“Yeah, sure, fine.”
I barely noticed the drive back to my dorm and slipped out of the car without giving him a kiss. And what was that all about? I needed to expunge the fungus called Chance from my brain. But how do I do that when tomorrow I would have to go out with him again according to our agreement?
The stakes were higher, and Coach was holding no prisoners. He had us running several sixty yards for time to work on speed. A lot of my job as a tight end depended on it.
“He’s fast,” they cheered as I continued to beat out other players I raced against.
Then it was on to drills and running plays. By the time practice was over, I was dead on my feet.
“Come on, ladies,” Coach jeered. “If we are going to win a bowl this year, you’re going to have to dig deep. We’re in the trenches. And this isn’t just riding on Moore’s arm.”
Coach pulled me aside in the locker room. “A lot of people are going to be watching. This above any other is your time to shine. Your game needs to be solid if you want to make it out of this shit hole.”
He patted my back, sending me on my way. I knew more than he did how much I had riding on football. It could change my life, and my dad’s. Maybe if I could afford to get him out of that house with all the memories of my mother, he could move on. I would be able to get him help. Doctors, who could talk him off the ledge and prescribe him medication if he needed it.
Engineering was my fail-safe, but it wouldn’t help my situation immediately. I would have to work my way up to making money that counted. I needed a miracle, and that was to be drafted.
I stood in the shower until the hot water ran cold, much to the annoyance of the other guys who had to wait. Kelley drove us home.
Beat to shit, I wanted sleep. But I’d made plans tonight.
“Brie coming?” Kelley asked.
Unfortunately, Sawyer was around when he said it. He started to gyrate.
“Oh, Chance, do me, baby. Please, baby.”
Kelley slapped the back of his head before I could. “Come on, girls. Let’s go,” he said to our friends.
“I have to leave my own place. That’s pretty fucked up,” Sawyer whined.
It was Ashton’s turn to pop Sawyer good. “By the way,” Sawyer added. “Everything you need for dinner tonight is in the fridge.”
I turned to face him. People could say what they wanted to about the guy, but he was a true friend down to the core.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“I know,” he replied.
“I’ll pay you back.”
He shook his head. “The only repayment I need is leftovers when I get home tonight.”
We knocked fists and Ashton gave Sawyer a noggie, rubbing his knuckles into the top of the guy’s head. Then they were gone. I’d had friends in high school, good ones. But after everyone left for college, we hadn’t kept in touch.
I had a strong feeling these guys would be there for the rest of my life.
Prepping the chicken breast, my hands were too dirty to answer the knock that came at the door.
“Come in,” I called out.
Brie strolled in like the dawn. Her sunbeam smile gave new life to the fading day. Seeing her reminded me of all the reasons I was fighting for her.
“Something smells amazing. How many other girls know about this hidden talent of yours?”
Hypnotized by her hips, I didn’t immediately respond. They swayed as she walked. And her shorts gave me a view of legs that were made to wrap around my waist. Fuck.
“None that matter,” I muttered.
She took a seat at the counter as I continued to work. “All this for me?”
Glancing over at her, I shrugged. “I actually like cooking.”
“You’ve never told anyone that?”
I shrugged again. “Not something that comes up. Hey, I play football, and I like to cook for fun.”
“So, the guys don’t know?”
“They do now.”
I’d cooked before, but nothing so elaborate. We had the student meal plan, so cooking wasn’t a priority.
“What are you making?”
“Chicken Piccata in a lemon wine sauce over angel hair pasta.”
“Now I’m going to have to marry you,” she teased.
For a second, my heart skipped a beat, until it caught up with my brain.
“Exactly. I’m a catch.”
She blushed. Then I saw it. She was holding back, and regret filled her eyes. I turned away from it to finish the meal. Despite Kelley’s encouragement, something told me I might have already lost the war.
To fill the silence, I turned the TV on while I finished cooking. Once I had the meal on the small table in our tiny dining room, I flipped the TV off, determined to make the best of the night, even if she wasn’t going to give us a shot.
I led off with, “I hear you’re an aunt again.”
“Yes, my sister just had a daughter.”
“That’s cool. I don’t have any siblings. What’s it like?”
Watching her hold her fork and use her spoon to gather pasta was like watching art being made. She was so proper and elegant.
“It’s not as glamorous. My earliest memories of my brother are watching him go out and hang out with his friends. He didn’t have a lot of time or patience for me as a kid. We’re twelve years apart, and he sees me as the fun suck as he called me.”
“Fun suck?”
“So…that means I sucked all the fun out of his life when Mom and Dad would force him to watch me from time to time. I had a nanny, but she needed days off, too. My sister and brother would fill that role. Brenda didn’t mind so much. She was more of a bookworm and didn’t hang out as much. Staying home with me was not a big deal for her.”
“There were many days I wished I had a brother or even a sister.” A lot of times so that my father’s burdens wouldn’t rest solely on me. Did that make me a bad son?
