Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

JETT

I stop by Jenna and Devin's house Monday night on my way home. I didn't make the family dinner last Thursday. (I really did try to get there on time, but an accident on Highway 90 turned me being slightly late after training into way too late.) Weekends are my busiest days, so this is the first chance I've had to see my family in almost a week. My phone buzzes with a text from Hayden as I head up the sidewalk. We've been texting off and on since the charity game—silly bets about one thing or another as she tries to win back the twenty she lost from me last Thursday. I don't pause to respond—I want to give my attention to Hayden when I do, and I'll give my family my attention when I'm with them. I've enjoyed Hayden's texting and flirting, and Claire's over the moon about it. Like Hayden predicted, the picture she posted of us got a ton of engagement, and my agent has texted several times to applaud me over this development. Maybe I should call and ask Hayden out; I'll ask Jenna what she thinks.

I knock on the door and hear Jenna's grandma Miss Maggie call for me to come in. The house is quiet as I step inside, and Miss Maggie is sitting in a recliner, reading. The kids must be in bed.

"Hello, Miss Maggie. "

She smiles as she puts aside her book and adjusts the recliner to put the footrest down, leaning forward for me to approach her and kiss her cheek. Jenna and Devin have the only grandkids between our two families, so we all spend a lot of time together. Miss Maggie is one of my favorite people to talk to.

"Evening, Jett. Perfect timing to keep me company. Jenna and Devin are at the storage unit," she says.

I chuckle. After watching Jenna's kids, Miss Maggie was probably looking forward to some quiet time, but I'm not sorry to find her alone. I should go help Jenna and Devin unload Miss Maggie's stuff at the storage unit, but I'd rather visit with her.

"How are you?" she asks. "You look exhausted."

I sit down on the couch next to her recliner. "Practice was intense today."

"And you haven't been sleeping." She raises her eyebrows and then pats a finger gently under one of her own eyes. "Bags like you're taking a six-month vacation, honey," she says.

I shrug. I don't want to admit that Ava is still on my mind, despite whatever's going on with Hayden. Miss Maggie's words make me think of something similar that Coach said a couple weeks after Ava left—I was dragging; I looked dead on my feet. Luckily she'd waited until the end of the season to leave, but the minute Coach said something, I made sure to turn things around ASAP.

Despite my lack of response, Miss Maggie says softly, "Jenna told me about Ava." She reaches over and pats my hand where I'm resting it on the arm of the couch.

I draw in a long breath. "That was years ago. Seeing her again threw me for a loop, but it's okay."

Miss Maggie raises her eyebrows again but doesn't say anything. I hate the silence she lets settle between us, so when a few seconds pass that feel like much longer, I can't help that something spills out. Despite Jenna, Devin, and my parents all confronting me with similar things, I want to confide in Miss Maggie .

"I didn't expect to still feel so angry with her."

"Oh." Miss Maggie lets out a soft puff of breath with this. "Did you do a good job of grieving the first time around?" she asks.

I shrug again. After Ava left, I pushed every thought I could away. I pretended I was over it quickly. I threw myself into workouts even though it was the offseason, and I buried myself in homework and the job I'd gotten to help Ava pay for everything. I made sure I had no spare minutes to think about her.

"Probably not," I admit.

Miss Maggie nods. "Well, maybe this is your chance then." She leans into the arm of the couch, studying me. "It's okay to be angry about what happened. You were engaged. That's a serious relationship to lose."

I scoff. "After seven years? Shouldn't it be about time I let it go?"

"Not if you never let yourself feel it in the first place." She eyes me sternly.

I have to laugh at that. "I definitely felt the anger." Anger at Ava fueled so many workouts that my coach noted my increased strength right away.

Miss Maggie leans back in her recliner, her expression thoughtful, the picture of a wise therapist, her credentials coming from years of experience. "And then I bet you said, ‘Enough. Time to move on and that's that'?" I don't have to answer for her to know that's exactly what I did. Like I said, I've known Miss Maggie a long time. "Why are you angry, Jett?" she asks.

I clench my jaw, letting the hopelessness wash over me, but I can't articulate anything beyond a simple "She left."

"You need to look at it from a distance. You can't let go of all this anger if you can't separate yourself from it." She pushes herself out of her recliner, thankfully not making me process my emotions right in front of her. But maybe lying down on the couch and spilling my guts to Miss Maggie would be a good thing.

"I made some cheesecake yesterday," she says. "Let's have some. Sugar always helps."

I chuckle and stand. She doesn't need it, but I take her arm anyway and walk with her into the kitchen. I'd rather keep on ignoring Ava every way I can, but Miss Maggie is probably right about me packing away my emotions for too long.

