“As long as it's only playing.” He raises his brow.
Shit, does he know something? “Whatever Adam,” and I hip check him. “Grab a beer, everyone will be right over, then we’ll head down.”
“How’s everything going anyway? The press around the fight seems to have died down quickly.”
“Yeah, well, when Nick didn’t get the reaction he wanted from anyone, he disappeared again. I don’t believe for a second that he’s letting it all go, but for right now we have a reprieve.”
“Just be careful. You’re spending a lot of time with his team and him. Gage can be very consuming.”
“What do you mean?”
“Imean, Jackson falls very easily into the main focus of everything. Becomes everyone’s priority. Then leaves. You know he’s planning on leaving right?”
Damn, Adam, talk about cutting a girl to the core.
“Of course, I know,” I snap. “That’s why I’m helping him.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get so defensive. I just want to protect you.”
“You don’t have to protect me at every turn. He’s your best friend, why are you talking about him like that?”
“Yes, he is my best friend and I know him like the back of my hand. I just don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire.”
“I’m a big girl Adam, I can handle myself.”
“You’re so stubborn. Why can’t you let me worry about my little sister?” His face drops when I give him an ‘are you kidding’ look? “Sissy, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I just,” he sighs. “I know Jackson. The real Jackson and the Jackson the world thinks they know. Then there’s the Jackson that he gives the world. He’s very easy at conforming to what he thinks people want to see.”
“Clearly not if he can’t get them to see he’s a great coach that deserves a chance at something bigger.”
“No, you’re right. He’s still being held back by stupid bullshit that is years old. What I’m saying is… fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying. Chessy, I don’t want you falling into a trap. A trap of a future he can’t give you. I know you always had a crush on him when we were younger, and I know I’ve had to tell him quite a few times to stop looking at you a certain way. I love Jackson to death, you know that, he knows that, I just think this thing, whatever you guys are doing for the press is going to convince you he can give you something he can’t.”
“What if it’smethat can’t givehimsomething he wants? Everthink of it that way? I’m trying very hard to help get him a title he deserves, and maybe I’m not good enough to do it. Maybe I’m incapable of pulling this act off to get him to where he needs to be. Deserves to be. But I’m jumping in anyway because he believes that I can. I want to believe I can, and it’d be nice if you’d believe in me, too.”
He winces at that. “I do believe you can do it… if you don’t get sidetracked. I don’t want him crushing your spirit, breaking your heart. I’ll fucking kill him if he hurts you, I don’t care how long we’ve been friends.”
Bingo. That’s what I’m afraid of the most. That whatever Jackson and I are doing will cause a fall out that is irreparable with our families. I step closer to him and hug him. He’s just trying to protect me. “You’re a good big brother, Adam.”
“Hey! We’re good brothers, too! What’d he do that’s so special?” Billy and Tom come walking in, with Farrah, Bobby and Britt right behind them, everyone decked out in their Christmas Comet gear.
“Yes, you’re both great brothers, too.” I lean into Tom and Billy spins me seeing my jersey.
“Gages Girl, huh? Going a little hard, aren’t you?” He raises a brow, mimicking Adams words from earlier.
“Got to play the part,” I shrug.
Billy wears a sly smile. “Yes, baby girl, play that part,” he says with a wink.
What the fuck.
No one’s ever called me baby girl besides Gage. Where did that come from?
Britt butts in. “Okay, okay,” she’s clapping, “let’s get to the field before we miss the kick off, please!”
She gives me a squeeze and I give her one back, a silent thank you for disrupting whatever the heck is going on around here tonight.
We all file out the door and pile into my brother's Tahoe, heading to the school to watch the big homecoming game. I haven’t been to one in years, the last one probably being one of my own. However, the memory that lives on in my mind is the one where my brother and Jackson were seniors. Of course, we were all at the game, my family inour usual spots right behind the bench at the fifty-yard line, cheering on our boys.
Jackson's arm was on fire that night and my brother could do no wrong on the field. They won 45-7, a complete blowout. When we were on defense, Jackson glanced up and made eye contact with me in the stands. He gave me one of his classic smiles and mouthed to me ‘thank you for being here’. My heart stopped. I’m sure I did some stupid face or arm movement in reply.