Fourth Down (Portland Pioneers 1)

“You don’t want to have a say?” Autumn asks.

“It’s not that,” Quinn says. “Nola and I are on the same page; we agree on what we want. It’s the timing. She wants to graduate from college, and I respect that. And we also have to make sure I’m not on tour because I want to take her on a honeymoon. I don’t want her to feel like my career is in the way of having a traditional wedding. The spring to fall thing is a weather thing. We don’t want to do it when it’s too hot or during storm season.”

“Autumn knows all about the weather,” I say as I elbow her gently. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I don’t know what I said wrong, but clearly something. The three of us continue to talk until Autumn steps away to answer her phone, and Quinn excuses himself, leaving me feeling a bit awkward. I try not to watch Autumn as she looks at her phone, but I can’t take my eyes off of her. She seems upset or maybe even sad. Autumn pockets her phone and continues to stare out into the darkness. I wait a long moment before walking over to her.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

She startles and looks at me. “Yes, things are good.” Autumn rises onto her toes and kisses me quickly, and then she shies away. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?”

Autumn looks toward the sliding glass door and then back at me. “I don’t know,” she says as she shrugs. “I feel like you wouldn’t want your teammates seeing us like that.”

She’s right, but probably not for the reasons she’s thinking. My teammates are a bunch of adolescent men who like to tease and say stupid shit. “Don’t worry about them.” I pull her long braid forward just so I can touch her hair. “Roxy wants to grow her hair long so she can do this to her hair.”

“I can do it now to her hair. It’s very easy.”

“She’d like that.”

“Do you want to get out here?” she asks. “Go to my place for a bit?”

Twenty-Five

Autumn

Julius and I walk back to our complex. I have my arm wrapped around his, and my head rests on his shoulder whenever we have to stop at the crosswalk. It’s then that he kisses my forehead or rests his head on top of mine. These moments are sweet and tender but a prelude to what’s coming or at least what I hope will happen when we get back to my place. I’m past ready to take the next step with Julius. I don’t mind the kissing part of our relationship. In fact, I love it. But I want to feel his strong hands on my body, tugging and pulling at my heated flesh. When he pulled me onto his lap earlier, I thought I was going to lose my mind. I was ready to become the locker room cliché.

When we arrive at our apartment building, I let go of him. Everyone inside knows who he is, and I don’t want rumors to start. Only, Julius isn’t having any of it and pulls me to his side and places his arm around my shoulder. I like this show of affection, out in public, where people are watching. It’s odd because I’ve never been the type to flaunt anything, mostly due to my job, but right now, I want his arm around me. I want people to know he’s getting into the elevator with me. I want them to assume. I want people to see how lucky I am because I do feel blessed.

Inside the elevator, Julius presses the button for my floor. As much as I’d love to go to his place, I suspect that his children are home, and I don’t want him to feel awkward. I know I want more privacy than what his place can offer right now. The bell chimes, signaling we’ve arrived on the fifth floor. My heartbeat picks up the pace and starts thumping harder. Julius takes my hand in his and steps out of the elevator. I fall in step behind him as he walks us toward my place. When he reaches my door, for a moment, I wish he had a key and could let us in. Instead, I have to let go of his hand to pull my key out of my pocket. I step in front of Julius and start to slide the key into the lock. His hands are on my hips. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my neck.

“I’ve never seen a woman carry only one key on her keyring,” he quietly says as one hand glides from my hip to my stomach and the other rests on the waistband of my jeans.