Hope for Us (Hope Series Book #3) (4 page)

He flipped on a light and colors assaulted my eyes. He’d decked the room out in equal parts Charger and FSU memorabilia.

“Wow.”

“Mom and I went a little overboard.”

“Your mom did this?” I surveyed the room. I thought she would have avoided having so much of me staring her in the face every day.

“We collected stuff over the years.”

“Well, I guess we need to get you some Arizona Cardinal stuff now.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t need this stuff anymore. You’re here now.” I smiled and hugged him.

God, I love this kid.

He did more for my ego than any touchdown ever did.

Jackson stayed upstairs with Jack for a while. They both came back down all red faced and smiling. Jack was wheezing a little, but he was so happy, I didn’t want to spoil his fun by reminding him to calm down. They were so cute together.

“Okay, J. Say goodbye to Jackson. It’s time for bed.”

“Oh, Mama.”

“Hey, man.” He put his arm around his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. “Listen to your mother. I have to go anyway.” 

“Have fun at camp.” Jack said as he let go and headed toward the stairs.

“Brush your teeth and I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Can I show Jack our backyard and our mountain before he goes?”

“No, Jack. You can show him next time.”

“Night, buddy.”

Jack turned back and gave Jackson one more hug.

“Jackson David Butler. Go to bed.”

“Okay, but one more thing.”

“No more things. Go.” I stomped and pointed up the stairs. My face remained firm, but I could feel Jackson trying not to laugh, which made me want to laugh.

When he made it up and out of earshot, Jackson and I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Shh,” I said and waved him out to the porch.

I stood on the porch and stretched my arm behind my back and took in a deep breath. I loved the cool nights in Arizona. It made the day’s heat bearable. 

“He is exactly the same.”

“I know, right.” I turned to Jackson. “He misses you.”

“I miss him, too.”

“You know, I don’t think I ever thanked you for making the effort. You know, to stay in his life. It really meant a lot to him. A lot to me.”

“Well, I take my godfather duties seriously.”

I smiled and sat down on a step. Jackson sat next to me.

“You don’t have to thank me, I’ve loved that kid all his life. Despite what happened between us, I wasn’t going to let that change. Thank you for letting me see him.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It would have been nice to see you during some of those time, too.”

“I know. At first it was just too hard, but then I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me. You were pretty angry at me.”

“Yeah, I was.”

I turned to face him to defend myself, but he looked so handsome and sweet sitting next to me on my porch, any anger I felt earlier disappeared. I studied the contours of his face, his strong jaw with a hint of stubble, his perfect proportioned nose and his lips. The side of his lip turned up at the corner and I wanted to lean in and kiss that spot. Did it feel the same? Taste the same? Would all the years we spent apart make being with him feel familiar like going home or would it be exciting, different, and new?

If he turns towards me, I'll find out for myself.

He didn't. 

I hid my disappointment. I didn't want him to leave. He started down the road of what happened in the past, but then dropped it like it was nothing. It was the past.

I used to fantasize that one day I would open my door and Jackson would be standing there. He would pull me in his arms and kiss me and remind me how good we were together, but that never happened.

“I better head to the hotel,” he said. He reached out and grabbed my leg and gave it a squeeze. If he thought it would be a neutral place to touch me, he was wrong. I froze. I reached for his hand, but he stood up and stretched. I rubbed the spot where he touched; let it seep into my nervous system as goose bumps broke out on my skin. He headed down the walkway and I studied his backside. It hit me, the difference between Jackson then and now. Now, Jackson was a grown man. 

Halfway down, he turned and smirked. He’d caught me checking him out. I tried to avert my eyes, but something about the way he stared at me held my gaze. He licked his lips, and I did the same, waiting for him to do something … anything to break the tension. I was ready to admit what had been building since he walked into that conference room. I blinked and smiled.

“God, Carrington.” He ran his hands through his hair. Something I watched him do thousands of times before and I realized he was the same Jackson in so many ways. I exhaled in relief.  “You look so beautiful.” He paused and started walking backward toward his car. “It’s good to see you. I’ll talk to you soon?”

He gave me a slight wave, turned, got in his car, and drove away.

I choked on my own spit, not realizing I hadn’t taken a breath in the last five minutes.

I made sure Jack got to bed okay and got ready for bed myself. I had missed calls from Kayla. I climbed into bed and called her back. She answered and spoke before the phone rang. 

“You’re still in love with him.”

“What?” I sat up in bed and looked at the phone.

“You are still in love with him.” She said emphasizing every other word. 

“Wait. What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t call me.”

“I’m sorry. Did you take a crazy pill today? Speak so I can understand.” 

“Jackson gets traded …”

“Yeah.”

“To the city where you currently live …”

“Kayla, speak in complete sentences.”

