Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Pass To Win Book 1) (28 page)

“Do you have a specific fruit in mind or can it be chef’s choice?” I tease.

“Chef’s choice of fruit is fine,” she says. “My nana used to make the most awesome blueberry pancakes in the world but she would only make them on special occasions.”

“I will do my best to live up to your nana’s pancakes, and if this isn’t a special occasion I don’t know what is.”

I worry for a second that I don’t have any pancake mix after I promised her a stocked kitchen. But I do have the ingredients to make the pancakes from scratch, so that’s what I do.

“You’re my hero,” Aria says.

“Don’t say that until you’ve tasted them,” I reply.

We sit in front of heaping plates of food, and Aria cleans her plate like a hungry teenager after a big game. I feel so good sitting here with her eating breakfast like we are a couple, that I am starting to get nervous.

Aria may not be feeling lonely and vulnerable right now, but that will all change once she gets tired of being poor and serving drinks for a living. She would be a fool not to go home. What makes this all so difficult is that I don’t want her to leave.

We finish our coffee and I suggest a walk. I need some fresh air to clear my head. We’ve spent one night together and I’m already freaking out.

As we walk down the street, we hold hands and enjoy the sunshine. Everyone who walks by us smiles and I even hear one older lady say “young love,” when she nods and passes us.

I wish I could tell Aria everything I’m feeling but the words won’t come out. Instead, I listen to her talk about how she is going to look for a better job and how she wants to cook for me because now I’ve taken her out to eat and made her breakfast. She chatters away and has no idea that every word she says is making me more and more nervous.

Sure, I got my GED but I don’t have anything to turn to yet besides dancing. So while I feel better about myself and what I can do I don’t know how to actually change my situation. Aria, on the other hand, is full of ideas on what she can do in the future and how she can get out of the club.

I do my best not to let these insecurities ruin our time together and I think I do a good job of showing her a great day in the city. I even surprise myself when I ask her to stay the night. The fact is, I want her here when I get back from work tonight. I don’t want to go to an after-hours club or to hang out at the bar with Theresa serving me free drinks. I don’t even want to see what hot women are out on the prowl for a man to spend the night with. I want to come home tonight and have dinner with Aria and I don’t care what she cooks; I will eat it and like it because she made it for us.

Aria happily agrees to come back tonight.

“I need to go to Theresa’s and get some clean clothes and pick up a bottle of wine for dinner.”

“I’ll see you tonight.” I give her a quick kiss and head out into the night.

I dance better than I have in some time tonight. All the pressures of getting my diploma and sorting things out with Aria are gone. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. It’s not until after I’ve collected my tips for the night and the guys ask me if I’m going out to find some ready pussy that a new set of worries comes crashing down on me.

“I’m going home tonight,” I tell them.

“Temptation’s going home early? Guess there is a first time for everything. Next thing you know pigs will be flying in the sky,” Cole says.

I’m too preoccupied with the creeping fear that Aria isn’t going to be waiting for me in my apartment to be bothered by their ribbing.

“I’m just giving you guys a fighting chance with the girls for once,” I say. I head out of the club before they can ask me any more questions about why I’m not going out.

I get home and take a deep breath before opening the door. Not only am I not used to having a woman in my apartment cooking for me, I am not used to thinking I’m not good enough and that I’m going to be left before things even get started.

Screw it
, I tell myself. I am better than the life I have and it’s time to be more. I open the door and no smells of dinner in the oven or noises from the kitchen greet me. I am instead stopped dead in my tracks. Aria is sitting on the couch with a woman who has to be her mother. She looks just like Aria, only older and worn down by years of bitterness.

Aria looks like she has been crying and I am torn by my desire to comfort her and to hold back any show of emotion until I can figure out just what the hell is going on. Aria looks up when I walk in and shrinks back into the couch away from me.

“Ryan,” she says. “This is my mother, Jacqueline. She came because my father is sick.”

I don’t say anything in response so she continues on. “She wants me to go home and see him.”