Silence settled down as we dug into our meals. I continued to watch her eat. It was fascinating and incredibly sexy. And not how her mouth moved. But because I took in all the little details, from her freckles to her graceful hands and back to her gorgeous mouth. The boner in my pants ached like a migraine, persistent and throbbing. I considered letting her go home as I could see she was about to suggest. But I couldn’t let her go, not yet.
“Did you hear about the movie marathon they’re playing on the quad?” Her eyes sparked, and I knew she wanted to go. I pressed on. “I thought maybe we could go.” Her mouth moved. “They’re playing The Seven Year Itch at nine. If we head out now, we’ll make it.”
My dad liked old movies. Something about how he used to watch them with his parents. So I’d seen my fair share. And Marilyn Monroe was also a favorite of Dad’s.
“What do you know about The Seven Year Itch?”
“That one of the most beautiful women who ever lived plays in it. And you look a lot like her, a better version, though.”
She pointed a finger at me. “You are such a flirt.”
“Is it working?”
“What do you even like about Marilyn?”
“She was beautiful, and she was real. She looked like she ate and not just dry lettuce. Outside of that, I don’t know. But I know you remind me of her, which is why I’ll eat my ego for breakfast if you’d give me another shot.”
I got no answer. But she did let me hold her hand as we walked to the quad and found a spot. She’d insisted on driving us back to campus and bringing a blanket. Two things I hadn’t thought of because I’d been so wrapped up in her. And she didn’t pull away when I put my arms around her as the night caught a cool breeze. All about planning.
Walking her back to her dorm, she asked, “So, if I were cast in that movie, who would I be?”
“Is that a trick question?”
That major of hers had her brain working on overtime, I was sure.
“No right or wrong answer.”
I doubt that. “Mar
ilyn.”
The movie was about a married guy who was home alone for the summer because his family was out of town. Marilyn moved into the apartment building and tempted the guy into cheating on his wife.
At that point, we’d made it to her dorm.
“Really, because I see you as Marilyn.”
“Marilyn?” For a second, I questioned my manhood until I understood Marilyn’s role in the move. “So I’m tempting you from your TA.”
Her half-smile was sultry and involuntary. I reached out. I let my hand fall quickly when she backed away. “Goodnight, Chance.”
That mouth, I’d wished a thousand times I could go back and truly appreciate the few times I’d kissed her freshman year.
“Night, Brie. Don’t let dreams of me keep you up all night.” I winked.
Damn her, as she walked away, for giving me hope.
In that moment, I should have never looked back, but I felt myself begin to fall off the ledge. I was unable not to look at the guy responsible for my destruction. The flames of heat he created in me licked at my skin with the desire that burned in me.
At the bottom of the stairs, he stood, not having left yet. His hand ran roughly through his hair as he carried on an animated conversation with someone on the other end of his cell. Worry creased lines in his forehead.
Steps leaden with dread carried me back to him. When I reached him, he pocketed his phone.
“Is everything okay?”
The question seemed inadequate with the anxiety that hid the dimple normally prominent on his face.
Raking a hand through his hair again, his eyes met mine.
“My dad…” He gulped the air like a lifeline. “I have to get home.”
Desperately, he glanced around as if he could find the means to get there.
“I’ll take you.”
I would have offered him my car, but he didn’t look as though he should be driving.
“You have class in the morning. I can’t ask you to do that.”
Brushing his comment aside, I said, “You live in the state. It can’t be that far.”
Oklahoma wasn’t a big state like Texas, its neighbor.
“It’s about a two-hour drive.” As dismissive as his comment was, I caught the hint of desperation in his expression.
“We better get going then.”
I was already turning when he held me. Our eyes locked, and for a second I was trapped in their depth. Like a riptide, I felt myself being pulled in.
“Thank you.”
His voice was thick with emotion. I nodded and turned before I said something stupid like anything for you…always.
It was a good thing I had my keys, as we’d driven back to campus and I hadn’t gone to my dorm to drop them off before the movie. We got back into the car, and he gave me directions. The two-lane highway we took was virtually empty at that time of the night. I decided to broach the subject with him.
“So…” I swallowed thickly. “Is your dad okay?”
His massive hand spread as he pinched at the corners of his forehead. “He’s been arrested.” He scrubbed a hand over his eye and mouth as if embarrassed by the admission.
With no judgment, I asked, “For what? Can I ask?”
“Of course you can. You’re driving me home in the middle of the night. I did thank you for that, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
He sighed. “Dear old Dad has a drinking problem. And he got rowdy when the bartender refused to serve him. The police were called. They called me. They always call me.” His pause filled in questions. A deep sadness was hidden behind easy smiles. My heart broke for him. “Sheriff is willing not to press charges if I come and get him.”
Falling was an inadequate feeling for what I was doing when it came to Chance Abbott. My heart was ready with the bungee cord. My leap would be deliberate. I steadied myself. As much as I hurt for him, I couldn’t take that dive into the deep.
I watched him fold within himself mentally. There were many things I could do to draw him out, but I felt like he needed time to think. So I turned on my playlist. A song about falling in love spewed off as if a direct link from my thoughts to the radio existed.
