Page 44 of Going for Two
“Ready?” Adam called out from behind us. Before either of us could say anything, there was a sharp push that sent us careening down the hill.
Wind rushed around my face as we rocketed down the steep incline. Laughter bubbled out of me as we picked up speed. Nolan pulled me tighter into his chest, tight enough that I could feel his chest rumble first before I heard his laughter over the wind roaring in my ears.
The sound melted away any lingering hurt I had from the moment between us in the locker room. By the time we slowed down at the bottom of the hill, I’d realized that Nolan and I were just two people broken inside trying to figure out a way to make themselves whole again.
We were one and the same.
Chapter 20
Lottie
“So, you’re saying that I won’t be able to play tomorrow?” Nolan asked me from where he lay on one of the training tables at the practice facility the day before the Bobcats’ tenth game of the season.
I watched Nolan war with his emotions as he tried his best to not let the desperation clawing inside of him win. He was trying to stick to his word when it came to how he treated people when things didn’t quite go his way this season. But the sadness in his eyes told anyone who looked closely enough how he really felt about sitting out another game.
“You worked with Caleb this week. You made sure he’d be ready for something like this,” I reminded him. “You really have a knack for coaching.”
Nolan sighed, but his eyes softened when I reached out to squeeze his hand to give him whatever reassurance I could.
The spark between us hadn’t quite returned to the blaze that it once was, but it was still there simmering beneath the surface as the two of us tried to start fresh over this past week. It slowly grew with passing glances, innocent touches, and the wonder of what it would feel like to kiss him again.
But any chances of stealing a few moments to ourselves were squandered with our focus being solely on trying to get Nolan well enough to play in tomorrow’s game. The two of us spent hours in the training room trying everything we could to minimize his pain and swelling. When we weren’t workingtogether, Nolan had taken the time to help Caleb in the off chance that he wouldn’t be able to take the field, while I researched every treatment I could get my hands on that could potentially help Nolan’s injury.
“You’ve helped Caleb get this far. I know how important this win would be for the team. So, coach him through it.”
“How do you do that?” Nolan asked me as he slid off the table. He’d plastered a small smile on his face but the droop in his shoulders caught my eye.
“Do what?”
“Know exactly what to do next?” Nolan’s hand reached out to brush against mine. “Every time something doesn’t go to plan, it’s like you’ve got the next six options ready.”
I stretched my fingers out, so my pinky curled around his. “Well, that isn’t true. I never know what to do next. I can just see what you’re good at, Nolan. The only question is if you enjoy it enough to feel the same.”
It was just the two of us in the training room, nearly the entire place had been emptied after practice had ended. Nolan laced our fingers together and a genuine smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he looked down at our joined hands.
“I have this sense of fulfillment whenever I watch Caleb get something that we’ve been working on.” I stayed quiet as Nolan worked through his thoughts.
Having to pivot and to find something else to do with your life after you’d figured out what you were truly good at had to be difficult. It probably came across as rich coming from me—someone who had spent much of her life putting her worth into her work—but I wanted to share my recent revelations with him. The only thing that really mattered was making ourselves happy, even if that was sometimes the hardest choice.
“I can see myself being good at coaching. It keeps me around football and lets me use my knowledge and skills to better others,” Nolan concluded.
“Isn’t the quarterbacks coach retiring after this year, too?” I added.
Nolan nodded in confirmation.
“You could always approach the coaching staff about your interest in the job. The worst that can happen is they turn you away.”
Nolan’s eyes blazed with new determination. He looked like he wanted to devour me as he pinned me in place with our hands still clasped together. He had nearly a foot on me in height as he towered over me. I took a step back as he took a step toward me. The backs of my thighs hit the edge of the training bed behind me. I fell back into a sitting position as Nolan closed the distance between us.
My eyes flickered to the closed door of the training room, worried that someone would walk in.
“Practice is done. No one is here,” Nolan reminded me as his hands came down on the bed on either side of me, taking away any chance I had at escaping. That same desperate feeling I felt in the bathroom of the club blazed through my body—the anticipation, the desire for his hands to beanywhereon my body, and the way my body felt like it needed his. It overwhelmed my senses and muddled any of the awareness I had for where we currently were.
Nolan’s nose slipped inside the curtain of my hair and traced down the side of my neck, raising goosebumps down my back and arms. His hands remained firmly on the table as his mouth and nose traced a path around my body, barely brushing against my skin.
I had never been one to experience irrational thinking. I’d always had to be the responsible one. The one that took care of my baby sister. The one with a good job to make sure bills were paid in case my father ever went on a drinking bender after a bad fight with my mother. The one that helped my sister through college. I’d never been the one to throw caution to the wind.
But I think I understood why people lost all sense of reason the second that Nolan’s lips hovered over mine. My hands buried themselves in his sweatshirt and yanked him closer to me, driven by the need to have as little space between us as possible. The moment before his lips finally touched mine felt like it happened in slow motion. But I didn’t mind. The anticipation was just as addictive of a feeling as kissing him was.