“If it was no big deal, you would have called me and told me, but the fact you purposely tried to avoid the topic like you always do means you’re still in love with Jackson Latre Mitchell.” She sang his name like it was a nursery rhyme.

“And this pleases you somehow.”

“Of course, because you and Jackson are finally back together again. No more stupid, lame, idiotic, stubborn, unromantic excuses allowed.”

“You see. That’s why I didn’t call you. I have dinner with Jackson and you have us picking out china patterns and ignoring the whole reason we didn’t end up together in the first place.”

“You had dinner with Jackson? You saw him already?”

Shit, I guess there was no way for her to know that already.

“Uh-huh," Kayla said.

I pinched the back of my hand, to stop myself from freaking out. A habit I picked up in the last few years. It was harmless. I checked with my therapist. She agreed.

“Uh-huh what?”

“You see him, you have dinner and don’t call me.” She sighed. “You’re still in-” 

“Kayla, stop saying that.” I groaned and slid further down in bed.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m hanging up. Bye.”

“Wait. No don’t hang up. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, I’ve told you before that our firm represents the Cardinals. Adam had me meet with him to go over his contract and make sure he signed it before he reported to training camp tomorrow.”

“Doesn’t Adam know about your history?”

“I don’t think so. He knows about Josh and me, but that’s about it.”

“How did he look?”

“You’ve seen him on TV.”

“That not the same. How did he look?”

“He looked good.”

“Good?” She sighed. “Jackson Latre Mitchell has never looked good. He is the finest man on the planet.”

“Oh, thanks.” Kayla’s husband Jamie spoke in the background.

“Present company excluded, sweetie.” She said and I heard a muffled exchange, but it didn’t sound like their usual so sweet it hurts type of banter. She returned to the phone. “So, how did you feel seeing him again?”

“I don’t know. Part of me felt angry and then it was nice and then he said something and I said something and we got angry all over again.”

“Yeah, well, point proven. If you didn’t still care, it would have been two old friends catching up.”

“At times it felt like that, too.” The thought of what it would be like to kiss him entered my head, and I had to shake my head back and forth to get it out.

“Do you think he still has feelings for you?”

“I don’t know, but he did tell me that I was beautiful.”

“That’s it. Weak line. ”

“No, he came over to see Jack and we were sitting on the porch and he got up to leave. He squeezed my leg and told me I was beautiful.” My heart melted.

“Oh, my God. Did you run and jump in his arms after that?”

“Well, no.”

“No? Well, how did you leave it?”

“He kind of paused and then said he would talk to me soon … and left.”

“He’ll talk to you soon. What does that mean?”

Jackson had a knack for saying the right things at the right time. He would make a statement or a gesture that, even seven years later, would make me warm and giddy. I could conjure up a wink or smile that he threw my way and I would be high for the rest of the day. After I told him that we shouldn’t see each other, he respected my wishes because he knew it was what I needed to do to stay sane.

But things were different now. We were different now. I had no clue what he thought anymore.

“Kayla, I don’t know. It means … he’ll talk to me soon. I mean, the man is reporting to training camp tomorrow. He is trying to win a job on a new team. He doesn’t need any distractions.  I can’t sit here and analyze every words of every sentence, I’m exhausted.” 

“Okay. Will you answer one question and I promise to leave it alone?”

“You won’t leave it alone. I know you, Kayla Griffin.”

“Okay, but I will try. I won’t bring it up again unless you bring it up first.”

“Okay, what’s your question?”

“When you saw him, what was the first emotion you felt?”

I laughed. Leave it to Kayla to get right down to the heart of the matter. I thought about it and one word kept flashing in my head in hot pink neon lights.

“Lust.”

Kayla giggled, which turned into a cackle. She came undone. “Good night, Kayla. Love you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Wait-”

I hung up before she could say another word.

Before turning in, I flipped on the television and answered some emails on my laptop.

I looked up when I realized they were talking about Jackson. A highlight reel of Jackson played in the background as the announcers discussed the trade.

“I think this is a good move for Arizona. They need something like a quarterback controversy to give them a spark,” one former player turned sportscaster said.

“The quarterback controversy isn’t going to help that defense. They were twentieth in the league last year in stopping the run.”

“That’s because all teams did was run on them in the third and fourth quarter. Teams didn’t have to outscore the Cardinals. They needed to score last with the Cardinals.”

“Well, all I know is the Arizona sports landscape got a boost on the attractiveness scale with the addition of Jackson Mitchell.” The token pretty blond girl on the set chimed in.

Bitch, keep your eyes off my man.

I shut off the television and laughed at myself as I drifted off to sleep.

I dreamed about getting in a catfight with some faceless blond and Jackson standing on the sideline smiling and nodding his head. I woke up in a cold seat and cursed the television, Jackson and Kayla for having the power of suggestions over my mind.

