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Authors: Ophelia London

Tags: #category, #short romance, #football, #love, #enemies to lovers, #reunited lovers, #series, #ophelia london, #glee, #playing at love, #Contemporary, #competition, #Romance, #Music, #entangled, #choir, #baby on the doorstep, #perfect kisses, #bliss, #high school football

Playing at Love (11 page)

BOOK: Playing at Love
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“Oh.” His dark hair was a little messy in back, probably from lying on the ground under the car or something. Tess noticed the Saturday-morning stubble on his chin. It looked good on him. Very good. One T-shirt sleeve was boyishly pushed up over his shoulder. It was probably pretty hot outside by now. Yeah, pretty hot…

“So?” Jack said, startling Tess. “Where do the glasses go?”

“Are your hands clean?” she asked.

He displayed them. “As a whistle.”

“Hmm.” Tess narrowed her eyes and reached out to examine them. She took his right hand in both of hers and flipped it over a few times. Jack chuckled. After checking out his surprisingly clean nails, she flipped his hand over again. He pulled on it, thinking she was finished, but Tess wasn’t ready to let go. When Jack took a step closer, his hand still in hers, she felt her heart bang in her chest.

Slowly and gently, with the pads of her fingers, she traced his palm, circling the middle. The lines were deep and long. She traced them lightly with her index finger, trailing back to linger on the inside of his wrist.

When she heard Jack’s ragged inhale, she lifted her eyes.

“Tess,” he whispered, looking down at her. “I can’t stop thinking about the other night.”

Tess inhaled her own uneven breath. “Neither can I.”

He took another step, cutting the distance between them to mere inches, close enough that Tess could smell the motor oil, the hand soap, and that distinctive scent that could only be described as Jack.

“I think we need to do something about it.”

“So do I,” Tess agreed easily. She felt her stomach quiver when Jack slid his hand up her arm to the inside of her elbow.

“Any suggestions?”

“Well.” She was so breathless, she could barely get the word out. “We probably should…
talk
…about it. Right?”

Jack pulled back a slow smile. “When?”

As she smoothed her lips together, she noticed Jack’s eyes drop to her mouth. “Tonight,” she said, watching him watch her, feeling her heart hammering. “I’ve got something, but I can cancel it.”

Jack lifted his gaze to her eyes. “I’ve got something, too,” he said. “But so can I.”

They both inhaled and stepped away from each other when they heard the back door close.

“How about I give you a call later?” Jack suggested in a casual manner. “Let’s program your number into my phone.” He reached into his back pocket but then frowned. “My cell is out on the porch with my keys,”

“I’ll go get it.” Tess pointed to the cabinet behind him. “The glasses go there.”

Screw the rules
, she thought as she took a quick glance at the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her.
Jack is a good guy. And we’re adults. If we want to get together to
talk
…we should be allowed.

“Be right back,” she said, returning his smile.


Jack was whistling as he lined the shelf with the clean glasses. Sure, it wasn’t an ideal situation, but this woman was different. It was complicated, but something inside told him that she was worth it. Hell, he’d realized that about her when he was fifteen. Tess was special, and she made him feel things that he hadn’t felt in years.

He was still whistling when he strolled outside. Charlie was leaning against the Impala. His arms were folded and he was glaring at Jack. At least there was no tire iron around.

“What did you do to her?” Charlie said.

“What?” Jack asked, confused. “Nothing.” He turned to look where Tess’s car had been parked. It wasn’t there now. “Where is she?”

Charlie tossed a wrench into the toolbox. “She’s gone,” he said. “She looked at something on your phone, handed it to me, then told me to tell you ‘Forget it.’ I cleaned up her language, by the way. And then she left.”

Jack scratched his head and gazed up the street where she would’ve driven off, completely flabbergasted.

“So I’ll ask you again.” Charlie took a step forward. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, man. I swear.” Jack held up his hands. “Five minutes ago, we were—” He cut himself off, not wanting to reveal how he’d almost pressed Tess against the pantry door and devoured her. Something told Jack that would not go over well with her Army brother.

Despite their earlier conversation, Charlie didn’t actually seem like an overly protective brother. He must’ve thought that Tess was truly upset about something. But what?

Jack rubbed his chin. “Look, nothing happened. We were planning a…a
date
, actually. I have no idea why she took off like that.”

