“It…doesn’t, it just means there’ll be less pressure to come back and do something I shouldn’t.”
“So it’s about making things easier for you? Is that it?”
“I guess, so, yeah.” He looked at me, hopefully.
“Well, do you want my opinion on the matter?”
“Of course I do, that’s why I asked you. I don’t just bare my soul like this for fun, you know.”
I looked Lance square in the eye. “I think you’re being a fucking idiot, Lance. Grow up.”
He looked stunned, like I had reached up and punched him. And in that moment, I actually kinda wanted to. Maybe he’d get a little sense, then.
“Don’t hold back, Charlotte, tell me how you really feel.”
I stood up and started walking around the room, unable to sit still while all the thoughts raged through my head. “You can’t seriously be considering this, can you?”
Lance’s eyes followed me. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t seriously thinking about it.”
“Do you really think you’ll get a better shot at a starting job somewhere else? This is your home, Lance, even if you’ve only been here just over a season. This team drafted you when every other team passed on you. Multiple times!”
“I know that, but if Oliver keeps playing well…”
“Don’t give me that crap. We both know Oliver’s gotten this far on an easy stretch of the schedule. The Jets? The Cowboys? These are garbage teams, Lance, and you know it. You could have beaten these teams with your eyes blindfolded.”
“Or on one leg?”
“Oh sure, now you’re cracking jokes. This is serious business!”
“I know, I know, please keep going, I’m really enjoying watching you get so worked up over my career.”
I stopped at that, staring at him. Why was I so worked up about this? Why did I care so much about stupid Lance Parker getting back on the field this year so he could finish what he started, get a long term deal, and become the hero New England wanted him to be?
The hero I wanted him to be. Why was this so important to me?
I knew the answer to that last question, of course. It was important to me because even though I wanted to wring Lance Parker’s neck 30% of the time, the other 70% of the time I wanted to be in his arms, in bed with him, or doing whatever with him. I just wanted him to be close to me. I wanted to see that look he had for me when our eyes met across the room.
“I just think,” I said softly, coming back to the bed, “that this is where you belong, Lance. You won’t get a better shot than here. This is your team, Oliver’s just been keeping your spot for you while you recover. Don’t let your brothers down by hanging it up for the year. They need you out there.”
Lance said nothing, but I could see the strain in his eyes.
“You’re so close, Lance, you just have to go a couple more weeks and then you’ll be cleared to play.”
“I…can’t deal with this stuff, Charlotte. I’ve never been good at it. It’s the reason I shut everyone out, the reason I have that rule that’s gotten in our way.” He took my hand in his, and I ached to feel his touch more often. “In the past the only way I’ve been able to deal with bad things happening has been to shut down, focus entirely on the most important thing, and then start again, drowning everything out.”
“All I’m asking is that you focus on this one thing, then. You’ve gotten this far, just go the last few steps and you’ll be right back where you started.”
He looked at me. “You really think I can do it.”
I took the plunge. I knew we weren’t supposed to, I knew it was against the rule, but I didn’t care anymore. I jumped onto the bed and leaned over, kissing Lance Parker hard on the lips.
I moved my head just past his head to his ear. “I’ve never believed in anyone like I believe in you, Lance Parker. I just wish you’d believe in yourself as much as I do,” I whispered to him.
I kissed him again before I moved my head back. Lance looked at me with a mixture of admiration and gratitude and lust, and more than anything I wanted to take a picture of that look and save it forever.
“You’re right, Charlotte. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“We’ll forget this conversation ever happened.”
He stared at me. “I won’t, though,” he whispered.
And then he kissed me again, and I forgot what happened next.
That night when I finally got home and hung out with Sandy for a little bit before bed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I knew things with Lance and I were starting to look up again, and for that I was more than grateful, but there seemed to be clouds swirling around my head that I couldn’t seem to shake.