Drumline

by Stacy Kestwick

  I don’t think I’d said those words—I love you—since Garrett had died.

  I trembled when her hands skimmed up my back until they were locked behind my neck. I’d never felt more raw or vulnerable than I did in that moment, waiting for her response.

  “I love you too, Laird.”

  Her voice was thick and shaky, and I crushed her to me, until no drops of water could fit between us, scared I didn’t hear her right, that my mind was playing tricks on me.

  “Say it again,” I demanded, my lips right at her ear. “I need to hear it again.”

  “I love you, Laird.”

  I hoisted her into my arms, spinning her so her back was against the shower wall, and peppered her with kisses. Her cheek, her jaw, her throat, her delicate collarbone. I wanted to press my lips to every inch of her skin.

  “Again.”

  “I love you. And I’m not good at this either. Everyone in my life has always looked at me like I was broken, or fragile, or needed protection. I’m not used to asking for help. I’m used fighting for the right to carve my own path. That’s why I didn’t tell you about Marco. I didn’t mean to push you away. I… I’ve never had a guy who wanted to help raise me up before. Who wanted to see me reach new heights, instead of stand in his shadow. I’ve never met a guy like you before, who knows what I need before I can even say it. Who’s taught me new things about myself, and inspired me to dream bigger and brighter. And fuck my stupid ideas about no one knowing about us. Life’s too short to worry about other people’s opinions. I think we know that more than anyone.”

  We did.

  I turned the shower off, and grabbed a pair of towels for us. Being careful of her arm, I dried her off, wishing it was as easy to wipe away the pain of the last two weeks.

  I found my softest t-shirt and tugged it over her head, her face clean and smooth as she smiled up at me. The furrow between her brows was gone, and so was the wariness that had been in her eyes when she first showed up.

  Progress. I’d take it.

  But then her stomach growled, and I winced. “I’m already failing at this boyfriend stuff. Are you hungry? I never asked you. And I know I skipped dinner.”

  She licked her lips, and her brown eyes sparkled as she pulled the towel from around my waist.

  “Later. Some things are more important than food.”

  And then she dropped to her knees.

  Reese

  I knocked on the door softly, not sure if she was sleeping or just looking out the window. Her head was turned away from me on the pillow. “Amelia?”

  She twisted my direction, her eyes red and swollen.

  “They’re burying Eli right now, aren’t they? Mom said I can’t go. My white count is too low for all the germs.”

  I eased into the room, lowered the bedrail on one side, and perched next to her. Her small hand was cold in mine, the blue veins stark beneath her pale skin. She didn’t have nail polish on because they’d want to be able to get a quick pulse ox on her finger if necessary. I knew from experience.

  I made a mental note to bring some manicure stuff next time. They’d let me paint her toes.

  “Soon. I’ll be there. I thought I’d see if I could sneak him some drumsticks for the journey.”

  She smiled, faintly, but it was there. “He’d like that.”

  “I thought so too.” I winked at her and fixed the edge of her hospital gown where it’d curled up. “Two weeks ago, I’d promised him that I’d take you two down to Starbucks for cake pops. And I want to apologize for missing the opportunity. But I brought you two cake pops. I thought you could have his too.”

  Her eyes welled with fresh tears as she took the cellophane bag from me. “You got me the pink one! It’s my favorite.”

  I leaned in closer, and whispered, “That’s what he told me.”

  “You know, don’t tell my mom, but he was my secret boyfriend. Except, now he’s gone. What does that mean? Is he still my boyfriend forever? Does this mean we broke up? I don’t want to break up with him. I liked him. He told me I was pretty, and played cards with me, and made me smile. He told me some crazy story about peacocks last time.”

  My heart swelled and broke for her, and I searched for the right words to help. Spying a sheet of paper on the wheeled table next to her bed, I grabbed it and dug a pen out of my purse.

  Writing in big, blocky letters, I spelled out her name on the page.

  A M E L I A.

  “See.” I pointed to the letters. “That’s you. But if you look closely, right in the middle of your name are the letters E-L-I.” I drew a loop around them. “That’s Eli. He’s with you everywhere you go. You carry him with you in your name.”

