.
“Thank you for tonight,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the symphony of crickets and rustling leaves.
“Thank you for beating me at bowling,” I tease, the cocky smirk on my face betraying the depth of emotion swirling within.
Her chuckle vibrates through me. “Someone had to keep your ego in check.”
“Mission accomplished,” I admit, the laughter dying down as I soak in this moment of peace, of connection.
My fingers brush against her cheek, tentative. She’s real, warm, and vibrant beneath my touch.
“Can I?” My voice is huskier than I expect, a whisper lost in the night.
Tessa nods, a subtle tilt of her head that draws me closer. Our lips meet and sparks fly. Her mouth is soft against mine, a tentative dance that quickly grows bolder. There’s no rush, just the sweet unraveling of whatever walls we’ve built.
The world fades, leaving only the warmth of her lips and the steady rhythm of our heartbeats. The kiss deepens. Tessa’s mouth is soft yet insistent, and when she parts her lips, I deepen the kiss, exploring the new terrain with a hunger I didn’t know I had.
My tongue brushes against hers and she softly moans, so quiet I almost don’t hear her.
When we finally break apart, gasping for air, there’s a stunned silence. Our foreheads rest together.
“Wow,” she breathes, and I can only nod, equally dazed.
“Wow,” I echo, knowing this is just the beginning.