Can I see Ava from a distance and not just as the woman who shattered my heart? Can I figure out exactly why I'm so angry, even all these years later? I have to try. Ava's going to be underfoot whether I like it or not, planning this dumb, middle-of-the-season wedding distraction, and I can't just pretend like we're fine, as much as I'd like to.

The invite to Colby and Gabriella's first-date anniversary party comes from Gabriella's email address, but I already know from Colby that Ava is putting it together and that, as Colby's friend, my attendance is mandatory.

"Governor Sutton thinks you're the greatest Texan there is. You have to come," Colby says as we head out to our cars after our workouts on Tuesday. It's technically our day off, but most players like to come in and get workouts, training, and study in. Sunday was an easy win, something I was grateful for after a week of drama. I had to push my feelings about Ava being back in town aside and focus, which isn't the processing Miss Maggie wanted me to do, but it'll have to work for now. Finding time to work through this has been tough, especially with Claire pushing me to ask Hayden out and post more about my life on social media. I really have been meaning to ask Hayden out, but there's still a part of me that's resisting opening up my life to my fans, and dating someone as popular online as Hayden would be a big loss of the privacy I've been clinging to for personal things. How is Colby so chill with this happening with his wedding, something that should be one of the most special events of his life?

"So Ava will be there?" I say, more of a question than a statement. I haven't figured out how to see the situation from a distance, and being up close with Ava again feels like a step in the wrong direction.

Colby sighs. "Of course. I don't know how you missed that Gabriella and Ava are close, but with her here doing all the wedding stuff, you're going to see her. So she's an ex. What's the big deal?"

"Nothing." I shake it off. He's right. I can't start avoiding everything because Ava might be there. "Doesn't it ever bother you that your wedding is a play in a long game?" I can't help asking. It annoyed me when Colby announced that he and Gabriella were getting married in the middle of the season. I want to focus on winning a championship this year, and one of the key players in our offense has his attention split. Plus, bringing in Ava has proven to be more of a distraction than I want for myself. It's getting further and further under my skin.

Colby shrugs. "Our wedding is just a day in the timeline of our relationship. Sure, it's going to be special, and it can be, even if there are some things we'll do for show. This is Gabriella's dream, and if I have the power to lift that a little, I'm going to do it."

I nod, but I don't get it. I mean, I know Gabriella's not marrying Colby for his notoriety. I just can't quite get behind making such a special day about something so artificial.

Somehow Claire knows about the party too. An email from her shows up in my inbox on Wednesday morning. Colby's party is the perfect opportunity to take Hayden out and be seen! Also, your plus-one to his wedding. Do you have another date lined up yet? Let's use this to get people talking about you. This doesn't help my feelings about this wedding if even I'm using it to promote my career. I wish it would all just go away .

I'm not ready to make Hayden my plus-one for the wedding. It's already artificial to me, and I don't need to add a fake relationship for publicity to the mix. I want to get to know Hayden more before I commit. Right now I'm thinking of taking Jenna's younger sister, who I know would enjoy a night out among the "stars" of Houston and wouldn't expect too much of me. An easy date and no relationship to take up space in the already limited area in my brain I have right now for things outside of football.

I put off Claire the same way I did with her texts a week ago, responding: I'll think about it .

Facing Ava at the party is worse than I expect when I show up to Gabriella's parents' house on Friday night.

When Ava and I were together, we were busy college students. More often than not, we spent our evenings together at my tiny apartment in sweats and T-shirts, eating ramen or something I'd brought home from campus on my food allowance. That's the Ava I remember, and that's the Ava who's been the target of my hurt since she left. She looked so vulnerable the night I saw her at Jenna's that it didn't really affect that picture of her in my head.

This Ava is a sophisticated professional. She's wearing black wide-leg trousers with very high heels and a sleeveless top with lace edging. Instead of a ponytail or bun on top of her head, her hair is straight and parted deep on one side, a pearl clip holding back some of her strawberry blonde hair. She's gorgeous, and I hate that I can't take my eyes off her. This isn't the same kind of attraction when I started noticing her back in high school or even the comfortable allure of her when we were in college—the way I wanted my arms around her whenever we were in the same room. There's an uncomfortable zing to noticing her now, like she's someone I don't quite know and want to .

She looks up when I step into the living room of the Diaz home in West University. She stares before blinking and turning back to the woman next to her. She taps on the woman's tablet and nods, and then the woman walks away. Ava turns completely away from where I'm standing, and at least I'm satisfied to know that she's as shaken up as I am.

