That Ring: A Second Chance Sports Romance (That Boy® Book 5)

“So?” I say to Jennifer when she finally answers the phone on Saturday afternoon.

I’ve been trying to reach her since yesterday, and she didn’t call or text me back. And I will admit, I’m a little irritated about it.

Okay, a lot irritated.

“So, what?” she replies.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls or texts? Did you get back together with Troy? Have some amazing reunion?”

“Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. I have a lot to tell you, but I’m actually kind of busy right now. Can I call you later?”

“Sure. Why not?” I say, slamming the phone down and cursing.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Damon says, coming into the family room from the shambles that is currently our kitchen.

Last week, the workers basically gutted the room after I decided that it was silly not to replace all the cabinets, as they were fifteen years old. It also gave Jadyn the opportunity to slightly tweak the layout by taking down a wall separating it from the family room and adding an additional island. I will admit though, Jadyn gave them a tight schedule, and so far, everything she put on the list of what would be done and who would be here each day has happened.

Everything was moved out of the living room, dining room, kitchen, and family room. The floor has all been replaced with the same wood we did throughout the rest of the house and is covered with brown paper to protect it during the remodel. The walls have all been painted in what Jadyn refers to as a light French gray, and the trim is a bright white. The new white cabinets were installed this week as well as the deep blue–painted islands and the industrial wood and metal hood that sold me on the design. Today, they brought out the honed Calacatta marble countertops. I love their matte finish and low sheen. Everything in our renovation has been about less shine and more about natural beauty. Tomorrow, they will be installing the marble tile backsplash with ribbons of mother-of-pearl that Jennifer thought was so gorgeous that she gasped over it.

“Nothing,” I say.

“Are you mad at Jennifer?” he asks astutely. “Did you break up?”

“No, but I’ve barely spoken to her. And I know she went to see her ex yesterday.”

“And you think they got back together?”

“I don’t know, son. I hope not.”

“I don’t think they did, Dad.” He pulls his phone from his back pocket, presses a couple of buttons, and hands it to me. “This is supposedly from last night.”

I look down and see a photo of Troy with his arm wrapped around a redhead, coming out of a club. I skim the article. It mentions that Jennifer is nowhere to be seen.

I can’t help it. I let out a sigh of relief.

“How did you happen to see this?”

“Oh, I have a Google alert set so that whenever something is posted about Troy or Jennifer, I get notified,” he says proudly.

“Why would you do that?”

“So, I can be the first to know. I have one set for everyone in our family, too. Still amazes me no one knows about you and Mom’s divorce.”

“You shouldn’t believe what you read in the tabloids, Damon.”

“I know, Dad. But I still want to know what they are saying. And when the news does hit about you and Jennifer, I just want to be prepared.” He shoves the majority of a cold Pop-Tart in his mouth. “You really like her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. I asked her to move in with us.”

“Really? That’s cool.”

“She said no.”

“Bummer. Why? She not like you back?”

“She doesn’t want to live with me until I’m officially divorced.”

“She thinks she’s going to set a bad example for me and Dani, huh? Dad, we’re not little kids. We know all about sex and relationships and all that stuff. You don’t have to pretend like you don’t have sex with her. If she were my girlfriend, I’d have sex with her all. The. Time. Dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” I admonish. “It’s disrespectful.”

“All. The. Time. Sir,” he repeats in a sassy tone.

I swear, he is just like I was at his age. My mother says it’s my payback.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Me? Dad,” he says, rolling his eyes, “I have two, possibly three chicks on the line. I’m sort of talking to two of them, but I like the third one the most. She acts like she doesn’t like me.”

“Maybe because she knows you’re talking to two other girls.”

“Oh shit. You might have a point—I mean, shoot. Golly dang it. Or should I be like Uncle Phillip and say, What the foxtrot?”

“Damon, sit down.”

He looks up at me. He’s gotten taller this past year. Almost up to my chin.

“We’ve had discussions about condom usage. You heard me, right?”

