Dirty Player (The Dirty Suburbs Book 2)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  “Wow – that is a crazy story,” I mumble, staring at her in disbelief. “And you’re right – your dad was a more creative cheater than mine.” She laughs but I see the hollowness in her eyes. I’m finally starting to understand her. No wonder she’s trying so hard to find a man. She probably just wants to fit in somewhere. She wants to belong to someone. “Huh…” I say pensively.

  “What?”

  “I guess it’s just starting to make sense to me, why you’d leave your home to go spend Christmas with some guy you just met off of the internet…”

  Her shoulders slump in defeat. I can tell she’s tired of beating this dead horse and she wishes I’d never bring it up again. I hold up my palms defensively. “I’m not judging you this time. I’m only trying to understand.”

  She bites on her lip as she smooths her hands down the front of her apron. “This year has been pretty sucky for me. With the whole Dustin thing and dropping out of school before finishing my degree and adjusting to life in Reyfield. I guess I just needed something to restore my faith. Something to make me believe that life doesn’t have to suck all the time.”

  I nod in a show of support. “You needed some ‘happy’.” She looks at me like I finally get it. All this time, I’ve seen her as reckless and desperate when all along, all she wanted was a connection. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s only human, I guess.

  She looks at me bashfully from under her blonde eyelashes. “I know this situation is fucked up. And I know that neither of us planned to spend the Holidays together. But I’m sort of glad that things turned out the way they did this Christmas.”

  I smile at her and I feel warm all the way to my soul, the way you feel when you’re wrapped in a thick quilt in front of a roaring fire. “I’m glad things turned out this way, too, Doll Face.”

  My mother gets back from her car with the missing measuring cups and dinner is ready by six. We eat and we drink and we laugh. I watch mom and Faith get to know each other. I try not to get too mad when mom pulls my baby picture out of her wallet or when she tells Faith the story of my first high school dance. I actually love watching them interact, the way they laugh at the same things, the way they work together to clean up the kitchen, the way they both settle on the same girly movie after dinner.

  I have no idea what it means but Faith just seems to fit into my life.

  Chapter 19

  Maxwell

  I pack my mother’s overnight bag into the trunk and slam it shut before rounding her modest seven-year-old Ford Focus. I’ve offered a million times to upgrade her wheels. I want to get her something newer, flashier. Something that says, ‘I gave birth to the number one quarterback in the NFL.’ But she insists on sticking to her trusty, rusty ride. I open the driver’s side door for her. But instead of sliding behind the wheel, she stands in front of me, staring into my face.

  “It’s really time to get you a new car,” I say with a small chuckle to fill the loaded silence. I suck at goodbyes. I really hate goodbyes.

  My mother closes her eyes briefly. “You can’t buy your way out of every uncomfortable situation, Maxwell.”

  I sigh, scrubbing my hand along my scalp. She’s right – buying her all the cars in the world isn’t going to make up for the fact that I haven’t been much of a son lately. Some situations, you can’t just throw money at. You have to face them head-on.

  She continues to stare at me.

  “What?” I ask feeling self-conscious. When a mother scrutinizes her son so closely, it’s usually a criticism that follows closely behind. But, my mother’s eyes grow bleary, filling with tears. “Hey…what’s wrong?” I ask lowering my face to look at her.

  “I’m proud of you, y’know?” she smiles weakly.

  I blow out a breath. After all the shit I’ve been up to lately, it’s good to hear that my mom hasn’t completely written me off. “Thanks, mom.” I lean in and give her a hug.

  She hugs me back, squeezing me tight before pulling away to hold me at arm’s length. “Having Faith around has been good for you.” Her statement takes me off-guard.

  I move a step back and look her in the eye. “Mom, I know that you like Faith but she and I aren’t actually together. We hardly even know each other. Our relationship is just for show, for PR.”

  She proceeds as if she hasn’t even heard what I said. “You’re different now that she’s around. More grounded. More mature.”

  “Mom –”

  She cuts me off. “And doesn’t she look like a modern Marilyn Monroe?”

  I chuckle. “A little bit, I guess.”

  My mother’s face goes serious. “Do the right thing, Maxwell. You owe it to yourself to try investing in someone. You know that in your heart. Maybe Faith is that someone…Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. But either way, it’s time for you to grow up.”

  I hang my head ashamed because I know that she’s referring to the scandals plaguing my career at the moment. I’ve never spoken directly with her about it, but I know she watches the news and she reads the tabloids. It must be disappointing seeing the son that she worked so hard to take care of squandering his golden opportunities on frivolous partying and random women. She says that she’s proud of me but I know that I’ve let her down.

  “You worked so hard to earn your spot on the Boomerangs. You can’t let it slip between your fingers just because you’re scared to be an adult. It’s okay to grow up, Maxwell. And it’s okay to be responsible for someone else’s heart,” she says gently, “It’s okay to fall in love.”