Jenna's voice from seven years ago slips into my brain. "I think you should talk to her. Once you're over the worst of the hurt, it'll make things easier."

I know what she means now. That I could walk up to Ava and greet her like a friend instead of skirting around all the feelings I haven't dealt with, as Miss Maggie put it. I could take a picture with her and add it to the collection of smiling selfies I've posted the last few days.

I take a step toward Ava, even though I have no idea what I'll say to her, but Gabriella approaches her first. I swallow and glance around the room. I need to find a teammate to talk to, to keep me from seeking out Ava. I can't avoid her here, but what am I supposed to talk to her about?

"Jett!" It's Colby who saves me from myself, calling me over to him. "You remember Governor Sutton," he says.

I stick out my hand. Given that the governor's a huge football fan, I've met him at more than a few events. "Hello, sir."

The middle-aged man grins as he grips my hand. For a politician, he's likable and friendly. "Great game," he says. "I swear, some of those handoffs you made were pure magic."

I chuckle, my chest already easing from my almost-encounter with Ava. "Thanks." We settle into the kind of football conversation I have with my brother and dad, Colby and I ribbing each other for missed plays and the governor complimenting everything we both do.

I head in to dinner with Colby, almost relaxed even if there's an awareness of Ava hovering around the edges of my brain. "Hey," I say to Colby before we get into the dining room. "I need some image tips. Claire thinks I'm too grumpy. People seem to like you."

He laughs. "Thanks, man. It's all Gabriella."

I put my hands in my pockets, irritated that he doesn't have an easy answer. "She runs your social media?"

"No. She doesn't even run her own." He says this like that should be obvious. I guess it's not surprising. One of Claire's suggestions a few weeks ago was to hire someone to spruce up my accounts, but I've resisted. It's more fakeness, someone else presenting my life to fans. It's like the women at the charity game who didn't bother with the small talk, as Hayden put it, and didn't try to engage. If I'm going to give up privacy and let fans into my life, I want it to be genuine. "All my followers love to see pictures of her with me," Colby continues. "That's what they ask for if I ever post something by myself. ‘Where's Gabriella?'" He shakes his head and laughs. "Get yourself a girlfriend."

I groan. "Claire suggested that too. She thinks I should ask out that woman I met at the charity game. The influencer."

Colby shrugs. "Is that so bad? I thought you liked her."

"I do. I don't know. I want to know her better, but the minute I ask her out, it will feel like everything in our relationship is for public consumption."

Colby puts his hand on my shoulder. "Look, I know you prefer all this old-fashioned stuff like high school sweethearts and all that?—"

I punch Colby in the arm. "You're lucky I'm in a suit."

He grins. "Too soon?" I roll my eyes and he sobers a moment later. "Hey, I wouldn't have met Gab if it weren't for social media. And online she looks like a lot of those other influencers, but we know differently. I'm just saying, don't shut it down out of hand. Claire means well and Hayden might be great. It has to be better than you causing drama with Gabriella's precious wedding planner."

There's a hint of warning in that statement that surprises me, but we reach the dining room before I can ask him about it. Colby moves forward to stand with Gabriella. She beams at him, and in my peripheral I notice a photographer and a quick flash, capturing the moment. It makes me stop and think. Someone else, not Colby or Gabriella, will likely post that picture, but it doesn't make the love in Gabriella's eyes any less real. Or their relationship. I remember Colby telling me about Gabriella when he first came across her while scrolling one day, a random suggestion from the app, probably because they both lived in Houston. I thought he was crazy when he DMed her. But he's right. Gabriella's much more than an online personality. How can I reconcile the genuine parts of me and real connections with fans without sacrificing too much of the privacy I value?

I settle into my seat at the top of the table, of course, near Colby, Gabriella, her parents, and the governor and his wife. I glance down the long table, filled with a couple dozen family and friends and more than a handful of football players, and find Ava near the middle, chatting and smiling with people she probably doesn't even know. It reminds me of how comfortable she was no matter what football thing I brought her to in the four years we dated. Party? She was chatting with whoever stopped near her. Awards banquet? She had the coach's wife falling all over her. She's friendly and she cares about people. She has what it takes to be the wife of a professional athlete in spades, which is probably why she's such a great event planner. I have to admit the atmosphere is perfect. Soft instrumental music plays in the background. I recognized a cover of a popular song earlier, which fits the modern vibe of the evening. I also know she put all this together in a week. That's talent.

