by McKinley May
For the first time tonight, I see a flash of sorrow pass his face.
“I’ve tried to contact her, but she doesn’t want anything to do with me. We were best friends growing up, each other’s rocks in this shitty family environment. I practically raised her. She blames me for fucking up our plan, though, so I guess I get why she’s pissed.”
“What plan?”
“I was going to take her with me to California when I left for UCLA. She wanted to get out of here, and we came up with this whole thing where I’d attempt to get custody of her as a legal guardian so she could come with me.” He laughs lightly and shrugs. “Who the hell knows if it even would’ve worked out, but she wanted us to at least try. But when I got the charges, we both knew it wouldn’t be possible. She felt like I chose our dad over her when I bailed him out—even though that wasn’t my intention in any way—and she never forgave me for that.”
“That's the absolute worst thing that came out of all of this—us not being close anymore. It sucks.” He looks up and gives me a tired grin. “You two would get along great, babe. I know you would.”
I return the smile and get out of my swing, squeezing in on his lap and wrapping my arms around him in a comforting gesture.
He leans his head onto my shoulder. “Sorry I haven’t told you any of this until now, but I just fucking hate talking about it, thinking about it,” he mutters. “But I wanted you to know everything, Rayne.”
I smooth a hand over his hair and pull him further into me. “I’m glad you told me.”
And I truly am.
Because this whole freaking time I’ve been under the impression he was this immature, trouble-making teenager who fucked up his future when in reality it was his father who set him up. It makes me sick, absolutely disgusted at what happened to him.
And it makes me even sicker to know I was going to use this story for my own personal gain, my career advancement when it’s obviously a memory he wants to fade away and never be spoken of again.
We sit in silence for a while, the steady squeaking of the swing the only sound until Vaughn lets out a low sigh.
“I love you so fucking much, Rayne,” he mumbles against my collar bone, words dripping with sincerity and a hint of sadness. “You're the only family I need.”
32
I can't sleep.
This entire night has consisted of me tossing and turning, my mind still trying to process all that Vaughn revealed to me last night. Every time I'd be on the verge of drifting off, the image of his anguished face would pop into my head, and the thought of everything he had to deal with would send anger surging through my veins, rendering me wide awake once more.
When I feel too restless to stay in my room any longer, I give up on my attempts to get some shut-eye and roll out of bed, sliding my feet into a pair of worn, fuzzy slippers.
I rub my sleepy eyes as I shuffle to the kitchen, trying not to stub my toe on anything in the dark. I walk into the living room where my mom is already setting up for her Early Riser yoga class.
Yep, there are people who voluntarily wake up this early on a Saturday morning to come take a class here. My mom calls them “dedicated” and “devoted”. I prefer the term “certifiably insane”.
When she spots me, her pupils bounce to the large clock on the wall and back down, surprised.
“Do my eyes deceive me? Is that really my daughter up before the sun?” she teases, her clear eyes and absurdly bubbly demeanor the complete antithesis to the rat's nest on my head and the ginormous yawn I let out.
“Don't get used to it, Mom. It's not the norm.”
She sprays a yoga mat with some organic cleaning chemical and wipes it down with a rag. “I’d invite you to join my class, but it's completely booked this morning, including the wait list. Not a single spot left. And only women as well.” She looks up from her scrubbing and smiles. “I’m thinking word got out we have a fit college athlete on the premises, and these ladies want a chance to see for themselves.”
I snicker, thinking back to the class Vaughn and I took yesterday and the considerable amount of jaw dropping and blushing that was going on. I was expecting some 18th century style fainting to occur when he removed his shirt halfway through the class. I definitely got a little light-headed at the sight. My boyfriend is freaking ripped.
“I bet Glenda spread the news,” I speculate.
Our next-door neighbor, Glenda Parks, may look like a sweet and innocent sixty-seven year old grandmother on the outside, but on the inside she's a sucker for spreading juicy gossip and perpetuating enigmatic rumors. Seriously, she's Hillcrest’s own version of Gossip Girl, and it's kind of hilarious.
