Page 19

CHAPTER 19

anna

A week later, the Blacksburg wind whipped, making me hunker down into my sweatshirt. Was I wearing my own school’s merch at a live game where two other teams were facing off? Yes. I couldn’t wear Knoxville colors. Not with the way things were between Blue and me right then. But I also wasn’t wearing the hideous Virginia Tech sweatshirt Ashton tried to loan me either.

“They shouldn’t have let Blue play already.” Holden scowled at the Virginia Tech football field below. “He wasn’t ready.”

“Nah.” Ashton’s head bobbed, a smug smirk on his lips, decked out in maroon and orange. “This is fantastic.” His hand punched toward the scoreboard. 14-0. Hokies. And we were only in the first quarter. Ashton jangled his VT cowbell and screamed, “Put Blue back in! Let’s watch him fumble again!”

Silas sat to my right, hunched over, staring at the concrete beneath our feet. “Anna,” he groaned. “You broke Blue.”

“That is ridiculous,” I scoffed. “I agree with Holden. He just wasn’t ready.”

We were on the Hokie side of the stadium. Front row again, thanks to Ford. Even though he wasn’t here, he was trying to make up for my UK heartache. Especially after the press conference. He felt responsible.

Ashton wouldn’t allow us to sit behind Knoxville, even though we’d come to watch Blue. Which was fine. I would’ve been heckled over there anyway. I could hear them heckling me all the way over here.

“Kick her out! Kick her out!! CruAnna-de-Vil! Kick her out!” a group of college-aged guys shouted.

A group of women kept yelling, “Backwoods Barbie, go back to where you came from!”

“How do they know what happened with me and Blue?” I muttered. “How do they even know I’m here?” The stadium was massive.

“The interwebs know everything.” Holden tapped on his phone and turned the volume up, aiming the speaker at me.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an announcer thundered in a dramatic, dejected voice. “Blue Bishop is nothing without that necklace. Anna Dupree is the Delilah to his Samson. The Yoko to his Ono.”

“Pfft.” My lips flapped. “It should be the Yoko Ono to his John Lennon.” I scowled at Ash. “What kind of dumb school did you attend where they can’t even get their metaphors right?”

He pursed his lips. “It’s an agriculture school.”

I threw my hands up. “You got an English Lit degree here.”

Ashton frowned. “Aren’t you planning to come here for vet school? Next year?”

“This is a professional commentator,” Holden said. “Not a VT commentator.”

“Well, he needs to go back to school,” I huffed.

“Somebody find Anna Dupree and get that necklace back!” Another announcer’s voice bellowed through Holden’s phone.

I reached under my shirt collar and pulled the chain out, studying it. Could the necklace really be the reason Blue was playing so poorly?

“You’re wearing it?” Holden’s hands gestured like his mind was blown. “Are you a monster? You may as well cut his head off, put it on a stick, and carry it through town declaring victory.”

“You better put that thing away,” Silas said, still slumped in his seat. “If somebody sees it, it might be your head on a stick.”

I gazed across the field to the Knoxville bench where Blue sat, much like Silas, slumped down, head hung over his knees.

“Why are you wearing it?” Holden gestured at the field. “Go give it to him.”

I jammed it back into my shirt. “I asked him if he wanted it and he wouldn’t take it back.”

Silas sat up, rolling his eyes. “It’s not the necklace. It’s you. You need to fix this.”

“This could be it, folks,” the announcer boomed through Holden’s phone. “Blue Bishop might be done with football after all.”

Silas’s head cocked. “Are you really going to sit here, watching him crash and burn, when you could do something about it?”

I threw my hands up. “What do you want me to do? I called and texted and he finally told me to stop. He doesn’t want to hear from me anymore.”

“Hashtag karma,” Ash snorted.

The wind gusted. I pushed my hair out of my face. “Wow. Worst uncle ever.”

“You love him, Anna.” Holden smirked.

“Facts,” Ashton agreed.

I slouched down in my seat, legs stretched in front of me. “You’re not Gen Z. Stop using our slang.”

Ashton shrugged. “Just speaking your language, darlin’.”

“You need to make him listen,” Silas said. “All the things you should’ve said…say them.”

I chewed my lip, considering their words.

“What would your mom say?” Ashton asked.

Silas rubbed his hands over his thighs. “I already know this because she said them to me in the letter she left for me. The one I had to read at the end of our ninety days together. I can show it to you when you get home. But it’s memorized, right here.” He tapped his temple. “Fight. Fight with everything you’ve got. Fight for Blue. But fight for yourself, too. Whatever it takes. All to pieces.” His head bobbed. “Only she said Lemon, not Blue. Obviously.”

I closed my eyes and let myself breathe, taking in Momma’s words. It sounded like her. Exactly. And I knew it’s what she’d say if she were here. She would’ve liked Blue. A lot. Not the part where he went out with Lacy the day after we broke up. And definitely not the press conference. But as a whole. Momma knew that life was full of mistakes. But she also said the most beautiful things could come from those mistakes. Like me. Yeah. She would’ve liked him. At that thought a gentle peace swirled in my chest, like she was right there, sitting next to me, letting me know it was true. I put a hand to my heart trying to capture it forever.

