Page 13 of Everything In Between

NINE

jersey

“Let’s fucking go!” I jump up from my couch and shout at my massive TV as Hayes throws the ball to one of the players right in the points area—or end zone, as I’m learning.

This makes his fourth touchdown of the game, and we’re only in the second quarter.

As the time has ticked down on the screen, Hayes’s drive has seemed to amp up even more on the field.

Bethany laughs from her position on my couch. I spin around to find her and Kelsey watching me in amusement. I place my hands on my hips, but I can’t fight off the smile.

“What?”

Bethany chuckles. “Nothing. I never knew you were into football.”

“Well—” I say, brushing a few stray hairs out of my face. “It’s kind of a new thing.”

Bethany and Kelsey share a look. “Apparently,” Bethany says.

Kelsey points at the TV. “That Hayes Vogt is an impressive player. Is he the one you were talking with at the VMAs?”

“He is,” I coyly agree, leaving it at that.

I sit back down on my couch, resting against the plush cushions, and reach for my drink on the table. I’m sticking with a classic tonight, the old vodka tonic.

“Bethany says you’ve been talking to him some,” Kelsey pries. When I turn to her, she’s wearing a soft smile on her face, hinting that she already knows what’s up, but she wants to hear it from my perspective.

“A little,” I lie. There have been more texts shared between me and Hayes this last week than there were with my ex throughout the entire last year of our relationship.

“And you like him?” Bethany asks.

My cheeks heat and I take another sip of my drink. How do I even begin to answer this? How can I when Hayes and I have only ever been face-to-face once before? I sent him a selfie tonight, but that hardly counts. He probably won’t even see it until after the game.

“I think I do,” I admit, to both my friends and myself.

“Just be careful, Jersey,” Kelsey says. “I remember how brokenhearted you were when it didn’t work out with Corey. I’m always reading tabloids about athletes breaking hearts. You and him have the potential to be a PR disaster.”

“I think this one is different, Kelsey,” I say, trusting my words wholeheartedly. “I think he’s different. I can’t explain it, but everything in me is telling me to run toward him, not away from him.”

“Sounds like puppy love,” she says softly.

I know she’s trying to be gentle with me.

Both Kelsey and Bethany were there, helping me through the hardest days of my life when Corey and I ended.

Both of them were there to reassure me when I felt like I wasn’t good enough or worthy of a future in the industry.

Even as Kelsey voices her concerns, I can’t help but think she’s wrong.

On the TV, the Majestics leave the field for halftime.

When the camera zeros in on Hayes, my belly flip-flops.

He’s got his helmet off as the team goes ahead of him down the tunnel to their locker room.

His blond hair is sweaty at the top and whatever he painted underneath his eyes is beginning to melt down his cheeks.

It looks like black watercolor paint as it drips down his face and mixes with the perspiration on his skin.

He has a few smudges trailing from his cheek to his ear from where he must have wiped his face at some point.

He’s a mess, but I love it.

My body heats and I fight the desire to know what it would feel like to have him all sweaty like that, but in a different setting, preferably in a comfy bed.

And without the uniform and pads in our way.

I clear my throat and swallow thickly, ignoring the way my mouth has gone dry at the direction of my thoughts.

The TV cuts to a commercial, breaking the spell.

“Anyone need a refill?” I ask, reaching for my drink and Bethany’s, which is also empty.

Kelsey declines and stays on the couch, scrolling through her phone as I head into the kitchen to work on the drinks. Bethany follows me and leans against the kitchen island as I refill our cups with vodka and mixers.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask her.

“Like what?” she questions back, her lips quirking to the side.

“Like you’re already planning my wedding.” I stick my tongue out.

“Can you blame me?” Bethany sticks her tongue out, too. “Even Kelsey is catching onto whatever you two have brewing between you.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Hayes and I haven’t even met up officially yet. We’re still only talking. I mean, we’ve texted and called a few times, but that’s the extent of it.”