“Don’t tap it unless you wrap it. That’s what Chase says.”

I nearly choke. “Have either you or Chase, um, needed to wrap it?”

“No, not yet.”

“Do you think you will tell me when you are considering it?”

“Probably not. It’s a personal thing, Dad.”

“I see.”

“You’re freaking out a little, aren’t you?”

“Yes, kind of.”

“Well, since I don’t have anything to tell yet, let’s talk about you. How old were you when you first had sex?”

I rub my face, feeling stressed.

“It’s okay, Dad. It’s a natural thing. You know, when you’re in love and all,” he says, repeating almost word for word what I told him when we last discussed it.

“I was in high school,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t ask for anything more specific because, technically, it was the summer before high school. Madelyn Rivers. Long-legged brunette cheerleader. Two years older than me.

“Summer before high school is what Uncle Phillip said. He was older. I’m going to wait until I’m older, I’ve decided. Uncle Phillip says to enjoy just kissing girls while I’m young. That sex complicates things. Plus, I’ve got goals. College. First pick in the draft. I’m also thinking of taking guitar lessons with Chase. Rock stars are our backup plan. Although Mom suggested that I start modeling. What do you think about that?”

I want to laugh out loud. Only my son would consider rock star as his backup plan. “I think if it interests you, you should pursue it. I always tell you that about life.”

“Hmm,” he says. “You’re right. I should stop talking to Heather and Brittany and start pursuing Brandy. I should sign up for guitar lessons and tell Mom to find some hot model to show me her ways.”

This time, I do laugh. “Sounds like a plan.”

“What do you think of the way the house is turning out?” he asks.

“I really like it.”

“Me, too. It’s more comfortable. Like the feel of a perfectly worn baseball glove. Auntie Jay let me pick out the new sectional couch for the family room. She took Chase and me to sit on it. Test it out. Ohmigosh, Dad, you are going. To. Love. It. It’s the most comfortable couch in the world. Chaise at one end. We’re going to watch a lot of football on it. And I picked out big leather ottomans instead of a coffee table, so you can put your feet up and just chill.” He holds up a finger when I start to say something. “And don’t worry; you know how I am about my snacks. We got these really cool trays with handles that we can load up in the kitchen and put on the ottomans. Best of both worlds.”

“I can’t wait to see it. What color is it?”

“The one we sat on was white, but Auntie Jay had a bunch of swatches. I think the ones she liked were a gray and a light teal color. She said she’s going to surprise us.” His phone buzzes, and he glances down at it. “Oh, hey, I gotta go.”

“Where are you going?”

“Pick-up flag football game.”

“All right. Actually, I need to get going, too. I’ll see you when I get back from my game.”

Damon gives me a hug. “I can tell your mind is on Jennifer, but remember what you always tell me. ‘Once you’re on the field, that’s where your focus is.’ You need to beat Washington if you want home-field advantage in the playoffs.”

I ruffle his hair. “We’re definitely going to win.”

But he’s right.

I need to focus on something other than why Jennifer is too busy to talk to me.

Jennifer

“Sorry,” I say to my realtor, Erik, as I hang up the phone from Danny’s call. Although I could hear the irritation in his voice, I didn’t want to talk to him with someone listening. I have too much to say. So much I want to tell him.

“What did you think of that one?” he asks as we get back in his vehicle.

“Still too small. Not enough backyard space.”

“First, you wanted to lease in Malibu, and now, you want to buy in Pacific Palisades. What’s with the sudden change?” he asks me. And it’s a valid question.

“I decided that I want more of a forever home. Eventually, maybe a family.”

“Are you going to adopt or something?”

“I haven’t really gotten that far yet, but yes, something. And I want more privacy. I should be able to swim naked in the pool if I want.”

“All right. I have two more places up here to show you. And I have a new build in Beverly Hills that might interest you. It’s about double your budget though.”

“I’m not that worried about budget at this point. I just want to find the right house.”