She's a frequent flyer at my mom's classes. I noticed her there yesterday, gaping at Vaughn and not-so-subtly sneaking a few texts during Child's Pose, no doubt sending out some blasts about the hot, young athlete at Emerald's Yoga.
XOXO, Gossip Glenda.
“Wouldn't surprise me in the least,” my mom says as she strikes a match and begins lighting some incense.
Another uncontrollable yawn escapes my mouth and she nods her head towards the kitchen. “Go make yourself a cup of coffee and join your dad on the back porch. He'd enjoy some company.”
After fixing myself a caramel latte on my dad's fancy-schmancy espresso machine—the same one he caught me trying to smuggle in my car when I left for college—I head outside, the warm, ceramic mug heating my hands as I step into the crisp morning air.
My dad's eyes go wide when he sees me, and he pats the open space next to him on the porch swing.
“Morning,” I say, taking a seat on the plush cushion and grabbing a flannel blanket hanging off the back of the swing. I throw it over me and tuck my knees into my chest, enjoying the warmth.
My dad checks his watch dramatically before staring me down. “6:00 a.m. on a Saturday? Who are you and what have you done with my kid?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh my God, Dad. You and Mom are exactly the same. You guys ever think maybe college transformed me into an early bird?” I ask jokingly.
Like that would ever happen.
“If that's the case, I'd like to know how they did it. Your brothers both have the dreaded morning zombie curse, and I need the cure. I had to wake Stone up with an airhorn the other week.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “An airhorn.”
“Jeez. He's worse than me.”
We sip our drinks in silence for a little while, enjoying the soft rustling of leaves and the melodic songs of the wind chimes as a steady breeze blows through the trees.
“Is there a Warrior soccer game this weekend?” my dad questions, breaking the quiet.
It wouldn't be a real conversation between the two of us without some sports talk.
I nod. “Yep, tomorrow night against Yorkton. Vaughn and I are heading back in the morning so he can prepare for the game and I can get some homework done beforehand.”
He takes a sip of his drink. “Yorkton hasn't won a game all season. Should be an easy win for Windhaven. I'll have to see if I can catch it on TV.”
“You know, Vaughn can get you guys tickets to come see the games. Each of the players gets four seats for friends and family. And they’re good ones, too. Reserved section at midfield.”
“Well, we'll have to take him up on that offer sometime. Stone would love to see a game.” He arches a brow. “Vaughn's family doesn't use those tickets?”
“Um, no, not usually.” I rub the sides of my mug anxiously and quickly move on. “Just let me know when you can come and he'll send them to you.”
“I’ll check the boys' schedule and find a time we could make the trip,” he says before draining his mug. “You two are getting pretty serious, huh?”
An involuntary smile breaks across my face. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
“He seems like a great guy. Good head on his shoulders.”
Remorse floods through me as I think back to the last time I was discussing Vaughn with my dad, badmouthing him as I flipped t
hrough the local sports section a few years ago.
“I was wrong about him. Back in high school. He's not the guy the papers portrayed him as.”
He slowly nods. “We should never pass judgement on what we don't fully understand. People have unique challenges and struggles in their lives, and it's impossible to know that when you're reading a six-hundred-word column on them in a newspaper.”
I let out a sigh as I think about how freaking lucky I've been in my life to have a family that loves me, that has sacrificed so much for me.
“Thank you,” I say, and he looks confused.
“For what?”
“For being the best dad in the entire universe.”
He smiles and reaches out to give my hand a quick squeeze. “You are the best daughter I could've asked for. You were the greatest thing that ever happened to your mom and me. Don't tell your brothers.” He winks playfully.
A question that's passed through my mind multiple times over the years, but one I've never spoken aloud, bubbles up to the surface. Before I can stop myself, it spills out of my mouth.
“Even though you had to give up your baseball career for me?” My voice is coated with insecurity, but I want to know.
