The Gate to Everything (Once Upon a Dare Book 1) (29 page)

BOOK: The Gate to Everything (Once Upon a Dare Book 1)
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“I hope it doesn’t offend you if I say how much I adore hearing you speak,” Natalie purred, waggling her eyebrows at Blake. “Sue me.”

“But Chaz knows how to run an organization,” Blake said, waggling his eye brows right back at her, “which is why he’s well regarded. Let’s set him aside. Grace, are you okay?”

She took her wine and drank. Then she drank again. “I’m handling it.”

“Good,” Blake said, taking the bourbon he’d ordered from the bartender. “Let’s settle in and do what we came to do. Watch Jordan win a heck of a game between two undefeateds. He’s already knocked Baltimore down. I’m ready to see him do it again with this team.”

They found their seats in the box. When Jordan ran onto the field with the team, Grace’s heart swelled at the sight of him in his red jersey. He looked up at the box and blew a kiss.

This
was why she was here.

Chapter 24

Losing sucked.

Jordan hated it when his team lost a game, but he especially hated it when
he
was the one who had blown it. How had he not seen the defensive lineman waiting for him to pass the ball to his wide receiver? He’d thrown an interception, which had resulted in a touchdown for the other team. That score had put the competition ahead of the Rebels with less than a minute remaining on the clock. He hadn’t been able to pull a rabbit out of the hat and score before the seconds ran out.

He wanted to throw things. He wanted to curse. Instead he apologized to the team, and they all responded by slapping him on the back and telling him it was okay. But it wasn’t. They were no longer undefeated anymore.
 

It was even suckier that Grace had been in attendance for the first time in more than a year—along with Blake and Natalie. He hated losing in front of his family.

He needed to go home and close himself off. Watch the play again and try to understand how he hadn’t seen it. He wasn’t making that mistake again. Coach said they’d deal with it in practice in the morning, and they would. He and the offensive coordinators would break down everything. It was a bitch having your every mistake picked apart, but that’s what made it football. He’d chosen to play a game where someone lost and someone won, where someone was perfect and someone wasn’t.

He hadn’t been perfect today.

The after-game interviews were a bitch, with everyone asking him how he felt now that the Rebels were no longer undefeated. The reporters were morons sometimes. How did they
think
he felt? But he got through the interviews and said all the right things, that it was his fault and he’d do better in the next game.
 

By the time he drove home, he was at once pissed and weary.

He parked at his old house after deciding to give himself some extra time before heading down to Grace’s. She never knew how to approach him after a loss. He didn’t see that changing. Usually he slept on the couch after watching his mistakes.

But he wanted to say goodnight to Ella—even if she was already asleep. And he still needed to talk to Blake and Natalie, especially since they were leaving in the morning.

He walked into his old house and found Blake drinking a beer in the kitchen. Natalie was nowhere in sight. It was obvious his buddy had been waiting for him.

“Hey,” he said heavily. “Sorry you came all this way to see me blow an undefeated season.”

Blake crossed his arms. “I didn’t see it coming either. I would have thrown that pass. A few of the guys texted me and said the same. I won’t tell you not to beat yourself up, but that lineman just made a sweet-ass play. I’ll bet he makes it into the Pro Bowl this year.”

Yeah, DeThomas was one of the top defensive linemen in the league, but still…

“Thanks for saying that. I fucking hate to lose.” He kicked the kitchen island for good measure.

“Good thing you don’t make a habit of it,” Blake said, coming over and smacking him on the back. “Let the loss make the team stronger. You know how Coach Garretty always said losses can be blessings in disguise.”

“Yeah, I know that too,” Jordan said, hanging his head. “I always hated it when Coach said that.”

“But it’s true,” Blake said, rubbing Jordan’s shoulder, which was aching from all the passes he’d thrown in the game—a record number. “You just need to punch something and work it out. You can wallow with Brody. Sam kicked his butt today.”

Sucked for Brody. “I didn’t see the score. What was it?”

“Pretty big margin after all the hype,” Blake said. “31-17.”

“Ouch.” Brody would be throwing things for sure. “At least he wasn’t the one to lose the game.”

Blake cringed. “He had three interceptions, Jordan. Washington’s defense shredded him.”

Okay, that
really
sucked. “On to better topics. How did things go with Grace?”

His friend shrugged. “Chaz is a piece of work, but she stood her ground. He was pushing her about releasing a picture of Ella to the press. She deflected things well, but she’s still not super comfortable with all the stares and interest. We pretty much stayed in our seats the whole time. Once the game started, she relaxed a little. Halftime sucked since there was mingling. You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” he said, wondering how she was faring now.

“She was super upset at the end of the game when you…you know,” Blake said. “There might have been some hair pulling—not that she has much anymore.”

It was nice to hear that Grace had gotten into it. She did like football. She just didn’t like what it entailed for him now. “Did anyone rag her about my interception after the game?”

Blake’s frown was colossal, and Jordan narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Please tell me no one suggested I threw that interception because she was in attendance for the first time this season.”

“You know how it is. People want to blame someone.”

“Fucking great!” he said, crossing to the Sub-Zero and pulling out a sparkling water. “I’m trying to build up our family, and everyone outside of it is doing their damn best to undermine it.”

“She loves you, man,” Blake said with a sigh. “Give her time. That sort of thing takes a lot out of a person. She’s too nice sometimes, and that’s what makes her so special. But she’s an easy target because she doesn’t fight back. Natalie has sharper teeth.”

Yeah, and he didn’t know how to stop that. “Speaking of your wife, where is she?”

“Over at Grace’s place,” Blake said. “Natalie knows what it’s like to deal with one of us after a loss. She wanted to give you a little space.”

Yeah, that’s usually what he needed, but now there was Ella to consider. He wasn’t going to miss saying goodnight to his little girl just because he had a really shitty game. Even if she was asleep already.

