Two Jocks Next Door: A Bad Boy MFM Romance

by Jay S. Wilder

I nod at him. A waitress walks by. I grab her attention and order a beer.

  Ryan cracks some peanuts and tosses the shells on the table. “Where you been?”

  I rest my arms on the table. The booth is too small. There’s nowhere to stretch my legs out. “I’m right here.”

  Next to me, Connor is quiet. He hasn’t said a word since I walked into the bar.

  Ryan throws a peanut shell over at me. “Yeah, but you’ve been moping around and shit.”

  “Moping?” I demand. “That’s a big word for you. Don’t tell me you read a book this summer.”

  His face turns red. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

  A dozen comebacks flash through my head. Any one of them would be right for this situation, but I settle for sending a message by cracking my knuckles.

  Ryan runs his tongue across his teeth and shakes his head. “You’ve turned into a pussy, man. Everyone can see how moody you are. You never hang anymore. You’re always in your bedroom crying over that girl.”

  That girl.

  I never talk about Tracey-Ann, but the guys have seen her around the house. Connor and I don’t exactly advertise our preference for sharing a girl, but it would be hard for our teammates to not have figured out what’s going on by now.

  I don’t do well with people knowing my business. And I don’t do well with them acting like they’re better than me.

  “It’s easy for you to talk shit,” I coolly tell Ryan. “Because you don’t actually have the balls to do anything real.”

  His face scrunches up in anger.

  “Guys!” Andrew snaps. “Fucking cool it. What are you even fighting over?”

  Andrew's voice is small and far away. It's the least important thing in the world. I get out of the booth and stand to face Ryan. He starts to rise as well. Liquid fury pumps in my veins.

  Someone touches my shoulder. Connor steps in front of me and hides Ryan from my sight.

  “Chill,” Connor calmly says. “It’s not worth it. You know it’s not.”

  I glance over his shoulder. Ryan’s chest rises and falls and his hands are curled into fists but he takes his seat next to Andrew.

  “I’m out of here,” I tell the floor.

  I stalk out of the bar and hit the pavement.

  How did everything go wrong this quickly? One week ago, everything made sense. Connor and I were working hard on the field and in the gym all week long and letting loose with Tracey-Ann every weekend. Life made sense.

  And now nothing does.

  “Kade!”

  I stop at Connor’s voice. He jogs over to me and stops at my side. “Tracey-Ann isn’t trying to be difficult.”

  “It’s not about Tracey-Ann.”

  “Oh, come off it. We both know it is. You’ve never had a problem with Ryan. You didn’t just start hating the sound of his voice tonight.”

  “He said...”

  Connor cuts me off. “I heard.”

  “He doesn’t know shit.”

  Connor nods. “Absolutely not.”

  My teeth grate together. Ryan is partly right, as shitty as that is. My head’s not on straight and it’s all because of Tracey-Ann.

  “I went to her house.”

  Connor’s mouth twitches. “I figured.”

  “She told me to leave.”

  Connor looks away from me. “Let’s go back in. You just need a drink. Ryan’s cooled down by now.”

  “No. I’m getting out of here. I’ll see you later.”

  I rake my fingers through my hair and walk off. The small pockets of people fade away. I walk around the neighborhood, taking streets I haven’t been down in months and winding my way through a maze of blocks.

  I wait for an answer.

  I wait for it all to make sense.

  It never does.

  20

  Connor

  I do a few squats to keep my calves warm. The dry grass crunches beneath my feet and the sun glints all around. I catch Daniel’s eye. The third linebacker gives me a nod.

  Today’s practice has been one of the best all year. We’re beyond ready for the upcoming season. We’re going to crush the competition and soar through this year.

  NFL, here I come.

  Our head coach claps his hands. “Take a break!” he calls out.

  I reach my arms up high and stretch them as I walk for the water cooler. Kade cuts in front of me, his helmet dangling from his hand and the same old pissed look on his face.