  My eyes snap to hers and I see a mixture of conviction and trepidation there. My mom just splashed the truth into my face like a bucket of ice water and it chills me all the way to my bones. I don’t try to correct her about my feelings for Faith. It’s useless. She can read me like an open book.

  Now she slips behind the wheel of her car. She rolls down the window and leans out. “I really enjoyed seeing you, son.”

  I smile down at her despite the tightness in my chest. “I enjoyed seeing you, too, mom.” I purse my lips for a moment and then I say, “I’m sorry I haven’t always been a good son.” I know that all my bar-brawling, sex-taping and public displays of bad behavior have embarrassed her and worried her and kept her awake on countless nights.

  Her fingers trace the rim of her eyes as she chases a tear away. “I couldn’t have asked for better sons. You and your brother are my greatest treasures.” She reaches out her window and squeezes my hand.

  “I’ll come see you soon,” I promise. “I love you.”

  She wears a sad grin. “I love you, too, son.”

  I stand there watching as her car pulls away from the semi-circle driveway outside of my building.

  Chapter 20

  Faith

  “Merry Christmas!” I shriek into the phone.

  I can almost hear my sister roll her eyes. “You’re a day late,” she grunts. “I tried to reach you yesterday. You didn’t answer your phone.”

  Yesterday, I made the requisite good-daughter-Christmas-day-phone-call to my mother. My end went something along the lines of “Merry Christmas…Give my regards to Step-Father…Love you, too…Bye.” But I haven’t spoken to Gracie in six days. Since I left Reyfield, I couldn’t bring myself to call her and potentially have to explain the mess I’ve gotten myself into because I hate it when she’s disappointed in me. Maxwell just went downstairs to say goodbye to Jane, so it seemed like the perfect time to make a quick phone call to my sister.

  “Been busy,” I say simply hoping that she won’t be curious about my whereabouts.

  No such luck.

  "How's New York?" she asks in a voice that’s trying really hard to be chipper.

  I feel guilt starting to coil around my ribcage. She has no idea that I made a major detour and that I’m all the way across the country. “Uh, good," I quickly change the subject before she asks for details. "What did Daniel get you for Christmas?"

  She clears her throat awkwardly at the
mention of her husband. "Daniel and I didn't exchange gifts this year."

  Uh…“Okay?" It’s not like them to skimp on the gifts, especially during special occasions.

  “We focused the gift-giving on Sebastian this year." She laughs tightly. "It was Mr. Pooh's first Christmas so we decided to spoil him. And he absolutely loves the toy car his aunt Faith got him, by the way."

  “Gracie, are you okay?” There’s something hollow in her voice. It gives me an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  She sighs, sounding tired. “We’ll talk about it when you get home, okay? Just enjoy yourself out there. And be careful.”

  I want to press her for details but something tells me that I won’t like what she has to say so I decide to let it go. “Give Sebastian a kiss for me.”

  “I will,” she says and her voice cracks. “I love you, Faith.”

  “Love you, too, Gracie.”

  I disconnect the call and flop down on the couch. I hate lying to my sister. But I’m so ashamed of myself right now that I can’t tell her the whole truth. To make matters worse, my gut is telling that something’s wrong on her end, there’s something she’s not telling me, either.

  I suddenly feel a surging need to get back home and be there for her. I’ve procrastinated for too long, living in this fantasyland with Maxwell. Yes, it’s all fun and games right now, but it’s all going to come crashing down sooner or later, not just because he lives on one side of the country and I live on the other, but because he’s told me repeatedly that he’s not interested in a relationship. And the more time I spend with him, the more I want to hand over my heart to him. I have to get my head out of the clouds and find my way back to Reyfield as soon as possible.

  I pick up my phone and scroll through my contacts, looking for Prescott’s phone number. He’s earned a lot of respect in his profession. I’m sure that he’ll be able to pull some strings and help me get my drivers’ license quickly so I can go home. I just need to put a little pressure on him.

  By the time Maxwell comes back inside, I'm wrapping up my conversation with Prescott as I inventory the tons of leftovers cramming the fridge from Jane's Christmas dinner.

  "Hey," I greet him as the door swings closed and I slide the phone into my pocket.

  "Hey," he says quietly as he approaches, his head down and hands buried in his pockets. He seems deep in thought.

  "You okay?" I ask.

  "Yeah, yeah," he says without even looking at me. I feel uneasy all of a sudden. A knot forms in the middle of my stomach. Have I overstayed my welcome?

  "Good news," I say quickly. "I just spoke to the lawyer in Reyfield. He'll have my temporary driver's license courriered. It'll be here in forty-eight hours, maximum." Then, you can finally be rid of me.

  Maxwell's eyes shoot up to mine. "Forty-eight hours?"

  "Yes. I'm sorry it's taking so long. I know you probably want me out of your hair."

  He rubs his palm over the back of his head before sliding it down his cheek. Frankly, he looks upset. "I didn't realize it would all happen so fast," he says with a miserable expression. “I thought you’d be around for a bit longer.”