“Anna?” Silas squeezed my knee.

I nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Anna Dupree!” A man shouted. I looked up to see Shane barreling toward me, veins bulging in his neck, fury in his expression.

In unison, all three of my uncles stood, blocking his way.

“She needs to give him that necklace back,” Shane hissed through gritted teeth.

Silas took a step forward. “We’re working on it, Shane.” His voice was calm, but commanding. “I think we can all agree that we want Blue to succeed here, okay?”

“Well, everyone but me.” Ashton shrugged. “It’s nothing personal.” He shook the cowbell in Shane’s face. “Go Hokies!”

Holden huffed out a laugh. “Seriously?”

Shane’s nostrils flared and his chest kept heaving. “She can give it to me. I’ll make sure he gets it.”

Silas put his hands on his hips. “No. She needs to give it to him herself.”

Shane jerked, surprised. “Good. Fine. I’ll take her to him.”

I opened my mouth to protest but Holden beat me to it. “She’s not going anywhere with you. But if you want to send somebody with some sense up here, we’ll consider it.” Holden twirled his finger in the air. “So just go ahead and turn yourself back around. Go on. Git.”

A giggle escaped my throat because I was pretty sure my momma was here and Holden had just channeled Sophie Dupree. That sounded exactly like her.

Shane huffed, turned, and stormed off.

Seven minutes later, Daisy Foxhorn walked up.

I glared. “I don’t want to go with her either.” She probably started the Backwoods Barbie hashtag. She’d certainly gotten Lacy to the press conference.

Holden put a hand on my back, his brow raised. “I’ll come with you?”

“Yeah. Okay.” But I shot Daisy another death ray letting her know not to say a word.

Like Smoky Mountain Stadium, the underbelly of Lane Stadium was monstrous. We zigged and we zagged until I almost thought we’d entered an alternate dimension. Like in a bad dream when you’re stuck and can’t find your way out of a building. As we went, I unhooked the chain and tucked it in my fist.

“Are we lost?” Holden finally asked.

Daisy glowered over her shoulder at us. “No.”

As if his question had opened a magic portal, she gestured at a door. I looked at it, unsure what that meant. “Go,” she said, irritated. “He’s inside.”

“I’ll wait right here,” Holden said with a gentle smile.

I turned the handle with my shaking hands. The room was huge. A massive VT logo, fully backlit, stared down at me from the ceiling. The carpet was plush, the lockers mahogany. Padded massage chairs lined a wall.

But no Blue. No anyone. I almost turned, certain Daisy had led me to the wrong room. But then I caught movement from behind a large pillar. Just a knee poking out. I came around the column to see him sitting on a maroon-colored leather bench, head in his hands.

“Blue.” I dropped to my knees in front of him.

His head came up and he looked at me, worn out. Beat down. Battle weary. And not just from the game. I pushed up and lifted the chain around his neck.

He leaned away. “No. I don’t want it.”

“Yes. You do.” I tried again.

This time he placed his hands on my arms holding me back. “No.” His voice shook.

I set the necklace on the bench, shoved his legs apart, and scooted myself between them. Then I slid my hands around his neck and placed a firm kiss on his lips.

“Stop,” he rasped. “Just stop.”

Fight. Fight with everything you’ve got. All to pieces.

“No. I’m not gonna stop.” I shoved my hands into his hair and forced his mouth to meet mine.

He was still for a few seconds and then a groan broke free from his chest. He reached down, scooping me up onto his lap, kissing me like he’d been thirsting to death and I was the water that would save his life. “Please, stop,” he groaned, but he kept kissing me, desperate, broken, and raw. His hands were on my back, cupping my neck, at my waist. Frantic. I tilted into him, four years of backed-up hormones hitting my bloodstream like a bursting dam.

“I love you, Blue,” I said when his mouth moved along my jaw. “I didn’t watch your games because it hurt too much.” He placed a kiss on the hinge. “And I did think about you. Every single day.”

“I know you’re just saying this so I’ll play better.” His lips were on my throat. “Because they told you to. But I don’t care.”

I trapped his face in my hands and made him look at me. “No. That is not what’s happening. Do you understand me?”

He stared at me, lips puffy, his expression a tornado of hope, doubt, excitement, and insecurity. “Don’t lie to me, Anna.”

I tipped my forehead against his, my fingers swirling through the back of his hair. “Do you want to know why I came to your game in Knoxville?”

“You came to see Ford sing.” His tone was bitter.

“No. I didn’t even know he was singing until I got there.” I ran a finger over that dimple. “I came to see you . Jonah made me.”

He rested the back of his head against the pillar, disbelief in his expression. “What?”

“Yeah. Because I was completely incapable of having a relationship. I wouldn’t let him or his friends watch any of your games. If you were on the TV, it had to be off. And I still couldn’t tell him I loved him even after we’d been dating a year.” Blue’s knee bounced under me as I went on. “He said I needed to lay eyes on you and figure myself out.”