She looks at me with those big blue eyes and I want to scream,
“Don’t go!”

Instead I rush over to her and embrace her tightly. I tell her, “I’m sorry about your father. Is there anything I can do? Can I come with you?”

Aria looks up at me and starts to talk, but her mother interjects. “We have only two tickets for the flight, and we need to leave immediately,” she tells us in a stern voice.

I stand there, unsure of what to do. “I’ll call and get a flight too!” I tell her.

Her mother gives me the once over and walks to the door. “Come, Aria,” she says. “There is nothing for you here.”

Aria follows blindly but then stops and looks at me beseechingly when she gets to the door. I turn away from her, not able to watch her leave or ask her to stay.

“Have a safe flight,” I say, while I turn around, upset at the situation. I let the door close behind her without another word.

C
hapter
17

Aria

I
recline
the seat back and try to watch a movie. But even first class and a romantic comedy can’t ease the tension between us. My mother and I have barely spoken since we left for the airport. And now that we are on the flight, she is sitting next to me and pretending to be as engrossed in a fashion magazine as I am in the movie.

I don’t understand how and why things got this bad with my parents. I knew they were going to be upset when I called off the engagement and then decided to stay in New York, but I never thought it would cause them to give me such a harsh ultimatum and cut me out of their lives.

I try to forget how much they hurt me, but it’s easier said than done. I try not to think about the possibility that my father may die and our last conversation on the phone ended with my saying I didn’t care if the choices I made meant losing my family.

I wish Ryan was here with me. He seemed so distant when I left. I’m not sure he believed me when I said I would be back. My mother treating him like a servant she had to tolerate didn’t help matters.

“Aria, stop that,” my mother said. She pulls my hand away from my hair and shakes her head in exasperation. She has been trying to break me of my nervous habits for as long as I can remember.

“Leave your hair alone and stop moping about that boy. He is not worth the frown lines.”

I don’t take the bait and turn back to the movie. I hate how much control my mom has over me. I won’t get in an argument with her about Ryan. Especially, when I don’t even know where I stand with him. Losing my virginity to him and discovering a whole new part of myself made me forget about anything more serious than just the pleasure of being with him.

We fall back into silence and I close my eyes and think about Ryan and what he does to my body. I want to feel his touch so badly that I ache inside. I imagine him licking me from my neck all the way down to the cleft between my legs and into my hot damp center. I wriggle in my plane seat trying to get comfortable. I am getting aroused but I can’t stop myself from reliving our time together both in the bedroom and out of it. When I get to the part where he goes between my legs and licks and swirls with his tongue on my most inner and tender parts I think I may actually come here in my plane seat. I can feel him bringing me so close to an earth shattering climax and then pulling back. Teasing me with his tongue. Not letting me reach release until I beg him for it.

The stewardess announces that we are about to land. I open my eyes, flushed from the memory of Ryan, and am immediately brought back down to earth when I see my mother staring at me.

“I knew we never should have let you go to school in New York. Look what it’s done to you.”

“Sorry,” I mutter. But I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for. Is it for going to school in New York, or falling for Ryan?

“Are we going straight to the hospital?” I ask.

“Your father is at home.” Is this a good thing or a bad thing? How sick is he? My stomach is queasy from worry and guilt. I haven’t been able to eat all day. At least we are going to the house and I will not have to go to the hospital. He must be getting better, I tell myself.

I expected to find my father sick in bed but I am floored by what I find in my parent’s home. My father is standing in the backyard, hitting golf balls into the lake behind the house.

I turn to my mother for answers but she is expertly avoiding any eye contact. I stride through the house and throw open the French doors leading to the back yard to confront my father.

“Aria, I see your mother was successful in getting you to come to your senses.”

He didn’t even look up from his putter when he said this. I am so angry that I could spit. How dare he? How dare she? First, it was Xavier and Ella that betrayed me, and now my parents have deceived me. If the four most important people in my life could break my trust so easily, how can I ever have faith in anyone again? Can I trust Ryan not to be as hurtful and deceptive as the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally and always be there for me?

