Laney: Prove it.
Theo: I hate Thanksgiving.
Laney: I miss you, too. It’s a good thing we got together when we did. The public is starting to SHIP us.
Theo: Yeah?
Laney: They’re pretty much demanding it. Do you ever check the page?
Theo: No. I’ll do better.
Laney: The wedding video went viral thanks to you.
Theo: Crushing it. Proud of you.
Laney: US. It wouldn’t be the same without you.
Pause…
Theo: You’re only an hour and a half away. I can come home early.
Laney: You can’t, your parents’ anniversary party is this weekend. And your sisters keep threatening to come down. Give them a good dose of you so they won’t threaten you anymore.
Theo: You can come here.
Laney: Can’t leave Momma alone. It’s our first real holiday without Gran. We’re going to Black Friday in a few hours.
Theo: I just shed a tear for your mother. Like a real one.
Theo sent a photo.
Laney: Stop. I just totally got sad.
Theo: Adulting can suck it.
Laney: I miss you, too.
Theo: Happy Thanksgiving, Laney
Laney: Happy Thanksgiving, Houseman. (blows kiss emoji)
#turkeyday #stuffed #facetimeselfie #livingourrealestlife #imalittlebitcountryhesawholelotrockandroll
Theo
Yell night. Another Grand tradition. The band’s required to show up to the pre-game pep rally and I must admit with my new nighttime distraction, I’m finding it harder and harder not to skip out. I have a thousand other things I’d rather be doing than playing for half a stadium full of die-hard Ranger fans. Like spelling the alphabet between Laney’s legs while she begs for mercy. While Troy and the rest of his team stand on the field facing the bleachers next to the ring leaders, I sit with Zach and the rest of the band at the top row of our section, belting out old chants in between playing fight songs to gear up for one of the last games of the season.
The Rangers had a good run but missed a shot at a championship due to their last few losses. And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m happy about it because it means I get to spend more time with Laney, rather than the next few weeks practicing day and night for a college bowl half-time show.
When I had texted her earlier, she told me she was shopping tonight for a red Toyota, and so I hadn’t asked her to come. I know she needs the money, and I could never guilt her for paying her own way just to fulfill the tradition of a midnight kiss. I’m not at all comfortable with the dangerous part of her job, but I know if I try to say anything at this point, it will pose the question of what rights I have, or if I have any say at all. I’m not about to stick my head under that guillotine, yet. We’re way too new. Still, I hate it. My first instinct has always been to protect her, even though she’d refuse it.
Though her schedule is insane, she’s attended most of the home games to support me, with or without Devin, which I know is a big step for her. More often than not, we skip the parties or crowds of any kind to spend all of our time together, alone.
No part of me feels like I’ve been missing out on anything.
Except for tonight, when the lights go out.
The top of the hour is fast approaching, as I face facts that this will be yet another Yell night that I don’t have anyone to kiss when the clock strikes midnight. The time when we’re granted with a full minute to put our relationship status on public display. Some part of me is dying to claim her, but I know better than to back her into that corner, not when dealing with a gypsy heart.
This is one Grand tradition that can make a lone Ranger feel like a bag of dicks, which has always been the case for me. Nora never bothered to come to a single Yell night, her Friday nights with her girls far too important to miss than a show of devotion for me.
But the truth of the matter is, I’m not alone. And I don’t need to take part in this tradition to know it. I’ve got a pint-sized terrorist in boots who is constantly reminding me we’re in, whatever it is we have going, together.
Zach blows warm breath in his hands as we freeze our balls off in wait for another cue to play.
“Lindsey here tonight?”
“She came last time. I told her it was too cold and to stay home.”
We both stand and shout our part as the Yell leaders start another chant before resuming our seats.
“Laney isn’t here?”
“She had to work.”
“How’s that going, man?”
“Good, really good.”
“Getting serious?”
“We don’t talk about it.”
“You mean you haven’t asked.”
“I’m not about to screw with something that’s not broken.”
“Well I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but prying eyes have been on us since we sat down.”
“What?”
“Check it out, nine o’clock.” I look to our left to see two sets of curious eyes watching us from the stands below. “Laney is making you look good, man, if it doesn’t work out with her, just know you have options.”
One of the girls gives me a wave, and I nod, giving a polite smile before averting my eyes.
“See what I mean?”
“Not interested.”
He jabs me with an elbow. “So, it is serious.”
“It’s new. We’re doing it our way. I’m not going to fuck it up by acting needy. Besides, she doesn’t work like that. She would rather choke before admitting she needs anyone.”
“I hear you. Lindsey was a little dick bitter when we got together. It took time to get her out of it.”
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’ll tell you this much, she’s nothing like Nora. I don’t have to wonder if this thing is important to her because she looks out for me. She listens to me and my music, asks me about my day, and gives a damn about my moods.”
“Nothing like Nora.”
“Right,” I nod. “She works so incredibly hard, all the time, around the clock, in school, at home. She makes time for me even though she’s constantly running, but she makes it look easy even when I know she’s stressed out. I respect her. She doesn’t take advantage of me the way Nora did. It’s different with her.”
“Good for you, man.”