“And you figured yourself out?” He still looked skeptical but now there was happiness and hope mixed in.

“Yeah.” My eyes widened. “I figured out that you have the power to crush my heart, same as always.”

His eyes went soft. “Anna. I won’t crush you ever again. I promise.” He pulled me back in, kissing me harder, more intensely. His fingers slid up into my hair, holding me so tight. His tongue traced my top lip, causing heat to erupt in my stomach, my chest, and my face. I never felt this intensity with Jonah. Not anywhere close.

But then he paused, his brows in a tight pucker. “You’re not crappin’ me? This is for real?”

“No. I am not crapping you.” I laughed. “You ruined me, Blue. I’ve never loved anyone like I loved you.”

His gaze turned intense. “I’ve never loved anyone like I loved you . Like I still love you.” He pressed another kiss to my lips. “Wait. Does this mean what I think it means? We’re going to be together? Be a couple again?”

“Yes. If that’s what you want.”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “I want .”

I felt my cheeks flush as I ran my fingertips over his stubbled chin. “I’m not gonna lie. I’m terrified. We didn’t do so well at long distance before. And now you’ve got press surrounding you all the time. And jersey chasers. And crazy ex-girlfriends. If you want this to work it’s going to take serious commitment. If we mess this up again, I’m afraid then it won’t be repairable.”

He held my face in his hands, fierce determination in his eyes. “If it breaks, it won’t be because of me.”

“Blue?” A man’s voice came from the doorway on the other side of the pillar. “We kind of need you back on the field.”

Blue’s eyes danced. “Coming!”

I started to stand but he tightened his arms around me and kissed me again like the guy had never interrupted us. This time slow, gentle, and like we had all the time in the world. His hands were splayed against my back. His kisses were careful and delicate, slow and methodical, taking his time. As if our love was fragile and too much intensity might break it again.

“I missed you,” I said. “All these years.”

“Me too. So much.”

“Blue!” The guy yelled. “We’re getting our butts handed to us!”

He groaned. “I gotta go.” But I gripped his face, my mouth not wanting to leave his. He smiled. “We can pick this up when the game is over, okay?”

I rested my forehead against his, trying to catch my breath. “Yeah. Okay.” A tiny hiccup-sigh bubbled in my throat. “Let’s go. I wanna watch my boyfriend play some football.” I extricated myself from his lap, hopped up, and offered him a hand.

He stood and smoothed my hair, which was probably completely out of control. “You haven’t said that since high school, huh?” He took in my sweatshirt, pure joy on his face. “Hold up. You can’t wear that. You’re the Knoxville quarterback’s girlfriend.” I followed him to his locker where he pulled out a UK hoodie. As I pulled my JRC sweatshirt off he laughed. “Looks like we’re back to exchanging sweatshirts.”

I wiggled my brows, shoving my arms in the sleeves. “Figuratively and literally.”

Once I was properly attired and my sweatshirt was in his locker, he led me to the hall. I let myself hunker down in the sweatshirt for a second, breathing in the smell. Sandalwood and sea air, just like always. I let out a sigh.

When we stepped out, he looked over at Holden and said, “What’s up?” Like this kind of thing happened every day and like we’d been together all these years.

“Hey, man. Good to see you again.”

“Oh wait.” I hurried back into the room and grabbed the necklace from the bench. When I came back into the hall I gave it to Blue. “Here.” Then I waved and turned to go.

But Blue grabbed me around the waist. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I pointed down the hall. “Back to my seat.”

He grinned. “No, you’re coming with me.” Then he looked at Holden. “Wanna watch from the sidelines?”

“Um, yes.” Holden chuckled. Then he whispered in my ear. “What is happening?”

I beamed. “Good stuff. Lots of good stuff.”

Blue reached for my hand and I slipped my palm into his. When we stepped into the sunshine and the UK crowd saw us together, they let out a cheer. Blue radiated pride. “They love you already.”

“Pretty sure they just love you and I’m part of the package now.”

“I’ll take it.” He dropped my hand to go and held out the necklace. “Hang onto that for me?”

“Don’t you need it?”

His dimple appeared, making a cocoon of butterflies erupt in my stomach. “It was just a placeholder for you. But it can’t beat the real thing.” Then he planted a quick kiss on my lips right there in front of everyone. The fans went insane.

I rested my face against his neck, just like I had at the Knoxville game. “Get your cute butt on that field and get this attention off me. And no more concussions. Do you hear me?”

He chuckled next to my ear. “What the girlfriend wants, the girlfriend gets.” Then he stepped away, turned, and jogged to his coaches. They slapped his helmet into his hands and in thirty seconds, he was back on that field, passing, sprinting, throwing that ball like a stealth missile, like the first quarter of the game hadn’t been a disaster at all. Like the concussion and amnesia were a distant memory.

I stood on the sideline, snuggled in his sweatshirt that smelled like him, cheering and grinning. “I could get used to this,” I said to Holden.

He smiled. “I already am.”