When we finally pulled up at the police station, my eyes burned with the need for sleep.
“Wait here.”
Jogging to the door, I threw it open, familiar with the station. The single officer on duty that night glanced up from his desk as I stepped in.
“Chance,” he greeted.
I tipped my head. “My dad.”
He nodded. “He’s sleeping it off. Sheriff said I can release him to you.”
He waved me to follow, and we entered the back through a single door. The cells held two occupants, both drunkards. The sounds of snoring and keys rattling in the lock were the only things to be heard.
Once the door opened, I moved through without hesitation. “Dad,” I said and shook him to wake him up.
He smelled like a putrefied brewery.
“Chance,” he finally replied through a sleep haze, blowing stale breath in my direction.
“Let’s go, Dad.”
“You came,” he said with astonishment as I helped him sit up.
“Come on. We’ve got to get home.”
His bleary eyes cleared some. “Is your mother there?”
I closed my lids briefly, feeling hate bubble in me. She did this to him. On his feet, he shuffled in the direction I led him.
Out in the fresh air, he continued to stumble forward until I had him leaning on the passenger’s side of the car. When I thought he wouldn’t tip over, I reached for the handle. But Brie was there as if God sent her. Only I hadn’t wanted to introduce her that way to the only family I had. There was no way she’d understand. She came from a two-parent family who loved and took care of her, not the other way around.
Dad was a big guy. It was one thing we had in common since, unfortunately, I looked more like my mom. It took a bit of coaxing, but we finally had him in the front seat. I hated the pitying eyes Brie gave me as we rounded the car.
She opened the door, but ducked under my arms to climb in the back.
“It’s easier if you drive. You know where you’re going.”
Dad, a little more alert, turned his whole body to get a look at Brie in the back. “You sure are a pretty little thing,” he said to her. Then, to me he asked, “Chance, is that your girlfriend?”
“No.” My voice was flat. I prayed Dad would fall back to sleep without saying anything else.
“Oh, that’s right. You’re like me. We’re cursed to be one women men. Lindsey, isn’t it? That’s the girl you’re in love with.”
Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I gritted out, “I’m not in love with Lindsey.”
Dad laughed like I was the delusional one. “Have you seen your room?”
“Dad, stop.”
But he didn’t. He angled back to Brie, and I was helpless against what he would say next. The only thing I could do was get home quickly.
“You know she broke his heart. That’s our curse. We love women who break us.”
I jerked the car to a stop and cut the engine. Leaping out, I hardly thought about the tiny framed house that looked sad with weed-infested grass, overgrown landscape, and peeling paint that had seen better days.
“Let’s get you inside.”
Handing Brie her keys, I had to root in Dad’s pockets to find his house keys seeing as I hadn’t been prepared to come home. Mine were in a drawer back at the place where I’d felt more at home.
When I got the door open, I was thankful he wasn’t a slob. Order and not chaos met me as I headed toward the back of the shotgun house. The living room was in the front along with the kitchen to one side. A narrow hallway led to the two bedrooms and single bath that ended the house with a door that led to the back.
I opened Dad’s bedroom door on the right. My bedroom was a little farther down as it shared the space on the opposite side with the bat
hroom.
Closing the door behind us, I began to get Dad ready for bed.
“I’m sorry, Chance. I didn’t mean to drink,” he slurred. His body sagged against mine. “It was just supposed to be one to get rid of the shakes.”
Helpless, I watched Chance disappear with his father out of sight. I stood in the dark as moonlight streamed through the windows. That was how I saw the pictures. Unable to help myself, I drifted toward the mantel that held several framed photos.
The first held a much younger Chance sandwiched between two people blessed with looks that produced a gorgeous son. The father and the young boy had faces that bloomed with smiles worthy to be called cheeses. It was the woman in the picture. She wore a huge smile as well, but her eyes didn’t have the laugh lines.
I hated her on sight for breaking this family, because it was clear they were fractured by her departure. The other pictures were much the same as Chance grew in front of my eyes. Only the smiles dipped. On the surface, they appeared happy, but I could see the minuscule difference as they progressed. Chance couldn’t have been much older than middle school age when his mom left, because there weren’t any more family pictures. There was a collage of school pictures. The boy was beautiful.
“Hey, I’m sorry about…” He waved helplessly in the direction he’d come from. “My dad,” he finally said.
His hands were in knots as anxiety dictated his every action.
“It’s okay.”
Though I had to admit, I wondered about Lindsey. Chance claimed he didn’t love her. Was he lying to himself? I’d almost gone for his bedroom, but thought that would be an invasion of privacy. He wasn’t mine, and that had been my choice.
“It’s late. I need to stay here tonight to make sure my dad is okay until morning. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive back tonight. So you’re free to sleep here.”
I shifted on my feet.
“You can sleep in my room. I’ll stay out here on the couch.”
“You don’t have to give up your bed.”
“If you think I’m going to sleep in my bed while you brave the lumpy sofa, you have another thing coming.”
Catching Fireflies Page 9