CHAPTER 14 JOLENE

Was it me?

Was I the person that reminded him life should be about taking risks?

I feel like he arrived at that conclusion himself—maybe because of our conversation.

It wouldn't just be risky for us to give this another try.

It would have to be a secret. There is literally no other way we could make it work. He'd face the wrath of other members of the press, I'd face the judgment of an entire nation, and together we'd both be betraying our fathers.

It's stupid to even consider it.

And yet…

The way he makes me feel is the same way I felt when I was fifteen. Those feelings didn't fade in time. They didn't dim.

I don't know him now, but I do know his soul, just as he knows mine. Those imprints don't change no matter how much time has passed, no matter how much bitterness spans the distance between us.

When he said the bit about not letting anyone hold you back from reaching for everything you deserve…was he talking about our fathers?

Because we are letting them hold us back.

Would my dad understand? I have no idea. Not likely.

Would his? Absolutely not.

Is what we could potentially have together worth risking that?

I don't have that answer yet.

But I have a feeling that sharing a hotel room with Mr. Nash tonight is going to help me figure it out.

The ceremony ends, and we all disperse. I head back to the area where the press was allowed in to say goodbye to some familiar faces, and that's when I spot Lincoln.

Others are standing around him, congratulating him on a job well done, and I stand to the side and wait my turn. Eventually the crowd parts, and he spots me.

Someone is still talking to him, but I watch his mouth form the words, "Excuse me."

And then he strides across the room toward me.

I give him a quick hug—nothing inappropriate for public consumption, and I say quietly in his ear, "That was incredible, Linc."

He pulls back, and he looks a little dazed at my words as he draws in a sharp breath.

The look on his face reminds me that it's the exact phrasing I used after the first time we had sex.

I'll take things that can be said after sex and after a commencement address for two hundred.

"We need to talk," he murmurs. His eyes are hot on mine, and if we keep looking at each other like this, it will become inappropriate for public consumption.

"I know." I swallow thickly as I realize how much we need this.

"I've got a luncheon and then drinks with some old friends. But tonight…we talk."

I nod even though part of me was thinking about heading home a little early to check on Jonah. He's fine, though—in his words, anyway—and this will give me the entire afternoon to write up a story to send to Marcus. "Go. Enjoy your afternoon."

He nods, but his gaze doesn't leave mine until someone is tugging at him to get his attention. I finally turn to leave, and I run back into William Webb, an old acquaintance who used to be a teacher's assistant at UNLV and happens to work here at Ohio State as a journalism professor now. We caught up for a few minutes before the ceremony, and now here he is afterward, too.

"Are you free this afternoon?" he asks.

I nod. "I've got a story to write up, but I don't have any lunch plans."

"I'd love to chat about your career. I've been admiring you for years and I couldn't have been more thrilled when I saw you snagged the correspondent position. Well deserved, Jolene."

I try not to blush. "Thank you, Mr. Webb."

"Please. It's Will, though I'm impressed you remember my name." He reaches over to touch my arm good-naturedly…and a little playfully, too, with a touch of flirtation.

"Likewise." I offer a small giggle. The truth is I always had a tiny bit of a crush on Will Webb. I never acted on it—he was basically a teacher, four years older than me and a graduate student, but I always thought he was that rare combination of attractive and nice.

I head with Will toward the exit, but not before casing a backward glance toward where I last saw Lincoln standing.

And there he stands, gazing after us, his jaw clenched and his eyes full of fire.

A man and a woman can go out to lunch together without it meaning anything, but clearly Coach Nash disagrees with that sentiment.

I reach over and touch Will's elbow—just a light touch, but enough to make the man gazing after us go absolutely postal.

Will glances over at me and smiles, and I ask, "Where would you like to go eat?"

"There's a great sandwich shop a few blocks away," he says.

"Won't it be packed with everyone leaving the graduation at the same time?"

"Most certainly, but I know the owners. Come on." He leads me out of a private exit and we hurry down the sidewalk to beat some of the crowd still exiting the stadium. Some students are outside taking photos while others are still inside, and when we arrive at the sandwich shop, there's only a small line.

"William!" An older woman behind the counter offers a wide smile and waves him over, and we cut around the line to get to her. She grabs him into an enormous hug.