When dinner is over and the guests move to the Diaz's backyard to enjoy the beautiful evening, I can't hold myself back from seeking Ava out. We're going to have to talk. We can't spend the next two months dancing around each other. I glance at Colby and think about his half-joking warning about causing drama with Ava. I can have a conversation with her without stirring up stuff. That's what we need to do, act like we're old friends until it becomes true.

I pull my suit coat off and drape it over a nearby chair. Now that I'm outside in the hot air and not inside the air-conditioned home, it's too much. Fans blow a cool breeze over the large backyard, where some people sit in outdoor furniture on the stone patio next to the house and others mingle in the grass. Lights are strung around to provide ambient lighting. The effect is soft and romantic, perfect for Colby and Gabriella's celebration.

I would've thought that seven years apart meant Ava wasn't attuned to me the way she was before, but she turns as I approach where she's standing alone underneath a wooden pergola lined with the same lights that dot the whole backyard. Unlike before, I can't read anything in her expression. I try to dismiss the unease that's been boiling under the surface, so I hope my expression is as calm as hers.

But how can it be when half my brain is back at that night, her standing in the tiny living room? The whole apartment was the size of a shoebox and cheap enough that my housing allowance covered it so I didn't need roommates. Ava and I spent every evening we could there together, enough that she joked about barely knowing the women she lived with.

The living room was one small square with the kitchen, so we'd squeezed in a little love seat (really more of an oversized chair, but we didn't mind), a stamp-sized dining table with two folding chairs (had to be folding so we could put them away; otherwise, we couldn't walk around in the room), and the laughably sized TV we'd mounted on the wall to save space.

By the time she started her speech on how it was best that we take a break for a while, I'd backed myself up against the wall between the living room and the one bedroom and still wasn't very far from her. How does one "take a break" from the love of their life? How does someone walk away from the person they're supposed to marry? Maybe that's the problem. All this time and I still can't wrap my brain around it .

I slow my steps and take a few seconds to refocus, practicing one of the techniques I use on the field when distractions are overwhelming me: What can I control? Myself, my reactions, my attitude. The past is done. I couldn't stop Ava from leaving, much as I had tried to in my imagination.

"I'm sorry about the other night," she says as I approach. "I didn't realize the call was going. When I saw … when I saw it was you, I sort of forgot about it."

"Don't worry about it. I understand. It took me by surprise too." I force my shoulders to relax.

She puts her hands in the pockets of the pants she's wearing, and I think she's leaning away. I must be putting off more tension than I thought. I try to see her and our past from a distance, a story someone told me. Just two high school sweethearts, like Colby said, one of many that didn't make it work in the long run.

"I bet. I didn't know it was Jenna's place." She looks at the ground, tapping her foot against the stone that's set in a spiral pattern under the pergola. "Gabriella arranged everything."

"That house is great. You'll love staying there." I don't point out that Gabriella probably hid it from her on purpose. Jenna admitted to me that she approached Gabriella after I mentioned that she was looking for a place to rent out for her planner—in annoyance, probably, over such a big wedding at an inopportune time—and Gabriella never told Jenna the name of the planner.

"It's really nice. I love having the beach right there. I'd ask why Jenna and Devin aren't living there, but it's only a two bedroom. They have three kids now?" She doesn't look up from studying the stone.

"Yeah, it's a little small." I lean back against one of the posts of the pergola, arms folded over my chest until I realize that probably makes me look hostile. I straighten again.

"Gabriella says you have a place nearby?"

I catch the worry in that statement. "Not too close to you." I give her a wry smile. "Just up the road from Jenna. Even though Kemah is small, I spend most of my time in Houston."

She looks up. "Oh, I…" She waves off my statement but doesn't finish hers, clearing her throat instead.

One of the fans moves the air around us, and a familiar scent floats by me, flowery with hints of vanilla and lavender. It's the smell of Ava's shampoo. Inexplicably I want to stride to her, take her in my arms, and bury my face in her hair. Part of me thinks it would be so easy to just push past the tension between us, let go of what she did, and just fall into each other.

"Does Jenna have other houses? Other GetAwayHomes?" Ava asks, pulling me from my temporary bout of insanity.

"Not yet. She hopes to soon, but she won't let me help." I give Ava a mock scowl that makes her laugh, and the insanity threatens to creep back in. This is potent. I force myself to remember how much time has passed, how much we've both probably changed.

"That sounds like her. Remember that time the oil in her car needed to be changed, but she wanted to do it so Devin didn't have to worry about it since he was in the middle of finals?" Ava grins at me and my mouth automatically pulls up in response. There are some other automatic things my lips want to do, but I strangle the urge.