“What are you waiting for, Jersey? You were just saying you feel like everything is pushing you toward him. I’m sure all it would take would be for you to say you want to see him and he’ll be booking the flights.

If the way he sought you out at the VMAs is any indication, that man knows what he wants, and that’s you. ”

“I’m not sure we’re at that point yet,” I explain, feeling the lack of confidence lurking in the back of my mind.

“Okay, I hear you.” Bethany nods. “Maybe start smaller. Have you two FaceTimed yet?”

I shake my head. “Do you think that would be the next step? It’s been a while since I’ve been in this stage of a relationship. I sometimes feel like I’m going in blind.”

“Follow your heart,” Bethany says and then cringes at the cliché. “I know, I know. But really, though. I think Hayes has the capacity to help you rebuild everything that Corey destroyed in his wake. You might have to take a few leaps of faith. Get out of your comfort zone.”

“You’re probably right. I’ll try.” In the living room, I hear the TV switch back to the game and I tilt my head in that direction. Bethany follows me back into the living room and we settle in to watch the next half.

Any other train of thought derails as Hayes walks out to the offensive line. His stride is so confident, so sure, I can’t help but get excited for this next play. With his broad shoulders, he points at a few players on the line as he shouts things to his other teammates.

Then he takes a step back, situating himself where he needs to be, and crouches into position. The ball is snapped, and he’s bouncing around on the field, pivoting this way and that, searching for an opening.

I clutch my hands tightly together as I watch the screen, scanning the field myself, waiting for one of Hayes’s teammates to open themselves up to receive the pass.

But it doesn’t come.

The Detroit defense work their way around the players protecting Hayes and they tackle him to the ground with a sickening crunch.

“Oh!” one of the girls screams.

“And he’s sacked. Blue Devils have taken down Hayes Vogt for the first time this game. Vogt is one of the least sacked quarterbacks this season, so you know they’ll be applauding Rife for that one after the game.”

I frown as the announcers commentate on the events which recently took place.

“Come on, get up,” I mutter, eyes still glued to the screen as the players climb off Hayes.

He stays on the ground for a moment and then pops up, seemingly unfazed by the whole thing.

He shakes his arms out, throws the ball to the referee, and then calls the team together in a huddle before taking the line again.

I let out a long breath I didn’t know I was holding and reach for my drink again, ignoring the pointed stares of Kelsey and Bethany.

“He’s fine,” I announce, though I guess I didn’t have to.

Bethany and Kelsey now share another knowing glance, but they gratefully don’t say a thing.

Hayes evaded any further violent sacks throughout the rest of the game and managed a few more clean passes, which resulted in two more touchdowns to bring home the win for the Majestics.

I sit and watch the reporters question the players and coaches after the game, waiting for Hayes to appear. When he does, my chest aches with anticipation in hearing him speak. My lips part and I lean my elbows on my knees, eyes wide as I trace every little detail of his handsome face on my screen.

Throughout the flurry of excitement on the field, the reporter asks him a question.

I’m sure he gives a well-practiced, PR-approved answer, but honestly, I’m not listening.

Instead, I’m taking the chance to study his face, to watch how his amber eyes fixate on the reporter, giving her his full attention despite the chaos happening around them.

I’m listening to the delicious timbre of his voice and the gruffness of his laugh and noting that just like the very first time I heard him speak, goosebumps appear on my forearms. Something about his deep voice itches that exact perfect spot in my brain. It’s like music to my ears.

Far too quickly, the reporter is thanking him for his time and he’s disappearing from the camera to shake hands with some of his teammates and opponents.

“Gotta say,” Kelsey starts. “You picked a looker. That man is somethin’ else.”

My cheeks flame and my jaw falls open. “Kelsey!”

“What? It’s not like he doesn’t know he’s fine. And those pants.” She makes the sign of the cross over herself and then fans her neck.

I cover my face with my hands and groan.

This is only the beginning of the relentless teasing that always comes with the start of a new relationship.