“What is going on?” I yell at my father. “I came here because mom said you were SO sick, if I didn’t return I may miss seeing you one last time before you die.”

“Your mother may have exaggerated my condition. We are concerned about you, Aria, and needed to get you home. Xavier has told us that he is distressed over your welfare. He expressed to us that you are most likely under the influence of drugs, and a group of bad influences are leading you astray.”

“Xavier,” I stutter. “The man who thought a three-way between me, him, and Ella was the perfect way to spend a Sunday morning? You’re going to trust a man like that over your own daughter?”

“Aria, we raised you better than to speak to us this way.”

“You’re absolutely right dad. You raised me better than to settle for anything less than the best and you raised me better than to look the other way when someone treats me disrespectfully. That includes you. I won’t stand for it one minute longer.”

I don’t give him time to respond, but instead turn on my heel and walk to my childhood bedroom.

My bedroom is exactly the same as it was when I left for college. In the past when I returned home, it was comforting to find my room unchanged. Now, it just feels like a slap in the face. My parents obviously have no concept of the fact that I’m an adult, or they wouldn’t show such contempt for me.

I need to talk to my mom. There was a time when we were close and shared almost everything. But how can I trust her? She let me believe that my father was close to death in order to convince me to come home. She treated Ryan like something she scraped off her shoe. And what hurts the most is that even though she knows Xavier is a cheater, she chooses to believe him over me, and actually believes I should spend my life with him.

I wipe the tears away and wash my face before going downstairs to find my mom. My eyes are puffy and red and it’s obvious I’ve been crying but I don’t care. My mom
should
see how much she’s hurt me. I find her in the kitchen, baking. This is something she does to calm herself when she is upset. Whenever she and my father have problems, or when my brother would start a fight with them, she would bake up a storm. At one point, when things were particularly bad between them, the house smelled like apple pie and cinnamon rolls for a month.

I think my mom likes baking so much because it requires precision and attention. She likes everything to be perfect, including me. She probably feels that I have let her down as much as I have been let down by her.

“Mom, we need to talk about what’s going on. I can’t believe you lied to me about dad being sick.”

“We had no choice, Aria. You’ve been acting crazy. I have been so worried about you, living in New York and doing who knows what.”

“I’m working and making real friends,” I say, thinking of the difference between my friendship with Theresa and the toxic and manipulative relationship that I had with Ella.

“Friends? You mean like that ill-spoken man I found you with in New York?”

“He was not ill-spoken, mom,” I tell her.

“Your friend was stubborn, that’s what. And he was trying to interfere in matters that don’t concern him,” she said.

Is Ryan a friend? I would have said yes a day ago but now I’m not so sure. He hasn’t called to ask about me or my father or even to say he misses me. Theresa and I have been texting nonstop since all of this started. She keeps asking me if I’m alright. I have no idea what to answer. Yes, I’m fine in that I am safe and with my family. Am I alright when it comes to whom I can trust and what I should do? Not even close. All I know is that I want to be self-sufficient, and I am head over heels in love with Ryan. Sadly, I know that my feelings for him may not be reciprocated and being self-sufficient is easier said than done.

“I’m trying to rebuild my life, mom. I lost everything in one day: my home, my fiancé, my best friend, and my family. So I would appreciate it if you stop talking like that about the only people that stepped up to love and support me after you and dad abandoned me.”

“Abandoned you? Don’t be so melodramatic. You threw away everything we provided for you because Xavier slipped up once. You are the one that failed and abandoned us.”

I stand there, silent, and staring at my mother for what feels like ages. All I had wanted was to talk to my mom, and now all I want is to get out of this house and never come back. I realize now what my brother must have figured out about our parents years ago; they are so worried about their reputation that they have lost the ability to love their children for who they are. I wish things could be different, but I am not willing to throw away what I want to make them happy.