  It’s been nine days since he went to see Tracey-Ann at her parents’ house. That makes two days since she’s been back on campus.

  Two days with her not contacting us.

  I don’t like it either, but I figure I have other things to worry about. The start of classes and football season is already kicking my butt. Getting in touch with Tracey-Ann might push her away… Which is something that, apparently, has gone right over Kade’s head.

  I grab some water and settle onto the bench. Kade kicks at an upturned piece of grass a few yards away.

  Ryan saunters past, his eyes on Kade. I see the shit storm coming but it’s too fast for me to intervene. Ryan says something in a low voice. I can’t hear the words, but it makes Kade look up and grimace.

  Kade drops his helmet and launches himself at Ryan. His palms hit Ryan's chest and Ryan stumbles backward. Ryan doesn’t need any extra time. He regains his footing and tackles Kade. They fall to the ground, and Ryan wraps his arm around Kade’s neck. Shouting explodes across the grass. The whole team surrounds Kade and Ryan. I push through the line. They roll frantically around. Grass and dirt explode into the air.

  I grab one of Kade’s shoulders and tug at him. A couple of the guys pull at Ryan. With a few yanks we break them apart. Kade lets me pull him up to standing. He shrugs my hands off of him and spits in Ryan’s direction.

  “What the hell are you two doing on my football field?” Coach roars. He shoves his way to the middle of the group.

  No one says a word. Excuses don’t pass with Coach, no matter what they are.

  “Have you two lost your damned minds?” he asks Ryan and Kade. He glares between the two of them, then turns his sight to me.

  Like I have anything to do with Kade’s behavior.

  “Get it together,” Coach growls. “You guys are in your senior year. Scouts and agents are hanging around all the time. Did you forget that already? This is it. Your futures are at stake and you’re rolling around in the dirt like hotheaded little crybabies.”

  “Sorry Coach,” Ryan mutters.

  Kade remains silent. Coach glares at him.

  “Sorry,” Kade says, so low it’s barely audible.

  “Break’s over.”

  Ryan shoots Kade a stink eye. Luckily, Kade’s not paying attention. He’s too busy looking at the ground again. The team shuffles back towards the field.

  “Not you.”

  I freeze mid-step. “Huh?”

  “You stay.”

  I keep where I am while the other guys pick up their helmets and hit the field. Coach cradles his jaw in his hand and thoughtfully looks over at the trees.

  “Sup Coach?”

  “You know Kade better than anyone.”

  “That I do. Sad, huh?”

  His eyes snap back towards me.

  “It was a joke. Sorry.”

  “I’m talking to you because he’s not going to talk to me. Or, he’ll talk, but he won’t be honest.”

  I chew at the inside of my lip. “Okay.”

  “What’s the story?”

  I rub the back of my neck. I don’t want to share the details of Kade’s life.

  “Connor,” Coach barks.

  “It’s a girl.”

  “A cheerleader?”

  “No Sir.”

  “Good. He needs to get over it.”

  “Yep.”

  Coach nods. It’s settled. It’s my job to get through to Kade.

  Shit.

  The rest of the practice passes as smoothly as it can. Kade
keeps his hands off of other people unless there’s a football to be claimed. We wrap up and grab our gear from the locker room. Kade keeps quiet while the two of us walk across the parking lot and down the sidewalk.

  The cicadas are in full force this year. Their chirping sounds like a dozen screeching tires. My first year in Tennessee I couldn’t sleep because of their noise. Now it’s like ocean waves in the background. The nasty bugs put me to sleep.

  “SEC Championships,” I casually say.

  “What about them?”

  “They’re soon.”

  Kade suspiciously eyes me. “Yes.”

  “And then there’s the Bowl games. Those are just in December… And the Combine in February, and the draft in April...”

  “I know the season’s schedule.”

  I stop walking and turn to face him straight on. “Then you know what’s at stake.”

  Kade blinks and rears his head back.

