Page 11 of Everything In Between

EIGHT

hayes

“Dude, get your head out of your phone.” Beckett’s voice echoes through the locker room right before a towel snaps and sends a sting across the back of my neck.

“What the fuck?” I shoot back at him, glowering as he gives me a shit-eating grin.

Sunday is our game against the Detroit Blue Devils. At this point, I’ve done everything in my power to make sure we come out ahead. The team has worked tirelessly to memorize the plays and study the defense so we know what we’re up against. Only time will tell if we take home the win.

Beckett points to the phone in my hand as if that’s explanation enough. “Who are you even texting?”

“No one,” I say way too quickly. Yeah, so I’ve been texting Jersey practically nonstop . . . what’s the big deal?

“You’re never on your phone. Now, suddenly, your nose is buried in it.” Beckett narrows his eyes suspiciously at me, and then, before I can take a breath, he’s lunging at me, and snatches the phone right out of my hands.

“Hey! Beckett, cut it out,” I growl. He evades me as I reach for my phone again. A few of the other guys have paused their conversations, now giving us their full attention. They’re used to some level of shenanigans between me and Beckett, but even I can admit this is excessive.

“Well, well,” my supposed best friend says, looking at my phone screen. “Who do we have here? Jersey? Is that a code name or something?”

“Beckett,” I warn, but the fucker doesn’t listen.

“Are you talking about Jersey Matthews?” Xaden chimes in. “She’s like the world’s biggest pop star right now. Every time I turn on the radio, it’s one of her songs playing.”

I stand stone still as Beckett processes that information. Quentin turns around and joins the conversation, shock on his face as he easily reads my reaction. “You’re shitting me. Jersey Matthews?”

“It’s no big deal,” I say quickly, swiping my phone back from him. As those words hit my tongue, they leave the bitter taste of a bald-faced lie. “We’ve been talking here and there.”

“Riight,” Beckett drawls. “Which is why you haven’t been seen apart from your phone for days now. Talking, my ass.”

“Beckett,” I say my friend’s name again, hoping he’ll pick up on the hint that I’m not interested in playing these games. There’s too much shit on my mind right now to find any humor in his teasing.

Beckett holds up his hands in mock surrender.

He still has that sideways smirk on his face, telling me he’s up to no good.

“Hey, don’t be mad at me. I think it’s great.

Be careful, though. I heard her breakup with her last boyfriend was pretty messy.

You don’t have time to get caught up in anything like that this season.

But maybe hooking up with the world’s most famous pop star will do you some good, give you a chance to unwind a bit. ”

“I don’t need to unwind,” I bristle.

He gives me a look that says, really?

I roll my eyes and don’t respond.

Whatever is blooming between Jersey and me feels too delicate, too precious.

I don’t want Beckett to simply chalk it up to me needing an outlet.

And I especially can’t risk the idea that I’m only pursuing her for one thing getting back to her.

I’m man enough to recognize the privilege it is for her to welcome me into her thoughts and share her troubles and worries with me.

After we started talking, some online investigating revealed that Jersey ended a long-term relationship about six months ago, and not exactly on amicable terms if the gossip headlines were anything to go by.

The tabloids and the headlines can only portray one narrative of the story, which is so rarely the truth.

I’d like to ask her about it and get her side of the story, but to do that, she has to open up that conversation herself.

We’re not even close to where I could outright ask her to spill the dirty details of her breakup.

While I may be interested in knowing her past, it doesn’t change what I know about her in the present. I’m confident she’d be open to answer any questions I have, eventually, but I want to wait for the right moment. I don’t want to ambush her with my curiosity when she’s barely been in my world.

This version of her that she’s sharing with me now is all that matters. Everything else can wait. While I haven’t figured out what we’re dealing with, I know that it’s more than a measly hook up.

Hell. I haven’t even seen her in person since the VMAs.

We’ve been texting nonstop since the beginning of the week, but that’s the extent of it.

With every little layer she reveals, I find myself falling into a full-blown crush on Jersey Matthews, instinctively reaching for my phone whenever I hear it go off, hoping it’s her.

I appreciate her willingness to take a chance on me.