I wasn’t ready for my life to be all about Jackson Latre Mitchell.

I drove around for an hour trying to find the team hotel. I couldn’t remember the name and the battery on my phone died. I checked into a hotel close by, plugged in my phone and collapsed until my phone rang the next morning and woke me up.

“Jackson, thank God. Where the hell are you?” Michael asked.

“Good morning.” I groaned and sat up rubbing my eyes.

“You didn’t check in last night. Where are you?”

“My phone died, and I was too tired to wait for it to charge. I checked into a hotel.”

“Some intern said you went home with a girl from the law firm. You got back with Carrington already?” Michael shuffled some papers.

“No, I don’t work that fast.”

“Yeah, because there is no way you would be putting yourself through that again.”

“Put myself through what exactly?” I stared down at the phone.

“I’m just saying, considering what happened between the two of you.”

“How do you know what happened between the two of us? You weren’t there.”

“I know. You’re right. I’m sorry I brought it up. It won’t happen again.”

I rubbed my face and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

I dated a few girls over the last four years. When I say dated, I mean I slept with a few girls and allowed them to tell their friends that they were dating an NFL quarterback. No relationship lasted longer than a season at a time, a fair arrangement. I tried not to get involved with anyone at all. I made that mistake before and it bit me in the ass. The only reason I gave my last serious girlfriend in college a shot was because I thought Carrington and I had no hope, but then she showed up and I fucked it all up.

Over the last few years, I held out hope that somehow Carrington and I would end up together. I figured we would run into each other sometime and remember our initial attraction. Having a serious girlfriend would put a wrench in my fantasy.

Besides, I wasn’t attracted to easy women. I liked my woman complicated and difficult. Must be the reason why I still loved Carrington. I never met anyone more complicated than Carrington Olivia Butler.

“You want me to send someone to come get you?”

“Michael, I am more than capable of finding my way to practice now that my phone works.”

“Okay. I’ll let them know I found you and that you will report on time.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. This is the beginning of a new chapter for you. You’re going to do big things in Arizona. You excited?”

“I’m excited.”

“I can’t hear you. Are you excited?!”

“I’m excited!” I stood up and laughed. I loved my agent, but he watched Jerry Maguire one too many times. I showered, got dressed, and headed to a new chapter in my life. For the first time in my life, I had no clue what that new chapter would look like.

When I pulled in the parking lot of the practice facility, Cameron stood out front with his arms crossed.

“I hope she was good.”

I ignored him. Walked right by him like we had never met. People who over exaggerate their importance hated being ignored. He ran after me calling my name.

"Jackson, you can check in back here.”

“Listen, Cameron, I appreciate the hospitality. Don’t you have something else you need to be doing?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Well, son, go find something,” Coach Crawford’s booming voice echoed off the walls and the intern looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Jackson Mitchell, how the hell are you?”

“Hi, Coach.” I shook his hand firm and tried to match his strength as I stared over him. The sixty-eight-year-old man’s solid frame intimidated the most confident guy. Coach Crawford had been with the Cardinals for five years, after spending the majority of his coaching career at UCLA as an assistant and then the head coach for twelve years. As I watched him over the years, he had a reputation for being fair but tough. But you weren’t scared of him. I couldn’t wait to pick his football brain.

He reminded me of my coach in high school. He never smiled, but if you worked hard for him, he took care of you.

“Come on in and let’s have a chat.”

I followed him down a corridor into the full team meeting room. The room looked like a small movie theater, but with a row of tables in front of the recliner chairs.

“How you feeling?”

“I’m good, sir.”

“The leg bother you anymore?”

“Not even a little. It’s healed.”

“Good, good. I’m glad to hear it.” He sat down on one of the tables; I didn’t know whether to sit or bow. I stood. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to let you know, I was ready to draft you five years ago, even tried to trade up to get you, but it didn’t work out.”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, well, we ended up with Samson. Don’t get me wrong. He is a capable quarterback, but dammit, I don’t want a capable quarterback. I want someone who’s hungry. Someone who works hard, who leads, who wants to win.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, to be fair, I gave Samson this same speech yesterday. But it’s what you do with the information, what you show me out on that practice field, and in the preseason games that will determine who is going to lead this team at the beginning of the season. The job’s here for you to win or lose. I’m keeping an open mind.”

“Yes, sir. I appreciate that.”

“I won’t bullshit you, Jackson. These guys think they are Sampson’s guys, but honestly, they are looking for a leader. They are craving someone to lead them. You perform and don’t give them a reason to not follow you. We clear?”

“Yes Sir, I’ll do my best.” I wasn’t sure I sounded confident, but I wanted to make this guy proud.

“You go ahead and check in and Cameron will take you over to see the doctor. We scheduled a physical first thing and then I’ll see you at practice.”