  “This is our last year, Kade. Our last year. What happens if we don’t get drafted? You know where I go? Into the family business. No offense to my dad, but I’d rather be a millionaire athlete than a mechanic.”

  Kade twists his lips. “I don’t have a backup plan.”

  “And you don’t need one. Not if you work your ass off.”

  “Coach told you to talk to me.”

  “Uh...”

  “Did you tell him about Tracey-Ann?”

  “No, but forget about Tracey-Ann for a minute. It’s the scouts and agents we need to be thinking about. They’re the ones we need to impress.”

  “Don’t tell me not to think about Tracey-Ann.” He angrily slices his hand through the air. “She cut us off.”

  “No, she didn't. She just got back into town two days ago. She's busy starting classes just like everyone else."

  “She could call.” His face starts getting purple. He’s two seconds away from all out losing it.

  “She will. But think, Kade. What’s the most important thing in your life? What have we been working the last eight years for every single day?

  Tension leaves his shoulders. He sucks in his bottom lip and slowly nods his head. “Football.”

  “Exactly.”

  We start walking again. Thank fucking God.

  With Kade’s head on straight, everything else will fall back into place. Once Tracey-Ann is ready we can start hooking up like usual. Being with Tracey-Ann this year will be even better than last year. Kade and I are going to be completely consumed by football. Tracey-Ann is one of the few people who will understand that and cut us some slack for not being able to pay attention to much else.

  “I’m done with Tracey-Ann,” Kade says.

  I nearly trip over my feet. “Um, hold on a second.”

  He doesn’t look my way or break his stride. He barely checks for traffic while he crosses the street. I hustle to catch up with him.

  “She’s going to come see us any day,” I remind him.

  “No, she's not," he sharply says. "I'm done with her. I'm not sitting around and waiting for some bitch."

  He’s used the word, but never on Tracey-Ann. Never on our girl.

  “She’s not a bitch. You’re a dick, Kade.”

  He smirks. “You forgetting the pep talk you just gave me? The one about football being the most important thing?”

  “No, but you’re being intense. We don’t have to cut her out of our lives.”

  “You do whatever you want.”

  I thread my fingers through the roots of my hair. I’m frustrated enough I might start yanking strands out. “I can’t see Tracey-Ann on my own. It doesn’t work like that. She’s both of ours.”

  “Then stop.”

  “You make it sound simple.”

  “Here’s the thing, Connor. If she’s not getting rid of us now, she’s planning on doing it. It’ll happen sooner or later.”

  I clench my teeth together. He’s blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Tracey-Ann put space between us because of Kade’s behavior. We wouldn’t be in this position right now if it weren’t for him.

  He’s afraid of real rejection. It’s pretty obvious. He put himself out on a limb with Tracey-Ann and he doesn’t want to do it again.

  There’s no use explaining any of it. He won’t trust what I have to say. Kade believes what he wants to believe. His skull is thicker than his helmet.

  If letting go of Tracey-Ann is what it takes to get his head in the game, fine. It’s a loss worth taking.

  It will suck for me, but that’s the price. Kade’s been my best friend for years. Coach came to me for a reason. It’s my duty to pull him out of this trench he’s found himself in.

  Kade and I are in all things together or not at all.

  I clear my throat. It burns like Hell. “If it’s what we need to do, then...”

  “It’s what we need to do.”

  21

  Kade

  February

  The stands erupt in every kind of human noise possible. People shout, holler, and jeer. Cleats rush across the field and the announcer’s voice permeates it all. We’ve won.

  Wake Forest is down and the Vols are up. Our lucky streak is close to a miracle. We’re close enough to the NFL Combine that I can taste it.

  An arm wraps around my shoulder and someone head butts my helmet. My teammates crowd around me. We flow like a wave to the edge of the field. My right thigh aches from a fall I took in the first quarter but I couldn’t care less. Everything is working out.

  The spectators spill from the stands and onto the field. The whole place turns into a mess of people. I edge myself away from it all and grab some water.

