13. North

thirteen

North

Sitting across from each other at the same Coffee Loft booth—me drinking my ol' reliable spiced chai, and Gia risking a blueberry mocha—our free hands slide across the table until they meet, and we playfully hold hands like two giddy teenagers.

Gia dips her drink straw into the mountain of whip cream, scoops a glop up, and then brings it to her mouth. I fight the urge to hang my jaw as this might be the most entertaining thing I've seen all year, and I coach football for a living, so I see an awful lot of entertaining things. Need I say more?

"I'm still in so much disbelief over this last week." Her voice is relaxed and smokey, as if we've finally broken all the nervous jitters we've had between us for the last…well forever.

"I've enjoyed this week so much." I make sure to close my jaw, securely fastening it into place, but find myself biting my lower lip.

As she sips from her straw, I slide to the edge of my seat, my gaze glued to her lips. My own lips tingle as if they feel hers on them. "Let me ask you something." She shifts in her seat, leaning back, relaxing even more. "If you liked me in high school, why didn't you ever say anything?

One word—or rather one big aerodynamic face—flashes through my mind.

Rocco.

I don't dare tell her that her brother had threatened me to stay away, because it will upset her. She already has such an emotional time talking about Rocco. She doesn't need to know another way he potentially destroyed her happiness. I shrug a shoulder, but it does nothing to ease the tension that Rocco's name instills in my body. "Ah, I've always been shy, especially when it comes to you."

"Right, back then." She drags an index finger in the air, as if to motion to the past. "But this week you haven't been shy at all. What changed?"

"I guess the fact that I saw how fast time goes. I figured if you rejected me, I could just avoid you. It's not like you live next door anymore." I reach across the table and grab her other hand. Even holding both hands, I still don't feel close enough. "And because it had to be for something. Someone doesn't hold onto that kind of chemistry for so long if it doesn't matter."

"I know you like your routines." Her eyebrow spikes to challenge me. "Hanging out with me may mess all those up."

"To be honest," I slap on my mischievous smile. "all I ever wanted was you to mess up my life."

Her lashes flutter, and I bring her hand to my lips, dropping a chaste kiss on her hand.

It's the most amazing feeling to be able to do that.

Better than winning any football game.

Well, maybe not the super bowl, but let's be realistic in our comparisons.

Better than winning any high school football game.

Her cheeks flush, and she looks down at her phone. "I think they're going to close soon, but I'm at my dad's all weekend. You're welcome to come on over."

We rise to our feet at the same time, meandering to the door like we've been in sync for years. I walk her all the way to her car and give her my most natural smile. "My car is in staff parking, so I'll say goodnight here." I don't think it's too soon to risk a kiss, but I'm just savoring the sweetness we have right now. I lean in, wrap my arms around her for a long hug. It already feels like we've belonged together forever. When I pull away, I open her car door and say, "Night."

She plops down onto the driver's seat, smiling in a way that brightens her already glowing face. "Night, North."

I close the door and stand with both hands in my jacket pockets as she drives out of the parking lot, and then I stroll back to my car, whistling My Girl the whole way.

I round the corner, and notice my car is the only one left in the employee lot, but I'm not alone. A dark figure paces around my car, causing me to squint, and bring him into clearer focus. I understand the presence is no accident, nor coincidence.

Ice floods my veins, and I slow my steps until we're standing face to face. "Rocco."

He stops in front of my driver's door, blocking my car. His shaved head glimmers under the streetlight, and he's dressed like he's in the mob or something in his ominous monotone black. He's always had a flare for the dramatic. "Well, look at you. Hometown football coach hero, winning the game at the last second."

"What do you want?" My fingers dig into my palms. I'm not afraid of him. I can hold my own. Rocco has never been about physical violence. He always aims deeper than that—the pocketbook.

"Who says I want anything?"

"Well, it's almost ten o'clock." I struggle not to put my fist in his fat smug lip. "You're out here pacing an empty parking lot."

"I thought we could chat." His nostrils flare, tipping me off that he's lying. "With it being near the end of the year, and everything, I was looking through some tax stuff, and we need to talk about my sponsorship check for next year—"

"Cut to the chase," I speak over him. "It's Friday night. This isn't about your check. What do you want?"

He pulls out his phone, flashing something at me on his screen. "Want to explain what this is." He snarls.

My gaze centers on his phone.

A photo of Gia and me holding each other under the bleachers.

"I told you to leave my sister alone. Did I not?"

I scoff. He can't be serious! "We were kids, Rocco." I shake my head at how preposterous this is. "She's an adult now, and so am I. This is crazy. Can you please step aside so I can get in my car?"

Shoving his phone in his pocket, he narrows his gaze, resentment etching the tips of his lips. "You seem to forget; I never asked . You will stay away from her, or you will pay."

Pay.

That's exactly what he's after. Blackmail of some sort, but joke's on him, I'm a teacher. I don't have any money. The only thing he can possibly take from me is that sponsorship check, but the whole town counts on that. He'd only be hurting himself.

The thing with Rocco is he is too stupid to see that. He'd be the guy who would destroy his own livelihood if it meant he could take down someone he hates. Every fiber of my being knows he isn't bluffing, but I've spent my life afraid of Rocco.

I'm so done having him bully me. My entire life I've cowered from his threats. It's gotten me nowhere.

I'm done being that guy.

Anger buds from my gut, burning a spiral of adrenaline through all my extremities. My fingers tighten one by one into a tight fist, and I slowly pull my hand back, winding up. The sequence plays out in slow motion, and it's everything I've wanted to do to Rocco for years. With the deepest breath I can suck in, I dream of slugging him in his gut. Instead, I take the higher road, push past him, bumping my shoulder into his. "Get lost," I murmur and I steal the opportunity to slide into my car. I don't even check the rearview mirror as I squeal the tires and speed off.

I've never felt better.