Rumor Has It I'm Dating the Football Captain

Chapter 126: Chapter 126: Let’s Get Married

Zoya unlocked her apartment door and stepped inside.

She dropped her keys into the small ceramic bowl in the entryway and took off her coat. The living room was softly lit. Jackson was already there, sitting casually on her modern gray sofa.

He didn’t look smug. He wasn’t smiling like a man who had just won a massive victory in a dim lounge suite. He just looked completely steady.

Zoya walked over and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa.

For a long minute, the apartment was completely quiet. They just looked at each other, letting the heavy reality of the night settle between them.

"I invited you here," Zoya finally said, her voice quiet but entirely steady, "because I am completely tired of pretending I don’t want you."

Jackson watched her. He didn’t tease her.

"I’m tired of pretending too," Jackson replied honestly.

There was still a strange, heavy awkwardness in the air. Neither of them actually knew what their relationship was right now. They weren’t college kids sneaking around the library anymore. They were adults with massive careers and seven years of complicated history between them.

Jackson leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He looked at her closely.

"Have you had dinner?" Jackson asked.

Zoya blinked, slightly thrown by the sudden change in topic. She shook her head.

"No," Zoya answered.

Jackson stood up. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his dark shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.

"I’ll cook," Jackson decided.

Zoya raised an elegant eyebrow. "You can cook?"

"I survived seven years without you," Jackson said, walking toward her open kitchen. "I learned things."

"That was unnecessarily dramatic," Zoya pointed out.

Jackson opened her refrigerator and looked inside. "You missed me."

"Don’t push it," Zoya warned, though the edge in her voice was completely gone.

Jackson actually made something incredibly simple but completely perfect. He found some chicken, fresh vegetables, and pasta, and went to work.

Zoya sat on one of the high stools at the kitchen island. She rested her chin in her hand and just watched him.

He moved around her kitchen easily. It completely reminded her of the old Jackson she used to know, the boy who used to steal her snacks while she studied. Except, he was much more mature now. His shoulders were broader. His movements were confident and completely assured.

He plated the food and set a dish in front of her.

They ate together right there at the kitchen island. The conversation became surprisingly, wonderfully comfortable.

They talked about the corporate contract they were fighting over. They talked about the youth academy kids. They even joked about a few old university memories without the heavy weight of sadness ruining the mood.

At one point, Zoya took a sip of her water and realized something entirely terrifying.

She wasn’t mentally drafting her next sentence. She wasn’t building a legal argument. She didn’t feel like she needed to completely control the direction of the conversation.

She simply felt comfortable.

After dinner, they moved back to the living room.

The atmosphere became much quieter. The sharp banter faded into a comfortable, heavy silence.

They sat on the sofa. Zoya kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Jackson caught her looking. He turned his head.

"What?" Jackson asked.

"Nothing," Zoya said quickly, looking straight ahead.

A few seconds passed. Zoya slowly shifted her weight. She moved a few inches closer to him on the cushions.

Jackson looked at her again. "Zoya."

She didn’t answer him. She just looked at his mouth, and then up into his dark eyes. She was clearly trying to communicate something without actually having to say the vulnerable words out loud. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to close the distance.

Jackson understood exactly what she was asking for.

But instead of taking the bait, Jackson leaned forward.

He didn’t kiss her lips. He gently pressed his mouth against her forehead.

Then, he completely stood up.

"I’ll go," Jackson said calmly.

Zoya stared up at him in absolute shock.

"You’re leaving?" Zoya asked.

"Yes," Jackson nodded. He grabbed his keys from the coffee table and headed toward the front door.

Zoya watched him for three seconds before her brain finally caught up. She stood up quickly, marched across the room, and grabbed his arm.

"Why are you leaving?" Zoya demanded. Her voice was laced with genuine confusion.

Jackson stopped walking. He turned toward her. He looked down at her hand gripping his arm, and then he looked directly into her eyes.