  Now I'm just confused. I can't tell if he wants me to stay or go. He made it clear to his mother that nothing is going to happen between us. But now, he looks like he might actually enjoy having me around.

  His eyes settle on me and his stare is heavy enough to make me feel self-conscious. I need to say something. To break the tension.

  "I was hoping you could give me a lift back to the church. Your mom left enough food to feed a small army. I wanted to drop it off at the a soup kitchen."

  "Yeah, that’s a good idea. Maybe we can even help serve the food," he suggests. "It'll be fun." I smile when he says that with no mention of potential photo opps or the chance to post it on Facebook.

  "That sounds great," I grin.

  He rounds the counter and comes close, lacing his fingers through mine. "Let’s do this, Doll Face."

  Chapter 21

  Faith

  I dump a scoop of warm mashed potatoes onto the disposable foam plate before handing it off to Maxwell. He adds some string beans and passes the plate down the line. He shoots me a wink just as I’m handing him another plate and I can’t help but smile.

  Is it possible that he’s even more handsome wearing that hairnet and gravy-stained apron?

  It’s crazy how much fun I’m having with this guy and how much I like him. When I first met him, I could definitely appreciate how hot he was, but I was sure that he was a huge jerk that I’d never get along with. Now, I see how much we have in common and how good we are together. The past few days have been an adventure like no other.

  It’s safe to say that Maxwell Masters is my buddy.

  We’re friends. Putting aside my overwhelming attraction to him. Forgetting the amazing sex that we have. We’re friends. Yes, a part of me craves something deeper with him, but all-in-all, I’m deliriously thankful for the time that we’ve already spent together.

  Just before 9 p.m., we wrap up serving dinner. Maxwell gets dragged off to sign more autographs and take pictures. Meanwhile, I start cleaning up the kitchen with some of the other volunteers.

  I’m supposed to be wiping down the counters but I find myself staring at him as he interacts with some of the soup kitchen’s patrons. Man – these butterflies fluttering around in my chest must be drunk because they’re going crazy.

  “He really is one heck of a man, isn’t he?” I startle, dropping my rag to the dirty linoleum floor. The rosy-cheeked older African American woman to my left clutches her hands to her chest.

  I chuckle. “Yes, he is.”

  A woman with pale wrinkled skin and her hair wrapped in a colorful scarf flanks my other side. “Honey, I usually charge ten dollars a pop for my psychic readings but I've just got to say this. I see that you two will have a very beautiful life together. It will be rocky in the beginning, but everything will work out beautifully." The multicolor bangles on her wrist rattle as she speaks animatedly, gesturing with her hands.

  I quirk an eyebrow at her. "Excuse me?"

  "You two are newly-weds, right?" she says confidently.

  I shake my head vigorously as I laugh sheepishly. "We aren't newly weds.” I glance around and lower my voice. “We aren't even engaged like we say we are. We just met a few days ago. Barely even know each other." I don’t know why I just admitted that to these strangers. I guess I just feel kind of guilty about lying to a fortuneteller. (It must be bad luck to lie to a psychic, right?) Plus, these women look harmless.

  The clairvoyant looks shocked. "Well, in thirty-two years, this will be the first time that I'm wrong."

  “Sorry,” I mumble with a shrug as the woman ambles off, muttering to herself.

  The other lady cups a hand over her mouth and whispers to me. “Damn gypsy. I always knew she was a quack.”

  I giggle uncontrollably as I grab a clean rag and resume toweling down the counters.

  Chapter 22

  Maxwell

  My head is throbbing as I slam the door shut.

  “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” I dump my gym bag near the door and fling my plastic water bottle across the room. It hits a lamp, which shatters into a million pieces on the hardwood floor.

  I scrub my head with my palm and begin pacing from the front door to the window and back.

  “Maxwell? What’s wrong?” The worried echo of Faith’s voice greets me as she approaches from the bedroom. She’s barefoot and her hair is matted to her forehead. There’s sleep in her eyes as she tugs on the hem of the Boomerangs t-shirt that she slid into just before we fell asleep last night.

  As angry as I am right now, seeing her in this state – cautious and vulnerable – is softening me already.

  Despite her hesitation, she comes right up to me and threads her fingers through mine. “What’s going on?”

  My eyes burn like hell as I stare down at her. “It’s official. I got cut from the team.
The Boomerangs let me go.”

  Just saying the words feels like getting punched in the stomach. Faith gasps lightly, her hand going to her lips. “Oh Maxwell…”

  “They make the official announcement in a few days but it’s pretty much set in stone. I’m done. The Boomerangs don’t want me anymore.” My mind snaps back to the condescending look on Coach Martineau’s face when he and Laureto delivered the news to me as I was exiting the team’s workout facility about an hour ago. I hate how weak and emotional my voice sounds. I hate that Faith gets to see this side of me. But I don’t see one bit of judgment on her face.