Sugarplums and Second Chances

Chapter Eight

Chase spiraled a football in Drew's backyard Monday afternoon. Drew was a local firefighter, and today was his day off. Lauren, his wife, was inside with their baby, William. Courtney had stayed back at Chase's house to call a Realtor in Indianapolis. He didn't like it. But what could he say? Don't leave. You don't need the job. She wasn't his to keep.

"How is Courtney?" Drew asked.

"She's good. Sad, though. First Christmas without her mom."

"Must be tough on her." Drew tossed the ball back to him. "I always liked her. She was low key. No drama. Sweet."

"That's her." Sweet as the sugar cookies he'd helped her bake a few days ago. He sighed. It would be hard when she left.

"You look like you just lost the playoffs. What's up? Is she getting on your nerves? The stay a little too long?"

"No, not even close." He threw the ball to Drew. "It's complicated."

"Oh, I see." Drew smiled as if he had a secret.

"What?"

"You like her."

"No, I don't." He chucked the ball to Drew, who caught it easily. No surprise there since they'd been college roommates and both played on the football team.

"Yes, you do."

The ball crushed into Chase's chest. He wanted to spike it at Drew's head.

"Fine, I like her, but it's not like I can do anything about it."

"Why not?" Drew opened his hands. "Are you going to throw that back or not?"

He sailed it to Drew. "You know why."

"JJ?" He looked taken aback. "He's been gone for, what, three years?"

"It's more than JJ."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Is it her? She's not into you? Doesn't want a relationship?"

Chase caught Drew's pass with a grunt. Did Courtney want a relationship? She didn't seem to mind being around him. Never flinched or scooted away from contact. They still talked for hours every day. But she was dead set on leaving, so he'd have to say a relationship wasn't on her radar.

"My priority is Wyatt." He didn't put enough power behind the ball, and it landed a few feet in front of Drew.

"Yeah, so?"

"And I went to prison."

"Um, I hate to break it to you, but she knows about the whole prison thing. Considering she wrote to you every week, I'd guess it isn't a deal breaker for her."

"It's a deal breaker for me."

Drew loped over to him. "It shouldn't be. You're free now. Keep it in the past."

"I'm not keeping it in the past." His voice rose. "I'm keeping it front and center so I don't make the same mistakes. When I think about how I hurt you, missed all those years with Wyatt, let my team down..." He hadn't gotten upset like this in a long time. He wanted to pump his fists in the air and shout.

Drew put his hand on his shoulder. "You've already apologized to me and Wyatt multiple times. You do put Wyatt first—have for years. I don't know why you're still punishing yourself. You're a good man. I mean, you took Treyvon in and you're paying for his college. It's over. Let it go."

Was it ever really over? Sometimes Chase woke up expecting to be on a narrow mattress, staring at the bars to his cell. The cycle of prison life had become so ingrained, it had taken him months not to automatically work out, read, and eat at exact times.