Charlie shrugged after a thoughtful moment. “Well, she was pissed about something,” he said. “Shake it off, man; chicks be cray-cray.”

Jack tried to laugh it off, but something felt very wrong. When he picked up his phone, he sifted through the contact list, hoping she had added her information. But she hadn’t. There was a new text message, however, and it wasn’t from Tess.

Chapter Thirteen

“Here’s to your triumph!” Mac said, lifting her glass. It twinkled under the restaurant’s track lighting.

Tess laughed, already feeling tipsy from pure joy. “It wasn’t
my
triumph,” she corrected. “It was Penny’s, the entire school’s. Long live Franklin High’s music program!”

“From your mouth to Walker’s ear,” Mac said, clinking her drink against Tess’s.

After emptying her glass, Tess set it on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “Wasn’t Penny amazing last night?” she said. “When she accidentally stumbled into the mike at first, I thought she was going to lose it like last week. It was a close call, but I swear, the girl is really getting it together; grace under pressure.” She shook her head. “I certainly wasn’t like that when I was seventeen.”

“Neither of us was,” Mac agreed.

Tess sipped her drink. “She wants to transfer into NYU’s musical theater program.”

“Oh, that program is awesome.” Mac popped a pretzel in her mouth. “She’d probably do great.”

“Yeah,” Tess said, fingering her coaster.
Now if I can just figure out a way to get her some financial aid
, she said to herself.

“Rick’s write-up was pretty sweet, don’t you think?” Mac added, pointing at the newspaper she’d brought along for the occasion. “If the other team’s quarterback hadn’t hurt his arm in the first quarter, our guys wouldn’t have run away with the win, and the whole story would’ve been about the halftime show.”

“Oh?” Tess said, looked off to the side. “Did the football team win? I guess I skipped over that part of the article.” Though she was doing her best to keep her own eyes averted, Tess could feel Mac looking at her.

“Yeah,” Mac said slowly. “It was a pretty exciting game. It’s been years since Franklin scored over forty. Didn’t you stay for the whole thing?”

Tess shrugged noncommittally. “I’m trying to physically stay away from that scene as much as I can,” she answered. “Besides the parents of the choir kids, no one wants to see me at the games.” She sighed. “The school is becoming more and more polarized. The whole town is. I was stopped at the grocery store the other day by some irate guy who doesn’t even have a kid at the school. He about took my head off, saying I was single-handedly destroying Franklin’s greatest tradition.” She shook her head, banishing the memory from her mind. “I’m beginning to wonder if it was such a good idea to get the newspaper involved—”

“It’s not
Rick’s
fault!” Mac blurted.

Tess eyed her friend. “You’re defending him,” she said, then leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “Did he ever call you after you tracked him down to give him your card that day at the paper?”

Mac frowned, resting her chin in her hand. “No. Maybe he’s playing hard to get.”

“Or maybe he’s trying to keep things professional with you.”

This seemed to perk Mac up. “You think so?”

“Stranger things have happened.” Tess laughed.

Mac thought for a moment. “Yeah, I mean, he’s just doing his job, right?”

“Right.” Tess nodded. “The whole situation is getting pretty ugly, though.” She stared out the window toward the dark street; headlights reflected off the wet concrete. “And poor Jack, there were actual picketers blocking the locker room entrance at the game last night.” She turned to Mac. “Can you believe it?”

“Poor Jack?” Mac repeated slowly. “Since when did he become poor Jack?”

“Oh.” Tess started fingering the rim of her glass. “Umm.”

As her lifelong best friend, Mac knew all about what happened with Jack fifteen years ago. But their recent history, well, Tess had played most of that close to the vest.

“Umm,” she repeated, twirling a tiny pink drink umbrella between her fingers. “Since never. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Mackenzie leaned back in her chair. Tess didn’t like the way she was being studied by her very perceptive friend. “What’s going on between you two?” Mac asked. “You told me about what happened at the park. But…” She folded her arms. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”

Tess dropped her chin, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “Nothing’s going on,” she finally said. “Well, I mean, nothing’s going on anymore.”

Before Mac could begin the Chinese water torture to get Tess to spill her guts, Tess told her everything: about that night at the pool, that morning in her mother’s kitchen, right up to when Tess went out to get Jack’s cell phone.