He frowns, shaking his head resolutely. “I would've given up the world for you, Rayne. Don't you ever think twice about that.” He turns to face me. “You and your happiness have always been, and always will be, my main priority. You are more important to me than any game, any sport.”
I give him a warm smile as relief pours through me.
But even with the state of peace that comes over me, my heart still aches for Vaughn who's never had the privilege to have a stable family life. Even the one person in his family he did have a positive relationship with was ruined in the wake of his parent's issues.
Suddenly, an idea pops into my head and I shoot up off the swing. “I’ll be right back. I need to get my computer.”
I quickly make my way around the side of the house, heading towards the side door so I can get to my room without disturbing the Early Riser class.
I'm not paying attention to where I'm walking—my mind swimming a million miles per hour with my plan for Vaughn—and for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Chase runs directly into me.
This time I'm not quick enough to steady him, and he tumbles to the ground. I hurriedly help him up.
“Are you okay?” I question, turning him around and brushing dirt off his back like I'm his mother. Xavier's right behind him, a soccer ball tucked under each arm and a water bottle hanging from his mouth.
“Sorry, Stone's sister,” Chase says as I swivel him back around to face me. “Where's Vaughn? We're ready for our lesson.”
I laugh. “It's a little early, don't you think?”
Xavier shakes his head and opens his mouth, letting the water bottle fall before catching it between his knees. “No! We've been waiting all night!”
I point them towards the backyard. “He's still sleeping, but he'll probably be up soon. Why don't you guys warm up for a little while? I'm sure he'll join you after he has some breakfast.”
They speed walk past me and I shake my head, wondering if their parents know they're here this early. I open the door and walk inside, ready to put my plan into action.
33
There’s nothing worse than that first day of class after a holiday or break. One minute you’re completely relaxed, enjoying life and the ability to do whatever the hell you want, and the next you’re thrown right back into the daily grind of college. It’s like settling into a nice, warm bath and just as you close your eyes to soak, some asshole turns on the shower head above, blasting freezing cold water all over you.
What I’m saying is that it fucking sucks.
Usually.
This Monday morning after Fall Break, I’m not feeling any of that. In fact, quite the opposite.
Confiding in Rayne this weekend felt good. Felt damn great, actually. I’ve been bottling all that shit inside for years, and talking about it lifted a massive weight off my shoulders. It was therapeutic opening up to her, making sure she knows I'm not the guy everyone assumes I am.
The thing is, I could’ve tried to get the truth out there years ago. I could’ve fought my dad in court, scrubbed my record clean of the false allegations, proved to the world I’m not some piece of shit who almost threw away his future. But when it comes down to it, I just want people out of my fucking business. I’m a private guy and the absolute last thing I want is the media in my personal life, analyzing my fucked up family situation and pitying me. The only thing they should be talking about is how badass of a soccer player I am, and that’s about it. I don't give a fuck what most people think about me otherwise; they can speculate and talk shit all they want.
But having Rayne know what really went down? Now that’s important to me. That fills me with relief.
Add that in with a dominating win last night against Yorkton, and yeah, I’m having an unusually exuberant Monday.
My chipper mood is evident to everyone who passes me on campus, the head nods and fist bumps plentiful on my walk to the Warrior Student Center.
I pull open the large glass door of Windhaven’s best study spot and walk up the stairs, heading to the 3rd floor lounge where Rayne and I planned to meet up this afternoon to cram for our tests.
Why professors feel the need to pack the week after holidays with multiple exams and papers, I’ll never understand. Seems like the sadistic fucks get off to it.
I arrive at the study room and glance around. There are a few students scattered about—a group of nerdy guys working quietly on a project and a dude in a recliner who’s passed out and drooling on his shoulder—but luckily no one’s snagged the black sectional in the back: the most comfortable and least dirty option in the lounge. I quickly claim the territory, tossing my backpack onto one cushion and shooting Rayne a quick text that I’m here.