"She kept telling me to get out of the garage because she had it handled," I say, the memory of Jenna's insistence turning my smile warm. That was right after I graduated from high school. Ava and I were already spending every moment we could together before I left for fall camp at UNR in August.

She shakes her head, her smile wistful. "You snuck in when she went inside to get lunch and drained the oil. She was so mad when she caught you." Ava tilts her head at me, amusement sparkling in her eyes at the lecture she probably remembers Jenna giving me about respecting her. "You always wanted to be the one taking care of people."

I'm glad that's how she remembers me, because the memory of me as a know-it-all eighteen-year-old is uncomfortable. But there's a sadness to her tone that I can't quite decipher. I'm sure she's referring to the fact that I insisted on helping pay her rent and for food when she came to UNR my junior year. But why the sadness? Because she ended up leaving? Does she connect it all somehow?

"Jenna was right to tell me off."

Ava laughs again, a short, happy sound, and then she shrugs. "Probably."

"So do you plan a lot of weddings?" I ask. I looked her up earlier this week after I got the invite to this dinner. She works for a firm in Atlanta with almost ten event planners on staff. On the website, Ava is listed as doing weddings, fundraising events, small corporate trainings, and a handful of other things, like a Jane of all events, but the last several events listed in her portfolio were all weddings.

She stiffens and draws in a breath. I'm not sure what to make of that reaction. Isn't she proud of what she does? "For the last couple of years, yeah."

I glance at the small crowd mingling in the yard around us. "Gabriella will have you doing fundraising for her, I'm sure."

She tenses even more, and I don't know what I've said. With Gabriella looking for a political career, it makes sense that one of her best friends would get involved with the campaign, especially given Ava's expertise. There were also several fundraisers in her portfolio. Her mouth is pressed into a line. "Not likely," she says, turning her gaze away from me.

I raise my eyebrows. "You kind of already are, aren't you?" I gesture with my chin to the guests in the yard. Besides the governor, there are friends of Gabriella's family here that Gabriella will be hitting up for money when the time comes.

When Ava's eyes come back around to me, they're narrowed. The conversation has spiraled quickly, if the heat in her glare says anything. I've said something wrong, but as I scramble, I don't know why the topic of her career and Gabriella's future campaign are sensitive subjects. It's a reminder that I don't know her the way I used to.

"Excuse me?" She folds her arms and inches a step back from me. I didn't realize we'd come so close together. It's so natural. "I'm just doing what the bride asked."

Maybe my tone was judgier than I thought. I can't say why everything about this wedding is bugging me so much, except that I should be home, getting rest and prepping for the game on Sunday instead of schmoozing the governor. I know other guys on the team will be out partying tonight, so it's unfair, but all this stuff in the middle of the season is too much for me.

I back up a step too. "Sorry. I just think all of this is over the top. Less a wedding and more a spectacle."

Despite her arms held tightly in front of her, I can see her clenching her fist. "I guess I shouldn't expect a guy who's the most popular person in the state to understand the uphill battle Gabriella's facing. Right now, most people in Texas only know about her because she's marrying Colby Duncan." She shakes her head at me, and it's almost like disgust rains around me from her expression. "She shouldn't have to work so hard, but she does, and you're judging her for taking the opportunity she does have? You've changed, Jett."

She stalks away, and I risk a glance toward Colby, who's engrossed in conversation with Gabriella's dad, thankfully. This interaction could definitely be counted as drama. In my defense, I didn't know that asking about Ava's plans for Gabriella would lead to a touchy subject.

But I could've kept my judgments about the wedding to myself.

I'm letting all of this overwhelm me, and I need to pull it together. Convoluting my irritation at Colby for the timing of the wedding with my unresolved feelings about Ava being back in my life is putting me off-balance more than anything. That's on me.

I watch as Ava slows her march away to a calmer walk toward the house, brushing off Gabriella with a smile and hand gestures as she points inside. I read her lips. Ladies room. I pull my gaze quickly away when I realize how closely I'm paying attention to her. Colby breaks off from where he's standing with Gabriella's dad and joins me under the pergola.

"What was that?" he asks. Apparently his conversation didn't distract him from seeing my conversation with Ava blowing up.

I wince. "Nothing. It's fine. I'm going to grab something to drink." He can't expect my first few encounters with Ava to magically be easy, can he?

He frowns and snags my arm before I get away. "Is this going to be an issue, Combs?" Most of the guys shorten my last name to the last syllable, but the way Colby says it has me prickling.

"No, man. Of course not." I force a smile that's probably grim and stride away. Colby and I can count on each other unfailingly on the field. I need him to know it's the same off the field.

Everything will be fine.