Erik smiles as he pulls up to another house. I’m pretty sure I just said the magic words.

“No,” I say.

“No what?” he replies.

“You can tell just by looking at the outside that it’s too modern.”

“Every house you’ve ever lived in has been modern, Jennifer.”

“Yes, but I told you, I want cozy. Warm. A happy place.”

“Okay, we need to get on the same page here. Everything I lined up for you to look at is modern. They have the bedrooms you like, the ocean view, and backyards. Now, you want a completely different style home?”

“Yes. That’s what I’m saying.” I take his iPad from the console. “Do me a favor. Just pull up all the houses in this area and let me take a look at them. That way, I won’t waste your time.”

“You’re not wasting my time, Jennifer. My job is to help you find you your dream home. I just have to be clear on what that is, so I show you the right properties.” He hands me back the iPad with listings on it.

I scroll past eight listings and then stop. “This one.”

“Do you want to look at the pictures of the inside first?”

“No, I can tell by the front of the house that it’s going to feel right. And I want to experience it for the first time in person.”

“Let’s see if it fits your criteria,” he says, taking the iPad back from me and checking the listing. “Seven bedrooms, eight baths. Pool. Views of both the Pacific Ocean and the Santa Monica Conservancy. It’s also a new build, which should mean no one is living there. Let me call the listing agent and see if we can get in.”

“Drive there while you talk. I want to see it.”

He does as he was told, and when we pull up, I just know it’s the one. I haven’t stepped foot in it, but it’s love at first sight. The outside is dressed in cream-colored shakes with copper gutters adding contrast. Combined with the thick white trim around the windows, it reminds me of a house you might see in Nantucket. The kind of beach house generations visit year after year.

“All right,” Erik says. “We got the okay to check it out.”

“Are there any other offers?”

“Not right now.”

“Good, because I’m going to buy this house today.”

He chuckles. “Let’s go see the inside before we write up an offer.”

He unlocks the house, and I follow him in.

“Not a very spectacular entrance,” he says. “Interesting how the staircase is on the back side.”

But all I see is beauty. Thick white crown molding, gorgeous wainscoting, beautiful hand-hewn wood floor, lots of light, and comfortable furnishings. It reminds me a little of my room at Jadyn’s house. Cozy. Perfect.

The rest of the house doesn’t disappoint. From the large white kitchen and informal living area to the master bedroom with private balcony. There’s an awesome hangout space at the top of the stairs for kids, a home theater, billiards room, wine cellar, and private gym.

“Still like it?” Erik asks as I wander around in a daze littered with the dream of filling this place with kids, family, and friends. And a dog. I’m definitely getting a dog someday.

“Let’s go outside,” I say, not verbally committing just yet. “Oh my.”

I take in the cerulean-blue infinity pool and spa with an amazing one-hundred-eighty-degree view of hills and ocean. There’s grass for children to run around, an outdoor kitchen and pool house, and what might be my favorite spot of all, a large deck on the cliff with glass railings set with couches and chairs like an outdoor living room. I can see why they put it here. It has the most panoramic vista of the lot.

“I’ll take it. I’d like it as is. Fully furnished. Whatever it costs. All-cash offer. Monday morning closing.”

“As your agent, I can’t let you pay full price for this. It’s been on the market for eighty days. We’ll offer ninety percent of the list price, including the furniture.”

“Do your thing, but I want to close on Monday.”

“What’s the rush?”

“I have somewhere else I need to be after that.”

“All righty. Let me make another call.”

He paces across the grass, talking and gesturing. I just feel at peace. Like I finally have a place in the world.

But yet, there’s something in my brain that is telling me that I need to go home.

And I just realized home is not in California anymore.

It is wherever Danny is.

“He accepted our offer,” Erik says to me. He hands me a card with an address written on the back. “Meet me here on Monday morning at eight.”

I throw myself at him, give him a hug, and then start crying. “Thank you.”

Once I’m back at the hotel, I try to reach Danny, but he doesn’t answer his phone.