"Hey, Mom," he says a little sheepishly, and I can't help a heartwarming smile.

"This is your mom?" I ask.

"I am. And you are?"

"My name is Jolene. Will and I used to attend UNLV together. He was in the graduate program when I was an undergrad," I tell her.

"Welcome to our little sandwich shop," she says, and she offers Will a private little smile that tells me she's been waiting for him to bring a lady in someday. "What can I get for you?"

I shrug. "Whatever you recommend."

She winks at me. "I've got you covered. You two take a seat in the back and I'll bring Will's favorites right over."

"Thank you," I say as she tackles me with the same kind of hug she just gave her son. "It was lovely to meet you."

"And you, my dear."

I follow Will toward the table in the back, which is actually what appears to be some sort of break room. It oddly reminds me a bit of the break room at the Gridiron, which reminds me of Lincoln pressing me up against the wall that night, which reminds me of…

Well, the conversation we need to have tonight.

And we'll get there.

First, though, I don't want to be rude to an old acquaintance, so I pull my focus back to Will.

"Are you from here originally?" I ask.

He nods. "Born and raised just outside Columbus. My parents have owned this place for as long as I can remember."

"It must've been fun growing up so close to a college campus."

"It had its plusses and minuses. What about you? Did you like growing up the kid of a pro football player?"

"It had its plusses and minuses," I echo.

He chuckles. "I'm sure. And aside from the big correspondent promotion, what is Jolene Bailey up to these days?"

Fighting my feelings for the enemy. Worrying about betraying that pro football player father of mine. Trying not to fall back in love with someone who is likely to just break my heart all over again, something I haven't spent much time considering as I find myself thinking about him pretty much constantly.

I don't say any of that. Instead, I settle on, "Raising a seven-year-old son."

His brows raise. "A son," he echoes.

"Do you have any children?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Much to my mother's chagrin."

I smile a little tightly.

"Are you, uh…" he begins, and I wouldn't expect someone who's typically poised to stutter over his words.

My brows pinch as I think I know where he's going but I don't want to make assumptions.

Eventually he blurts it out. "Are you with his father?"

I shake my head. "His father cheated on me while I was pregnant with my son, and he ended up marrying the woman he cheated on me with." I shrug. "He's got his own family now and doesn't try too hard to make time for Jonah."

"Jonah? That's his name?"

I nod as I smile. "Had to continue the Jo tradition in my family." I dig through my purse to pull out my phone so I can show him a photo, and when I finally locate my phone, I see a series of missed text messages from an unknown number.

Unknown: Who was that?

Unknown: Where are you?

Unknown: Answer me.

Unknown: I'm not kidding around here, Jolene. Tell me who that was. Tell me you're okay.

"You okay?" Will asks as I scan the texts.

"Yeah. I just missed a bunch of messages." I ignore the texts for now and pull up a photo to show Will. I flash the screen at him rather than handing him the phone just in case Mr. Unknown decides to text again, though truth be told I didn't even know he had my number.

I suppose it's somewhere at the Complex so the team can contact the media at any given moment.

"He's a cute kid. Looks just like you," he says.

I'm not sure if that's his way of saying I'm cute or if he's just complimenting my kid. "Thanks," I murmur.

His mom brings over our lunches—ham and Swiss on sourdough along with a cup of broccoli cheddar soup, and we dig in as we catch up. We shift to work topics as I fill him in on what I've done over the course of my career, and he tells me how he'd love for me to come speak in his classroom one day. I agree to set up a date in March once the season is over, and then we're done eating.

"I better get back to my hotel so I can get this story to my editor," I say.

He looks a little disappointed. "When do you head back to Vegas?"

"Tomorrow."

"And tonight? Are you free?" he asks, the hope in his tone evident.

"Unfortunately I've got plans with an old friend, but thanks so much for asking."

He nods, accepting the rejection with grace even though he definitely seems disappointed. It's not like we're going to start up something long-distance. I don't even have time for a relationship right now, to be honest. I barely have enough time to see my own kid.

But somehow…it seems like I can make an exception for Lincoln.

Maybe Lincoln has always been my exception.

I guess I'll find out tonight.