“Okay, thanks, Coach.”

“No problem. Prove me right, son. That’s all I ask.” I smiled and Coach hit me in my stomach, dipped his head, and walked to the other side of the room and disappeared through a side door.

I followed the signs to check in. Got my information and made it through my physical, grabbed a quick bite to eat, and headed to the locker room to get ready for practice.

Cameron stood in the halls laughing with some other guys, but stopped when I passed. I headed into the locker room. Inside the doors, the equipment room was set off to one side. They stocked any and all type of practice gear an athlete would need. Back in San Diego, I would have stuffed stocked for me. It’s a whole new situation here. No one even asked. I wasn’t the first round draft pick any more. I was one of the guys vying for a job.

The guy behind the counter grabbed a nylon bag and handed it to me.

“Stuff you don’t want, put it back in the bag and drop it back here.” He pointed to a basket at the end of the counter.

I grabbed it and headed further into the locker room. The plush red carpet looked new with the Cardinals helmet embroidered in the center. The lockers lined the walls, the defense on one side and the offense on the other. I walked around and spotted my locker. I got chills seeing my jersey with the number nine and my name across the back. I touched the lettering, trying to hide my excitement. As a veteran, I had done this before, but I felt like a rookie all over again.

Besides a nod, and a
hey man
, no one spoke to me. I got it. My job was to take a position away from one of their teammates. Everyone knew it. I hoped their hesitance in welcoming me meant they thought I had a chance.

Sampson's job was mine.

Sampson and I came out together. San Diego had drafted me in the first round; Sampson went to Arizona somewhere in the third round.

We had been on the same track all throughout college. We only had the chance to play against each other once, and I won that match up. People assumed that either all football players liked each other or they hated each other. I had no reason to hate Sampson. We were different guys, different players, and different kinds of quarterbacks. His was part of the new breed of play action type quarterbacks. Good instincts, could pass, but could run better. Sometimes that got him into trouble.

I was what you call a traditional quarterback, at six-foot-four and two hundred ten pounds. I had a great arm, but I had something to show these guys. I had the legs, too. I worked in the off-season to get smaller and faster. You had to have that skill in this NFL.

I pulled my jersey over my head and heard my name.

“Jackson Mitchell.” I turned and found Sampson standing in the middle of the locker room, calling me out, and establishing his territory. He stood with his arms crossed in baggy sweat pants and no shirt. His chest puffed out as far as it would go as he rocked on his six-foot frame. I took my time and walked over to him, meeting him in the middle of the room where he stood flanked by his tight end, Christians, on his right and a lineman I didn’t recognize on his left.

“Marcus Sampson.” I extended my hand; he grabbed it and pulled me in for an awkward man hug considering he only came up to my shoulders.

“It’s good to see you, man. You excited to be here?” he asked, looking up at me. He still had a firm grip on my hand. I put a hand on his shoulder and pulled my hand away.

“I am.”

“Looking forward to picking your brain. Get some of those tricks you used in college to win. Maybe you can bring some of those FSU winning ways to the Cardinals.” He made the tomahawk gesture, but with a limp wrist. Lame insult, but we were playing nice for the moment.

“Yeah, well, I’m here to help the team.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.” He stepped close to me, and I had to lean down to hear him, “And you have my permission.”

“Permission for what?”

“That hot little lawyer with the great ass. You have my permission to get with her. I’m done with her anyway.”

Sampson looked up at me, winked, and hit me in the chest. He walked away giggling like a bitch as I stood there with my mouth open. No way, Carrington hooked up with that guy. How did he even know about Carrington and I?

Fucking intern.

“Hey man, don’t pay attention to anything that comes out of that troll’s mouth. He’s scared.”

I turned. James Towson stood next to my locker. I walked back shaking my head.

“Scared?”

“Yeah, he knows he’s about to lose his job.” James extended his hand, “James Towson.”

“Jackson Mitchell.”

The Cardinals drafted James in the first round last year.  He won rookie of the year and should have been in the top five of wide receivers in the league if his quarterback didn’t have a hard on for his tight end.  At six-three, two twenty, he was a stereotypical big time NFL wide receiver. He needed the right quarterback.

“Five minutes, guys.” A trainer yelled into the locker room and the guys pulled stuff out of their locker and got dressed, grabbing equipment and tying their shoes. I grabbed my helmet and some tape and followed James out toward the practice field.

As we stepped outside, I looked around and inhaled the smell of fresh cut grass. The heat hadn’t quite reached its peak. The pristine field got me excited, ready to tear it up. 

God, I love football.

“Listen, you ever want to work on routes after practice, let me know,” James said as we stepped out on the field.

I grabbed his shoulder. “I’m letting you know now.”

He smiled and we both took off in a jog to the other side of the field and back. We jogged in step back and forth until Coach called us to huddle up.