“I didn’t mean to read it,” Tess said. “But when I tapped the screen to get to the contact page on his phone, I must’ve touched something because a new text message just popped up.”

“What did it say?” Mac asked, leaning forward, her hands flat on the tabletop.

Tess took a long drink first. “It said, ‘I love you,’ and it was signed ‘xxxx, Jenna.’”

“Jenna? Who the devil is Jenna?”

Tess lifted her shoulders. “I have no idea. And it was sent five minutes earlier, so it wasn’t like it was an old message.”

“What is Jack doing hitting on you where your mother makes pancakes if he has some skanky chick texting him in the middle of a Saturday? Well, you need to talk to him. You
have
to.” She made a fist and thrust it into the air. “For womankind everywhere!”

Tess sighed, feeling completely drained. “No women’s lib tonight, please? I’m breaking here.”

“Oh.” Mac lowered her hand. “You really like this guy.”

Tess nodded miserably.

“Well then, go for it.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Screw it.” Mac snapped her fingers in the air. “You like him; he likes you. I say go for it. And we don’t really know who the text is from, right? Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“It’s complicated, Mac.”

“What is?”

“Well, first of all, we’re pitted against each other at work; the whole town knows that. How would it look if it got out that Jack and I were together?”

“Yeah.” Mac nodded somberly. “I see what you mean. Whichever program got cut, those supporters would have a conniption.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” She took a drink. “It’s also hard for me to forget about the past.”

“I thought you said you forgave him for that.”

“I did.” Tess kneaded her fist into her forehead. “But he ran out on me once. Maybe that’s a habit he never broke. I couldn’t handle that again, not so soon after Sam.” Just saying the name of her ex made Tess feel queasy.

“So
soon
?” Mac sat up as tall as her tiny frame could. “It was two years ago. And that guy was an idiot. You promised me a year ago that you wouldn’t waste one more ounce of energy on him.”

“I know,” Tess said. “And I don’t. It’s not Sam, really; he’s just the most recent example. I’ve always had bad luck with men. I seem to pick the ones who feel the need to disappear. It’s hard to trust someone when you’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Mac reached out and put her hand over her friend’s, frowning sympathetically.

“I want to trust Jack, but I just can’t. Especially after knowing there’s another woman in the picture.”

“I’m telling you, babe,” Mac said, pushing the breadbasket toward her, “you could totally take her. Whoever she is. Have some carbs to build up your strength.”

Tess couldn’t help laughing. “Thanks.” She pushed back her hair. “Honestly, though, it was stupid for Jack and me to even be thinking about hooking up. ” She reached out and toyed with the saltshaker. “We might lose the music program, Mac,” Tess said, looking up at her friend. “I need to focus and stop obsessing over some guy. These kids deserve better than that.”


Jack fingered the whistle around his neck. Because of some minor insubordination, the team was running suicides up and down the field. That was what tended to happen after a big win: the boys would get cocky and mouthy, thinking they knew better than the entire coaching staff.

What surprised him the most was that it had come from Zack Williams, his quarterback. Sure, he’d played great in the game they’d won last Friday, but that was three days ago—the celebrating should be over. So for Williams to swagger onto the practice field today and not do what he was told was unacceptable. Williams was the leader of this team, and the QB needed to understand that everything he did on that field affected his teammates. Jack could’ve made Williams run the suicides alone, but he thought this was a more valuable lesson.

“All right!” Jack called out to them. “Bring it in.” Out of breath, the players returned to the center of the field. “Voyles, take the line. Special teams.” He pointed. “That corner.” He flipped a page on the clipboard he was holding and read for a few minutes. “Rivers!” Jack called, turning to the sideline where Andy Rivers was running in place. “Griffin needs a ball down at the five. Run one over there, will ya?”

“Sure, Coach,” Andy said. He picked up a football, held it in his hand for a few seconds, then set his posture like he was about to throw it.

“No, son,” Jack said. “Just run it, don’t—” But Jack didn’t finish. His eyes went wide as he watched the kid throw a perfect spiral fifty yards down the field. A stunned receiver caught it. Jack walked to Andy’s side. “You been holding out on me, Rivers?”