We both stand and yell when prompted and then raise our instruments to play the fourth of our five-song set.
Back in our seats, Zach turns to me.
“You have plans for after?”
Just as I’m about to answer, the lights go out and I’m seized from behind with an arm around my neck. The smell of citrus and mint fills my nose as a husky voice whispers in my ear. “Houseman, in the stands with the saxophone. Mystery solved.”
Turning in her hold, I ignore the catcalls filling the stadium as soft lips find mine, and she sinks into me when I eagerly meet her kiss, swiping my tongue along her lower lip just as she opens for me. Greedy, I push the dangling sax on my chest to the side before pulling her flush against me. Seizing her in my hands, I thrust my tongue into her mouth, kissing her thoroughly, the sensation of her moan vibrating against my tongue.
We’re still locked in the kiss when the lights come back on, and she pulls away, her eyes darting around in surprise. I follow her gaze to see a startling amount of cell phones poised in our direction, taking pictures. “I suppose the cat’s fully out of the bag now.”
“I don’t give a damn,” I say, stepping over the row of seats separating us, so we’re alone in the aisle above. I pull her to me and full-on kiss her again. When I close the kiss, she draws my freezing hands from her face to warm them between her own gloved hands. She spots Zach over my shoulder and greets him. “Hey Zach.”
“Hey Laney,” He greets back with a shit-eating grin before turning back toward the band to give us some privacy.
Laney looks up at me through dark lashes.
“That was my first kiss on Yell night, Housema
n, and I wanted it to be with you.”
“It was mine, too.”
“Really?” A pride-filled smile beams from her as she rubs my hands between hers. She looks beautiful bundled up in a pink North Face jacket and beanie. Her glossy, dark-brown locks twisted in long twin braids and resting on her shoulders, her cheeks rosy from the cold. “You take good care of me,” I tell her as she warms my hands.
“Do I?”
“Yeah, you do, and I’m coming up with ways to thank you for it right now.”
Were in the midst of over-the-top PDA but no one is paying attention to us due to the bullhorn announcement of the all-stars for the year.
“I think I may know a way you can thank me,” she murmurs. “Mom is working tonight.” Her voice drops to a husky whisper. “Want to meet me in the chemistry lab in an hour?”
“Fuck yes,” I whisper back, “be naked.”
“No issues there.” She leans in again, her eyes pooling. “The lab tech told me today that if you want, we’re safe to play with gloves off,” she grins sheepishly, “that is if you want.”
My dick jerks inside my jeans as she weighs my reaction.
I lift one of her braids in my hand, rubbing her silky strands between my fingers. “Oh, I want. And don’t take these out.”
“Why?”
I lean in close. “Because the minute I get to the lab, I’m going to reenact the fantasy I’m dreaming up right now to show my appreciation for that kiss.”
Her mouth parts and I lean in and gently suck her bottom lip before pulling away with nothing but intent in my eyes. “I’ll give you one guess where my next kiss will be.”
“Theo,” she sputters out, her forehead pressed against mine, breaths coming out in cloudy puffs from her swollen lips.
“That’s enough, Mr. Houseman,” my band director says bursting our bubble from where he stands at the bottom of our section.
“Young lady, I don’t know how you got in here, but this is reserved for band members only.”
“Sorry about that, sir.” She turns to me giggling. “Whoops.”
“Go on,” I say not giving a shit about the attention we’ve drawn, or the lecture I’m sure to get, but drawing on the affection of the girl who’s standing in front of me. “I’m right behind you.”
It’s then she says three words that strike me right in the chest. “It’s a date.”
Theo
“Up, Bugle Boy,” Kevin spouts kicking the end of my bed. “It’s D-day.”
“Kevin, for the last time, I don’t play the fucking bugle. Get the hell out of my bedroom.”
“Punishment starts in an hour. You signed up. We leave in twenty. Dress for mud.”
I reach for whatever is on my dresser and throw it at him and hear a satisfying “ugh” come out of him when I nail him with my Magic Eight Ball.
“You pussing out?”
“Yes,” I say simply. And then think better of it and rise to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m up.”
Kevin gives me a lopsided grin. “I’m almost proud of you, precious.”
“Get out before I make you spell precious.”
“Don’t piss me off, you’re going to need me. Clock’s ticking. Put your panties on.”
The thirsty look in his eyes instills a small amount of fear. “Out.”
He shuts the door behind him as I prepare myself for battle. I’m smaller than ninety-nine percent of the guys doing camp today. When I signed up weeks ago, I was mildly buzzed and feeling invincible partly due to the girl, okay mostly due to the girl. Some part of me knows I did it to try and prove something to the masculine part of myself; while the more sober, more intelligent part of me knows it’s suicide to try and fight my way through a mile-long booby trap with dozens of blood-thirsty athletes.
Once dressed, and after putting any lingering Napoleon complex aside, I put my game face on and head downstairs where a few guys wait, draining Red Bull. Troy greets me with a fresh can.
“Amp up, you’ll need it.”
“That shit is poison.”
“Drink it,” he says with a hint of warning. “Drink fucking two and stay close to me.”