The fact that she opened up to me right away was encouraging, and I hope her trust and vulnerability are something she’ll continue to share with me.

And right on time, a message from Jersey zips across my screen.

Jersey

I’m in the mood for something sweet.

I nearly groan. I know she’s talking about getting herself some Oreos and peanut butter—her favorite snack I’ve recently learned. Her timing with that message couldn’t have been more inconvenient.

Beckett stands behind me, no doubt reading over my shoulder. This fact is confirmed when he snickers to himself.

I set my jaw and walk over to my locker, typing out a response as I go. Fuck Beckett and his stupid games. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. He may be my best friend, but right now, Jersey is all mine.

Hayes

Me too

Jersey

Anything in particular?

My mouth goes dry with her innuendo, and I laugh huskily. Our text messages have been getting flirtier, and I like this playful side of her.

Hayes

Depends on who’s asking.

Jersey

Oh, just some girl who can’t seem to get you off her mind.

Hayes

Well, in that case…

I’m dying to have you all to myself.

Jersey

Same here.

I can’t help but wonder if she’d be this flirty and playful in person, or if this is a persona she portrays through the safety of the phone.

I have so much to learn about her and so many things I want to ask her.

I love this lighthearted side, but I don’t want to scare her off.

So instead of taking things further, I play it safe.

Hayes

How’d recording go today?

Jersey

About as you’d expect. I got into another fight with Cal, but thankfully, not as brutal as the last one. He wants to go in a different direction on the song that is more “mainstream” than I think the song warrants.

Hayes

I’m sorry. I’m sure it will still be a great song. Everything you put out is amazing.

Jersey

Oh, stop it. It’s mediocre at best. I have an incredibly loyal fanbase who boosts everything to the top 100 as soon as it goes live.

I shake my head. I appreciate her modesty, but she’s one of the most famous artists in the world. And, given that I now know she only puts out what her label expects of her, I can’t help but wonder how unstoppable she’d be if they set her loose.

Jersey

How was your day? Are you ready for the game on Sunday?

Hayes

As ready as I’ll ever be. You going to tune in?

Jersey

I wouldn’t miss it, MVP. I’ve been studying up on my football terms all week using my homemade flash cards. Remind me again, how many home runs do you need to win?

I laugh out loud. She’s funny. Now that we’re all finished for the day, I pack the rest of my stuff into my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

I sense Beckett watching me. I turn to him with a questioning glance.

He’s leaning against his locker with his large arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face.

“What?” I ask him. Even I can recognize I sound tired of his shenanigans.

He pauses a second and then pushes off so he’s standing up straight. “Nothing. I’m happy for you. Haven’t seen you this happy in”—he shakes his head—“a long time.”

I exhale, letting my shoulders fall. Beckett was around to remember my last serious relationship back in college.

He saw first-hand the range of emotions I went through, the joy at the height of the relationship and the devastation it brought when it ended.

Since then, I’ve been hesitant to engage in anything more serious than a few casual dates.

“There’s really nothing to be happy for yet. ”

Something glints in his eye, but I can’t place it.

“Keep telling yourself that. I’ve known you a long time, brother.

I’ve never seen you get bent out of shape over a girl you’ve only been texting.

” He chuckles and claps me on the shoulder when I try to protest. “I’m just saying I get the feeling that this one is different.

Special. I was only giving you a hard time. You know I want the best for you.”

I roll my neck. “Yeah, I do. Same for you.”

“Promise me you won’t let this get in the way of football. You know I love you, and I want you to be happy, but I want another Super Bowl ring just as much as the other guys on the team do.”

Something tightens in my chest at his comment—excitement? Dread? Acid reflux?

I’m not sure, but regardless, I nod and then head out of the locker room toward the team parking lot, waving goodbye to Xaden and Quentin as they head toward their cars.

As soon as I’m settled in my vehicle, I pull out my phone, staring at the last text Jersey sent me, unable to keep the amusement off my face.

Home runs.

Hayes

However many it takes to make it to the World Cup.

Jersey

Full disclosure: I had to look that up. But you’re funny

Hayes

You started it.

On my drive home, I listen to a talk show on the radio make their predictions for Sunday’s prime-time game—Detroit at Milwaukee. Who will take home the win?