  Connor jogs up to me. Sweat slicks his hair to his forehead and his cheeks are covered in heat rash, but he’s smiling from ear to ear. “Hey. Nice game.”

  He clasps my hand and pulls me in for a side hug.

  “You too, man,” I tell him.

  I suck down a few more gulps of water.

  “Looks like we’re partying tonight,” Connor says.

  I shrug. Some things have changed in the last five months, and it’s all been for the better. Not only have girls gone on the back burner, but partying has joined them. Anything that doesn’t directly aid my success on the field is unimportant.

  Kade’s words at practice in August really got to me. I don’t have a backup plan. Football is my one and only path. If I lose it, I lose everything I have left.

  It’s good to be sucked into something. It means I don’t waste brain power thinking about other things.

  Other things like Tracey-Ann.

  It’s been a couple months since she last texted me. The messages got further apart as time went on. It was always a variation of the same rant. I’m sorry, she said. I didn’t mean to push you away. I want things to go back to the way they were.

  I never responded. Not once. I don't know if she and Connor have been talking because I don't ask. My assumption is he's also cut her out. I haven't seen him with any girls, but he's been just as busy with football and school as me.

  Fine. Good riddance. I think it but I already know I’m fooling myself. Still, I try to convince myself of the bullshit self-talk. I let myself get distracted by a woman once. It’s not going to happen again. Once I’m over this year’s hump, once I’m securely on an NFL team, then I’ll start thinking about women again. I’ll get back to letting off steam by hooking up. Right now, it just can’t happen.

  Connor catches sight of something over my shoulder. His eyes go wide. My gut jerks. Something’s not right.

  I turn and nearly fall over. It's Tracey-Ann. I haven't seen her in over five months and yet here she is, come straight out of nowhere. Her hair is braided to the side in the way she always used to wear it. Even under her winter coat, the lines of her tight body are visible. She pushes her way around people and heads in our direction.

  I stay right where I am. My shoes are full of lead. I’m not going to be able to take a single step. She stops a few feet away from me and
Connor. Her breath makes clouds around her face. Someone accidentally bumps her from behind and she takes a step closer to us.

  I glance at Connor. His face is frozen.

  Tracey-Ann clears her throat. “Great game.”

  My tongue is just as heavy as my feet.

  “Thanks,” Connor says.

  Tracey-Ann tucks some loose hair behind her ear. “How are you guys?”

  Connor keeps the conversation going. “We’re good.”

  “You’ve been on a roll.” She lightly bites her bottom lip. “I’ve been coming to some games.”

  The small talk is disgusting. “Good for you,” I tell her.

  The whites of her eyes nearly pop out.

  “Yeah, I talk,” I snarl.

  Tracey-Ann shakes her head. Her ponytail flaps around on her shoulder. “I didn’t think you don’t… talk.”

  “You haven’t wondered why I didn’t answer any of your messages or call you back?”

  Her cheeks get pink. Connor looks down at the ground.

  “Kade,” she softly says. The gentle way my name rolls out on her tongue is wrong.

  I cut between the two of them and beat it across the grass.

  “Kade!”

  She calls my name again, but it’s lost in the roar of people around us.

  I keep going, just like I have all these last few months. I go through the motions of showering and changing. I drive home and climb the steps to my room. Connor is nowhere to be found, but a party is already starting downstairs. Kegs roll in and cups fill up. Everyone is in good spirits.

  I wonder if I’ll be able to join them one day.

  22

  Tracey-Ann

  “No, no, no.” Professor Kallogris shakes his head and walks across the stage. “What are you doing, Charlie? There’s supposed to be coffee in that cup and you’re flinging it around like it’s full of air.”

  The students stifle back laughs. On stage, Charlie shrugs and mumbles his apology.

  I look back down at the notebook in my lap. I’m supposed to be taking notes on my classmate’s plays, but so far I’ve only written down ‘good’ and ‘could use more action’. My career as a critic is dead and it’s not yet off the ground.