The kid looked confused, then anxious. “No, sir,” he said. “I was just…”

“You’ve got a good arm on you,” Jack said. He wished he’d paid more attention to Andy during tryouts, instead of just writing him off as not athletic enough. Maybe he could use the kid after all. “Tell ya what, why don’t you work with the offensive team today. Send some passes.”

“Really?”

Jack was trying very hard to keep his tough, rigid coach’s expression in place, but the way Andy’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning made him want to grin. “Go on, now,” he said. “Show me that move again.”

“Hi, Coach.” Jack turned around. Mackenzie, or Mac, Tess’s friend, was standing on the sidelines next to the water cooler. She was wearing a yellow dress and looked severely out of place.

“Mackenzie,” Jack said politely.

“Mac,” she corrected.

Jack couldn’t help smiling at that
. Duly noted: she prefers her nickname.
He looked at his watch. “Don’t you have a class?”

Mac waved a hand. “I put on a movie so they could sleep. Woody Allen.”

Jack wanted to laugh, but he wasn’t sure that was the correct response, so he just nodded.

“So,” Mac said a moment later, “how’s it going?”

“Fine.” Jack adjusted his hat and squinted up at the sun. “Can’t complain.”

Well, he could complain, of course. His team’s standing was 3-and-1—no erasing that loss—his quarterback was giving him grief, and he hadn’t talked to Tess in a week. Not properly, at least. He’d stopped by her office once, but she was meeting with some students. And later, he’d nearly run into her head-on in the hallway. She’d looked so shocked to see him that it seemed that she was about to burst into tears. Her broken expression had startled Jack so much that he’d stepped back, muttered, “Sorry, excuse me,” and let her pass. Why hadn’t he stopped her? Since her disappearing act at her parents’ house, he figured she needed space. And who was
he
to get upset about
her
disappearing?

“Can I help you with something?” Jack finally asked Mac. Normally, he might have told her he was busy with practice, but since half of his first string was running drills, he walked over to her.

“No, but I can help
you
.” Mac’s hands were planted on her hips. She looked small despite the probably four-inch heels she was wearing. “Look,” she said, “maybe this is none of my business, but you should know that Tess is my very best friend in the world. She’s honest and she’s trusting and…and she’ll do anything for someone she cares about.” She sealed her lips together as if still deciding whether to say any more. Jack waited. “She might not have the guts to tell you off, but I do.”

When a player went running by, she gazed out to the field, her expression turning stony. “All you football players are alike,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You think you’re God’s gift and can get away with anything.”

“These are kids,” Jack said, lowering his clipboard. “And honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about. If something is wrong with Tess—”

“She knows you’re seeing someone else,” Mac said, her tough expression breaking a little. “So just…keep away from her, okay? ’Cause I know people;
Italian
people.” She smoothed down her dress. “That’s all.”

Jack scratched his head, watching as she walked away, teetering up the stairs.

What was that?
he wondered, turning back to the playing field. Why would Tess think he was seeing someone? He dropped his chin and kicked his heel into the grass, digging a little divot. Didn’t Tess know that his current life was dedicated to this football team? Well, that and Jenna?

Jack slowly lifted his eyes, turning his head toward the school.

“Danny,” he said, handing off his clipboard, “take over. I have something to take care of.”


Tess was sitting at the piano in the middle of teaching her last class of the day when Jack came barging through her door.

“Hey. It’s Coach Marshall.” One of the tenors stood up and the whole back row looked like they were about to come out of their chairs.

Tess quickly got to her feet, ready to intervene if the choir decided to go all
Children of the Corn
on Jack. But that was unnecessary. Evidently the pranksters still preferred to stay incognito.

“Oh, hello,” Jack said to them. “Sorry to interrupt.” He sounded a little winded, as though he’d just been running. “I need to talk to you,” he said to Tess in a low voice, then nodded toward the door. When she didn’t move, he sighed. “Will you step into your office with me for a moment, please?”

Tess cleared her throat. “Aimee,” she said to a girl in the first row, “would you come to the piano and pick out the melody from the beginning?” She shot a quick glance at Jack, then back at her student. “I’ll be just a minute.”

Jack was holding open the door as Tess stepped into her private office at the back of the music room. It had been over a week since she’d been alone with him, and she was a little depressed to realize that none of her feelings had gone away. He looked so cute in his coaching getup that it made her want to whimper.

BOOK: Playing at Love
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