“Head on down to see Grace and Ella,” Blake said. “I don’t want to see you back here tonight—even if you’re pissed. I’ll see you before Natalie and I take off in the morning.”

After another man-hug with Blake, Jordan headed to Grace’s house. When he reached the yellow gate, he realized it was the first time he’d used it since their reconciliation. He hoped he wouldn’t be using it much longer. In fact, he wanted to tear it off the hinges right about now.

Since he respected girl time, he opened the front door and called out softly, “Man approaching.” Walking slowly to the den, he peeked around the corner. “Everyone decent?”

“Like I’d be waiting in something scandalous for you,” Natalie said, rising from her place beside Grace on the couch. “Sorry about the loss, Jordan. That was tough. DeThomas came out of nowhere.”

His eyes locked with Grace’s. “Yeah, tough. I know Ella’s out, but I’m going up to see her.”

 
“I’m going to head back to my hubby,” Natalie said. “I’ll see you two in the morning.” She walked over and gave Jordan a bear hug. “I hope you shake it off.”

Grace still hadn’t said a word, so after giving her another long look, he headed up the stairs. Ella was sleeping peacefully when he went into the nursery. He watched her for a while, struggling to repress the image of his opponent scoring the game-winning touchdown. Realizing he was gripping the rungs of the crib, he detoured back downstairs.

Grace was still sitting on the sofa with her hands clenched. “I’m sorry about the loss, Jordan.”

He remained where he was—near the edge of the room. “Me too.”

“I was just telling Natalie I never know what to say to you to help after you lose a game.” She bit her lip. “She told me she used to feel the same way whenever Blake lost.”

Did she really want to talk right now? He wanted to either punch something or spend the whole night watching replays. Anything to ensure it didn’t happen again. “There’s really nothing to say. I threw a pick. I cost us the game. I might have cost us the Super Bowl.”

Looking down in her lap, she nodded. “Do you want space tonight? I can go on up if you want.”

Shit. He could all but hear the resignation in her voice. Their old patterns were emerging right before his eyes. “How do you feel when I shut myself off and sleep on the couch?”

Her head shot up, and from the widening of her eyes, he could tell he’d shocked her. “I feel…pretty darn awful. I wish you’d let me help you.”

Help him? He’d just lost the biggest game of the season. “You can’t change what happened.”

“No,” she said, releasing a long breath. “But I would like you to let me comfort you. When you’re like this…I feel like you want space from me.”

“It’s not you.” Great, now he really felt like shit. “I don’t want to be around
anyone.
It’s hard for someone who doesn’t play to understand.”

“You assume that I don’t know what it’s like to feel disappointment because I haven’t lost a game?” she asked, standing.

“This isn’t disappointment, Grace. This is…agony. I lost us
the game.
Don’t you understand?”

She fisted her hands at her sides. “It’s hard for me to understand because you don’t talk to me about it. You always make me feel like I’m doing something wrong when you’re like this.”

He sucked in a breath. Well, points to her for directness. “I don’t mean for you to feel that way. Look, this is why I don’t talk to you or pretty much anyone after a loss. I’m a jerk. I need to deal with it on my own.”

She stormed toward him. “Fine. Do it on your own. I was only hoping that since I bucked up and went to your game, you might change your routine for once and let me comfort you. Guess I was wrong.”

He listened to her footsteps up the stairs and uttered a dirty curse word he wouldn’t have dared in her presence. Great, she was as mad as he was. This was not what he’d intended. He sank into the couch and wove his hands through his hair, thinking about what she’d said. Comfort him? He didn’t deserve comfort. He’d messed everything up.

Then he realized he hadn’t asked her how she’d felt going to the game. He’d asked Blake, but not her. Was he so wrapped up in his own loss that he couldn’t support her?
 

That didn’t sit well with him. No, not one bit. It hadn’t worked for them in the past, and it wouldn’t work for them now.

He headed upstairs. Her door was closed, a telltale sign. He rapped on the frame and opened the door a crack. She was putting lotion on her legs in bed.

“Can I come in?” he asked in response to her glare. “Grace, I don’t want us repeating old patterns either.”

She nodded, her body stiff as she put the lotion back on her bedside table. She had on a serious mommy don’t-touch-me nightgown that fell below her collar. He sat on the bed and pulled his clothes off. Once he was nude, he slid under the covers.

She lay back against the pillows as well, her body rigid beside him. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Why don’t you start by telling me how you felt going to the game?” he said, steepling his hands behind his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you. I asked Blake for his perspective, but…I didn’t ask you. That was inconsiderate of me, and I’m sorry.”

She rolled onto her side, and he did the same. “I was glad I had friends with me. There were a lot of eyes on me. I didn’t talk to too many people. I hope that’s okay.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to talk to anyone you don’t want to,” he said, reaching a hand out to her across the small distance separating them.

She grabbed it. “I still don’t like Chaz. He’s a slime ball.”

He laughed. “Slime ball? I don’t think I’ve heard you use that since third grade.”

“I haven’t felt like using it since then,” she said, tucking her other hand under her pillow. “I really am sorry you lost.”

The inner raging was quieter now than it had been a few hours before. He no longer wanted to storm through the house and watch replays until his eyes burned. Now he simply felt resigned…and sad. “That makes two of us. I’m sorry you didn’t have a better time.”

She scooted a little closer. “Once the game started, I had a good time. It was…great to see you play again in person. Watching on TV is different. The fans…I’d forgotten how much they love you.”

“Until I lose,” he said, sighing deeply. “I know the team is behind me, but the fans are a fickle lot. You should have heard talk radio.”

“Blake said he didn’t see that lineman coming,” she said softly. “Can’t you take a little comfort in that?”

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