Page 17 of The Rookie's Second Chance

"Trust me, you're not," I assured her, trying to alleviate the tension. "Let's take this to my room. We can talk more privately there."

I could feel Mandy's eyes on me as I said that, her eyebrows drawing together in a slight frown. "Sure," she said, her tone a bit frosty. "I'll clean up here. Don't mind me."

I winced inwardly, picking up on her annoyance. I knew our routine had become a comforting constant in recent days, and my abrupt departure to chat with Kayla was disrupting that.

"Thanks, Mandy. I'll be right back," I said, trying to sound apologetic.

Guiding Kayla down the hall, I couldn't shake the feeling that this evening was becoming more complicated than I had anticipated. Pushing open the door to my room, I gestured for her to step inside.

Kayla's nervous energy was palpable as she scanned the space, her gaze finally settling on a trophy displayed prominently on my bookshelf. It was from our high school days—a proud achievement for most.

"You got the big win," she remarked, her voice distant, fingers tracing the polished gold facade.

I stiffened, old memories pressing down. The cheering crowds, the euphoria of the game, and the stinging realization of what it cost me—all jumbled together. My steps echoed slightly on the hardwood as I approached her, reaching out to reclaim the emblem of my misplaced priorities.

"No, I didn't," I said softly, my voice laden with regret. Without a second thought, I set the trophy face down on my desk and, with a swift movement, knocked it into the garbage bin. The sharp clang it made resonated in the room. "We won the game, but I lost big. I lost you. Every time I looked at that damn trophy, it was a kick in the gut—a reminder of just how much I fucked up."

Kayla's face turned a deep shade of crimson, her eyes darting away, clearly not expecting my admission.

My throat felt tight. "So," I began, trying to redirect the tension, "how did it go with Lexi?"

She offered a non-committal shrug, her voice subdued. "About as well as it could. She's scared shitless, obviously. And Luke? God, he's livid."

I ran a hand through my hair, processing her words. "Then why did you feel the need to tell me all this face-to-face? Could've just texted."

She hesitated, her eyes searching mine with an intensity I hadn't seen in years. "Maybe," she said, her voice a soft whisper, "I just needed an excuse."

My heart rate quickened, each beat echoing loudly in my ears. "An excuse for what?"

Without another word, Kayla closed the distance between us, her fingers lightly grazing the back of my neck, sending electric jolts down my spine. Her gaze was locked onto mine, piercing, challenging. She stood on tiptoes, her breath warm against my face, making my skin tingle with anticipation. I was lost in the moment, every wall I'd built over the years threatening to crumble.

Then, with a sudden surge of boldness, she pressed her lips against mine. A rush of emotions swirled inside me—a mixture of surprise, elation, and regret. The world faded as her lips met mine, and everything else ceased to matter.

I pulled back, a rush of unexpected emotion flooding me. "Are you sure about this?" I questioned, my gaze probing her face for any hint of regret.

She looked away for a second, biting her lip, seemingly in contemplation. "Honestly? No," she admitted, locking eyes with me. "But I've been craving to feel your lips on mine. To see if that spark is still there."

"And?" My voice was hoarse with anticipation, every fiber of my being alert to her reaction.

She gave a faint smirk, her eyes gleaming. "And it's just as intoxicating as it always was."

A rush of warmth surged through me. My fingers traced the side of her face, delicately brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Closing the gap between us, I gently pressed my lips to hers, trying to convey all the unspoken emotions swirling inside me. I felt her initial hesitation, a slight stiffness, but with every gentle move I made, she relaxed, eventually reciprocating with fervor.

Without even realizing, I'd picked her up, my hands finding the small of her back, pulling her close. I set her gently on the bed, our bodies perfectly aligned, lips never parting. The rush of sensations, memories, and unspent years washed over me.

"God, Kayla, I missed you. No one's ever felt this right," I murmured, pulling back just enough to see her reaction.

She let out a soft whimper, her fingers tangling in my hair.

"Are you okay?" Concern filled me, thinking I might've been too forward.

"Yes," she whispered, catching her breath. "It's just... no one has ever felt like this for me either." She paused, swallowing hard. "Actually, Jake, there hasn’t been anyone else."

I blinked, momentarily taken aback. Memories of our younger selves came flooding back, of nights spent under the stars, of whispered secrets. "You mean...?" I hesitated, realizing what she was implying.

She gave a small nod, her cheeks flushing. "Yes, Jake. I never... went all the way with anyone."

A swirl of emotions overcame me—surprise, disbelief, and an overwhelming sense of honor. "Hey," I said gently, cupping her face. "There's no pressure, okay? Whatever you're comfortable with."

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