Just as I open my computer, I see her entering the room in my peripheral. I lift my head to wave her over, but freeze mid-wave because ho-ly shit. She looks stunning.
As ironic as it is, Rayne’s like a beam of sunshine walking into the rom. Her hair’s up in a high ponytail with loose, wavy pieces framing her glowing face. Her pink, pouty lips are turned up in a soft smile as she glides towards me, the sexy white sundress she’s wearing flowing gracefully behind her.
I notice the group of guys eyeing her, one of them even dropping his pencil as she walks past, and I feel equal parts territorial and proud. Yeah, that’s my smoking hot girlfriend. You can admire from afar, but she’s fucking mine.
I scoot to the side so she can sit next to me, but she has other plans.
She carelessly tosses her bag to the floor and grabs my computer, placing it out of the way. She straddles my lap, her bare legs wrapping around my hips and pressing into the back of the couch.
Before I can even say hello, she dives in and places a scorching hot kiss on my mouth, sucking on my bottom lip like it’s made of candy. She tastes like peppermint and smells like heaven, and it takes about half a millisecond before I’m hard as a fucking rock—my usual state whenever I'm in her presence.
This girl has turned me into a walking, talking boner.
“Hello to you, too, baby,” I mutter into her mouth.
She pulls back, mascara-clad lashes framing the lustful stare coming from beneath them.
“Hi,” she whispers, wrapping her dainty arms around my neck. “How are you?”
I go in for another kiss before responding. “Couldn’t be better. You?”
Her eyelids lower as she leans in close. “Really, really good.”
Her words are tantalizing and sensual as hell. I let out a deep exhale when she scoots her ass forward, bringing herself achingly close to my now-throbbing dick.
I arch a brow. “Are you trying to seduce me at the Student Center? When we both have three tests this week?”
I shouldn’t be surprised at the PDA considering we spen
t the morning exchanging steamy texts like a couple of horny teenagers, but I wasn’t expecting her to show up to the WSC ready to get our exhibitionist on.
“Of course not.” She bats her eyelashes innocently, but there’s no hiding that blazing heat in her eyes. “I came here to study with you.”
She moves forward again, deliberately rubbing herself against me. I bite down on my lip—hard—barely holding back a groan that’s desperate to come out.
And she was worried about me being the distracting one?
“Jesus, Rayne,” I mumble gruffly, trying to remain focused as she leans forward and nibbles softly on my neck—gentle nips and licks that freakin’ torture me. “We can't do this here.”
I nod over to the other students just mere feet away from us. It feels weird being the responsible, rule-following one of the two of us, and I’m not sure how long I can keep up the act. Her pursuit of me is honestly so fucking hot.
She lifts her head, pouting those rosy lips and widening her eyes like a sad kitten. I avert my gaze and look for something to distract myself with. My fingers knead the hem of her dress and I roll with it.
“I like your dress, babe. Actually, I like all the dresses you’ve been wearing lately.” She follows my stare to the white lace. “I’m not saying I don’t love you in leggings and workout tops, because obviously I fucking do, but I’ve noticed you in different clothes recently. Any reason why?”
My question seems to achieve its purpose as she thinks about if for a moment. “I don’t know. Ever since I met you, I just feel like letting my girly side out. You make me feel like a woman, like I can express my feminine side.” She quirks her head and gives me a funny grin. “If that makes sense.”
“Totally does. It’s a natural reaction to my alpha-male masculinity.” I flex my biceps as she rolls her eyes.
“Oh yeah, that’s definitely it.”
I smile. “But seriously, I’m glad you feel that way. Let any and all of your sides out with me, and I can promise you I’ll love them. Even if you’ve got some hidden, middle-school emo chick buried somewhere deep inside. Throw on that all-black, witchy outfit and the matching eyebrow piercing. I’ll still embrace it.” An image of Rayne decked out in gothic gear flashes through my mind and my brows shoot up. “Shit, that’d be kinda hot now that I think about it.”