“I’m good,” I insist taking the offered can and popping it. He jerks his chin. “Totally different kind of field today.”
“I’m up for it.”
He grins. “Let’s do it then.”
Slight unease coats me as I hop into Troy’s truck along with a few of the other guys before he peels out. It’s when I see the obstacle course come into view from the side of the highway and dozens of muddied men twice my size gasping for air at the finish line that I sink in my seat. I’m terrified but do my best not to alert the fear-smelling, steroid-infused bees chattering around me with excitement.
Troy reads my posture and chuckles before cranking up the music as Kevin puts a reassuring paw on my shoulder. “We’ve got you, man.”
I do the only thing I can, I nod and pray.
At the starting line, I survey the course, my mind racing with potential tactics. A short sprint, followed by a climb over a nine-foot wall, then a crawl through the mud beneath barbed wire. Beyond that, it’s child’s play—hills, ropes, and tires.
Ted Nugent’s “Stranglehold” starts blaring through several large speakers around the course just as I decide my best bet is to flank Troy, and so I shift in line next to him. I scan the eager crowd of blood-thirsty testosterone to my left and know, without a doubt—I’m. About. To. Fucking. Die.
Steady guitar thrums into my ears, picking up speed and something in me shifts to beast mode as I study the hellacious trek paved out for us. I’m probably high off the Red Bull, but I feel like pounding my chest and yelling a war cry as my fingers itch at my sides. I think of the girl who just last night looked at me like I was the sun revolving the Earth.
I’ve fucking got this.
I lift my chin in defiance, batting any doubts away.
It’s when the bullhorn sounds and activity spikes on either side of me that I charge, tackling the sprint like a motherfucking boss celebrating my triumph of being one of the first to make it to the wall, well ahead of the hulk parade. The pride-filled grin I sport is smashed off my face when I catch the first elbow.
“Jesus man, that was epic. I’ve never seen a guy fly so far, so fast, and still get the worst fucking time,” Kevin laughs uncontrollably as I down my sixth beer in five minutes. Troy shakes his head laughing every time he glances my way, unable to get a word out, but I see a new respect in his eyes when he looks at me. At the finish line, and for the first time in my life, I’m at the King’s table. I can’t say that I hate it. I wasn’t an outcast in school, I just was the one everyone waved to while walking down the hall before they reached someone more important. Aside from my high school best friend, Nora was the first one to stop for me. She was the first person to take the time to get to know me. I’d latched onto that interest. It made me bolder.
But Laney’s attention makes me feel invincible.
Maybe I subjected myself to this massacre partly for her. But in all my years, I’d never taken the chance, never pushed myself like this and always just assumed I wasn’t capable of the athleticism or the stunt I pulled today. And the truth is abundantly clear, I’m nowhere near fucking capable. Despite that, I can’t regret it. To an outsider, I got pulverized, but every minute of the hell was a personal victory for me. It must show because the guys are crowded around me.
“Jesus dude, you need a medic,” Troy says, looking me over.
“I’m good,” I say finishing my beer and reaching for the collective duffle we brought before searching it for my phone. “Do me a favor and take a picture.”
“Crowd in, assholes,” Troy says as the guys gather around, dwarfing me. Muddy and bloody, I flex my arms in front of me Hulk-style. Troy takes a few pictures while trying not to piss himself laughing.
I scroll through a few shots and pick the most humiliating of the three before uploading it.
“You’r
e seriously posting that?”
“Favor for a friend.”
“A friend, huh? She worth it?”
“You have no idea.”
“Well, she looks good on you.”
I grin through bloody gums. “Yeah, she does.”
He nudges me with a beefy elbow, and I keep my groan inward. “Life gets a lot sweeter when you’re getting some on the regular.”
“Please don’t go thinking we have anything in common.”
Troy scowls. “You always going to rag on me?”
I nod. “Probably.”
“What’s her name?”
“Laney.”
“When am I going to get to meet her?”
“How about fucking never?”
He holds his hands up defensively.
“Bygones, man.”
“Yeah, let’s drop it.”
He claps me on the back, and it’s all I can do to keep him from seeing the tears brewing in my eyes.
“Do me a favor, dude, don’t touch me.”
He chuckles as Kevin delivers two fresh beers. “To Bugle Boy and his first Tuff Man!”
And last.
But I don’t bother to correct him.
The guys collectively raise their glasses, and I join them despite the ridiculous pet name because, for a brief second, it feels good to be king.
#tuffman2019 #invincible #hulkedout #ownedthatshit #therockhasnothingonme #livingmyrealestlife
Grannism—If someone truly cares for you, you won’t ever have to wonder about it.
Laney
Pouring more shampoo into my hand, I berate my hound. “You want to tell me how in the hell you got sap all over you?”
Max yelps as I grip him tightly to me while the hose runs at our feet. “You aren’t a young buck anymore. What in the world were you thinking?”
Max grunts as I give him his third shampoo. I swear I hear his snide laugh at my efforts. I’m rinsing him when I hear the crunch of tires and a car door close.
“Theo?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Over here!” I yell from the side of the house. Max starts to struggle against me, pining for Theo’s attention as he approaches.
The Underdogs: The Complete Series Page 18