Second Chance: A Military Football Romance

"We're the same age."

"I don't mean like that," she said. She paused as a server took our orders; she asked for a side of fries for the table, just like I knew she would. "I mean, more experienced. Mature."

"You're older, too," I said.

"We're the same age, but you do not, under any circumstance, tell a woman she's old," she told me teasingly.

"You have your own place, you're doing great in school, and you have your shit together," I said, leaving out the part about the guy she was supposed to be seeing. It wasn't serious if she was here with me, and I didn't care about him, anyway. I was trying to get my girl back. I didn't owe him shit.

"I'm glad it looks that way," she said. "I'm just trying to graduate with a degree that I can use one day."

"You're more than halfway there. You'll have your own practice in no time," I told her. She smiled. We had talked about what we wanted to do when we “grew up.” Mine had always been football, not really a lot of Plan B planning in case that one fell through because it wasn't going to. She had toyed with the idea of being a shrink, eventually opening her own practice.

"I'm not in a hurry," she said.

"No?" I asked. She was in a hurry to get out of school, but not to become a professional psychologist. She wanted to travel for a while before settling. I had known that already, but the cross-country road trip she wanted to do was new. I was intrigued; more than that, I wanted to be the one who went with her.

When our food showed up, I was almost pissed that our conversation would slow down. It didn't even matter what we were talking about, I just wanted to keep doing it. All that stupid, giddy excitement you felt at the beginning of a new relationship? I was feeling it now, but it was better because I already loved the person I was talking to. We already had inside jokes, knew each other's wants and secrets. The night was going great. She was laughing and hadn't seemed nervous the entire time.

"I don't want to go home," she said when our plates were gone. I was having my second beer, but she was still nursing the white wine she had gotten when we sat down.

"You want to stop somewhere for drinks first?" I asked.

"Not my own home, I meant," she said. I grinned, pretty sure she was asking me to take her to my place.

"No? Nowhere to go tomorrow?" I asked, teasing her a little.

"Nope. No plans."

"That means you can sleep in."

"If I'm tired enough. Depends on what happens after this," she said. She smirked at me from across the table.

"I'm thinking about heading home."

"Tiff told me you moved out recently. I'd love to see your new place. Can I?" she asked sweetly.

I felt warm in the pit of my stomach. Everything up to this point had gone off without a hitch; her wanting to spend more time together was perfect, more than I had been expecting her to want, honestly. She was warming up fast. It was my turn now. I wanted nothing more than to spend the night with her, but it just wasn't realistic thinking I had an in.

Thinking about her had kept me going when I was away. Her lips, her silky smooth skin, her pussy, I had beat my dick raw wishing it was her when I was gone. She was flirting with me, asking me to take her home, I was so close. I couldn't afford to fuck up.

"If you don't want anything else, we can head home. Sure," I said. She tried to go dutch, but I didn't let her. If this was technically our first date, then I was doing it right. During the walk to the car, she slipped her arm through mine, gently holding my bicep. In the car on the way to my place, she was mostly silent. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was loaded. I could feel it.

I unlocked the door and let her walk in ahead of me when we got to my place.

"Here it is," I said, flipping the lights on. I hadn't bought any more furniture than I’d had at my apartment, so it was pretty bare. If it turned out that I was staying here longer than I thought, I'd get more stuff. For now, I had a couch, recliner, coffee table, and television. I had a bed in my room and that was it.

"Where's all your stuff?" she asked.

"This is it." It felt fucking great having her in my space as she walked around.

"You're a dropout. Why does this still look like a college student's house?" she said, smiling over her shoulder at me.

"It's not much, but it's enough. What? You don't like it?" I asked. It was clean and pretty tidy, but she was a girl, and I'd seen her place. She had decor and color in her space. It wasn't really me. I didn't care to put the place together with any more than the bare essentials. I had felt fine about it till now, but if I was going to be bringing Ron here, I needed her to like it, too.

"Did you pick those drapes yourself?" she asked, pointing to the patterned gray and white drapes I had in the windows.

"They were on sale."