I had been saved from the heckling during the five-year-span of my relationship with Corey, but now that I’m in the midst of something new, it’s clearly open season.

“Our ride is downstairs,” Bethany says after a while. “Kelsey, are you ready to go?”

Kelsey nods and turns to me. “Thanks for the invite. I don’t usually like football, but I definitely had a great time watching you swoon over your boyfriend.”

My cheeks heat and I roll my eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend, and I was not swooning.”

Kelsey nudges my shoulder. “Whatever you’ve got to tell yourself. You’re still planning to be at my family’s gala next weekend, right? I’ll see you there?”

I nod. A few years back, Kelsey asked me to go to her family’s annual gala to raise money for the impoverished and homeless, and I’ve made sure to have it on my calendar every year since.

This year I donated a few tickets and backstage passes to my upcoming shows to be auctioned off. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You’re the best, Jersey.” Kelsey gives me a hug.

“Thanks for having us over! Have fun with that quarterback of yours. He’s one hell of a catch.

” Bethany waves at me by the door. I stand up and walk over with them to see them out.

As they head down the hallway from my condo, I realize I have a love-hate relationship with the two most important women in my life.

I love them to death, and I hate that they know me so damn well.

Once everything is cleaned up, I go in search of my phone, finding a message from Hayes waiting for me.

Hayes

What did you think? Thanks for that selfie, btw. You’re stunning.

I flush and do a little happy dance to myself.

Wonder what Cal would think of that choreography.

Jersey

That was amazing. You were meant to be a quarterback. You make it look so easy!

Hayes

Thank you. Nothing but a whole lot of work behind the scenes and an incredible team helping me pull it all off.

Jersey

It’s so impressive how you can read the players on the field and find exactly the right place to throw the ball. Even when you got tackled, you made it look like it was nothing. Did it hurt?

Hayes

Well… it didn’t feel great. I’ll leave it at that. Comes with the territory. But that’s why there are a lot of rules in place to protect the quarterback. Even still, we take heavy hits sometimes.

Jersey

Have you ever been hurt before?

Hayes

Yeah, plenty of times. It’s not a football game if I’m not walking away without some aches or injuries. I have a full recovery schedule lined up throughout the week. Massages, chiropractors, ice-baths, red light therapy. You name it.

Jersey

What kind of injuries have you had?

Hayes

A lot of sprained ribs, a twisted ankle or two. Tweaked shoulder. All nuisances more than anything. Usually means I have to focus more on rehab and recovery that week. By offseason, my body is ready for some rest.

I nibble on my lower lip, not loving the way Hayes is describing the physical toll the game takes on his body.

How does he do this every week? Touring is physical for me too, and my training is regimented so I can have enough strength to dance up on stage for hours at a time, but I’m not getting two-hundred pounds thrown full speed at me at any given moment.

I can’t imagine what that feels like for him.

Jersey

I loved watching you play. I never wanted it to end, even when they kept running into you. Congratulations on the win. I knew you could do it.

Hayes

There was something so satisfying knowing you were watching. I feel like I put on the performance of my life trying to impress you.

Jersey

Well, color me impressed, #18. Really.

He shoots me a hand hearts emoji and I smile like a dork down at my screen. I swear if anyone could see me now, they’d suspect I was some high school girl in love rather than a twenty-eight-year-old woman. I am ecstatic, high on the thrill of talking with such an enigmatic man.

Nibbling on my thumbnail, I decide to be brave and take the leap of faith Bethany mentioned.

Jersey

Do you want to FaceTime?

Hayes wastes no time, sending me a response quickly.

Hayes

Do I ever! Let me get home and I’ll call you.

My stomach twists in a blend of nerves and excitement. Bethany’s words from last week echo in my mind from earlier.

See where it goes. What have you got to lose?

I can do that.

The next hour seems to tick by at a snail’s pace, but finally my phone vibrates with his call. My finger hovers over the accept button. I take a deep breath, count down from three, and press my thumb to the screen.

Here goes nothing.