"Because I don’t want to sleep with a woman who isn’t mine," Jackson stated simply.

Zoya’s fingers completely froze.

She slowly released his arm. Her hand fell back to her side. She stared at him, trying to process the absolute certainty in his voice.

"Since when did you think like that?" Zoya asked quietly.

Jackson looked at her incredibly seriously.

"Since we ended the arrangement seven years ago," Jackson answered.

He didn’t sound angry. He just sounded like a man who knew exactly what he wanted out of his life.

"That arrangement taught me something, Zoya," Jackson explained softly. "Back then, I wanted you badly enough to accept absolutely any rules you gave me. I hid when you told me to hide. I kept my distance when you told me to keep my distance."

Zoya swallowed hard. The guilt of how strictly she had treated him back in college flared in her chest.

"But seven years gave me a lot of time to figure out what I actually want," Jackson continued. "I don’t want another arrangement. I don’t want stolen nights in private suites. I don’t want something we have to hide from our colleagues."

He took a tiny step closer. His dark eyes locked entirely onto hers.

"I realized I only want you," Jackson said. "Completely."

Zoya’s sharp, guarded expression completely softened. Her heart gave a massive, painful thump.

Then, without missing a single beat, Jackson dropped the absolute biggest bomb of her entire life.

"Let’s get married," Jackson said.

Total, absolute silence fell over the entryway.

Zoya blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Her brilliant, legally trained brain completely crashed.

"Marriage?" Zoya choked out.

Jackson nodded calmly. "Yes."

To her absolute horror, Zoya actually felt her cheeks burn. She was blushing. She never blushed.

"Are you dumb?" Zoya blurted out, her voice rising in pitch.

Jackson looked genuinely confused. "What?"

"That’s... too fast!" Zoya argued, waving her hands in the air.

"We have known each other for years, Zoya," Jackson pointed out logically.

"That is entirely not the point!" Zoya practically yelled.

She quickly studied his face. She searched his eyes for any sign of a joke. She looked for the teasing smirk he always wore when he was trying to annoy her.

It wasn’t there.

He wasn’t joking. He wasn’t trying to pressure her into a corner. He was standing in her entryway, genuinely, casually proposing marriage to her.

That realization somehow made her even more incredibly flustered. She let out a loud, frustrated groan and covered her face with her hands.

"I won’t accept," Zoya mumbled into her palms.

Jackson’s thick eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"You won’t?" Jackson asked.

Zoya dropped her hands and glared at him.

"You didn’t even propose properly!" Zoya argued defensively.

Jackson paused.

He stood there in the entryway. He actually thought about her argument for a few seconds. He rubbed his chin.

Then, he nodded.

"Ah. You’re right," Jackson agreed easily.

Zoya waited. She held her breath.

Surely, he was going to do something romantic now. Maybe he was going to drop down on one knee. Maybe he was going to grab her hands and say something incredibly meaningful and sweeping.

Instead, Jackson simply shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Alright then," Jackson said casually. "See you."

He turned around and started walking directly toward the front door.

Zoya completely stopped functioning.

She stared at his broad back.

Did he just...

Jackson reached the front door and grabbed the handle.

Zoya’s mouth literally fell open.

Is he completely out of his mind?

She followed him with her wide eyes. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move her feet.

Jackson pulled the heavy door open.

Then, he stopped. He glanced back at her over his shoulder.

A tiny, incredibly annoying, absolutely beautiful smile appeared on his face.

"Goodnight, Zoya," Jackson murmured.

He stepped out into the hallway, and the door clicked shut behind him.

Zoya stood completely alone in the middle of her entryway. She was entirely speechless. Her heart was racing, her cheeks were burning, and her brilliant mind was completely empty.

She stared at the closed wooden door for a full minute.

"I hate that man," Zoya muttered to the empty apartment.

A long beat passed.

She slowly reached up and touched her fingertips to her own lips.

"...I really don’t."

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