  She traced the letters I’d circled. “That way I’ll never forget him, right?”

  “That way you’ll never forget him,” I confirmed, then hugged her to my side and kissed the top of her head. “Whenever you get sad and miss him, just remember he’s with you, okay? And have a great big adventure that you can tell him about the next time you see him. I think he’d like that.”

  “I can do that.” She sounded uncertain, but I hoped it’d give her something to look forward to. A broken heart was tragic at any age. “Can you take something to the funeral for me? Since I can’t go?”

  “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

  “I cut up some Uno cards and made a peacock with them in the craft room. It’s over there on the windowsill.”

  I retrieved it and tucked it carefully in my purse while she watched. “It’s beautiful, Amelia.”

  “You won’t forget?”

  “I won’t forget.”

  Laird

  “Snares, this is our last regular season game, and as your captain, I want to thank y’all for your hard work and dedication the last few months.” We were in the equipment room, where I’d asked everyone to report fifteen minutes earlier than normal. “Overall, this was an incredible season. I know we had some shit go down last week with Marco, but it never showed at practice or on the field. You were all professionals ‘til the end, and I appreciate that.”

  I paused as people murmured their agreements and fist bumped each other.

  “As y’all know, this is my final halftime show. I have to hang up my drumsticks and join the real world after this, which sucks ass. And last week, I played a solo during the snare break. But here’s the thing. I don’t want to play a solo this week. I don’t want to play a snare duel either.”

  A few of the upper classmen looked at each other in confusion, but I kept Reese in my peripheral vision. I wanted to see her reaction to this next part.

  “So… what are you doing?” Bubba finally asked.

  “I want to play a duet. With Reese. Because I fucking love her, and I can’t think of a better way to end my last football season than her by my side, playing for forty thousand screaming Rodner fans.”

  Around me, the rest of the line whooped and hollered, pounding me on the shoulders in congratulations. Beyond their genuine happiness for me, I’d told them about the shit Marco had pulled on her before last week’s game, facts Smith was able to corroborate. They’d all been understandably disgusted at Marco’s actions and even more disturbed that he’d specifically targeted a girl. I knew some of the guys with girlfriends and sisters took it especially hard that he’d physically hurt her, and they hadn’t known to intervene.

  Well.

  I didn’t tell them everything.

  I didn’t mention the private visit I’d paid to him where I’d delivered my special parting gift of a free rhinoplasty. Some things a man just had to handle on his own.

  I snuck a peek at Reese.

  With her hand over her mouth and her pretty eyes wide with shock, she tried to shake her head no. To refuse me.

  And it went against everything I stood for to force a woman to do anything without her consent.

  But I wasn’t opposed to a little persuasion.

  “It should be Bubba,” she objected, pointing at the behe
moth on my other side. “He’s a senior too.”

  “Darlin’,” Bubba drawled, adjusting the lapels of his uniform. “I know I’ve spent the last four years with him, but I don’t think his feelings for me are quite the same. I’m pretty sure your guy there wants you standing by his side for his last game, not me. Besides, with this face of mine, I’d attract all the attention and no one would even look twice at him.” He winked and stepped back, as if formally ceding the spot to her.

  “Reese.” I used my authoritative voice, the deep tone that forced people to pay attention. “I’m telling you as your captain to accept the field placement you’ve been assigned.”

  I grinned when her spine straightened with a snap, and her eyes sparked with that fire I loved so much.

  Then I softened my voice and lifted my hand out to her. “And I’m asking as your boyfriend if you’d stand by my side tonight, in front of everyone.”

  She paused, rolling her eyes and acting reluctant to take my hand, but I saw the smile edging the corner of her mouth. “What happened to no special treatment?”

  I tugged her to my side, and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. “I hear what you’re saying, but do you really want me to repeat that thing I did with my tongue this morning—the one where you got all religious for a moment—with the rest of these guys? ‘Cause I’d rather save that just for you.” I swung my head around. “No offense, Bubba.”

  He put his hands up and retreated another step. “Yeah, I’m good over here. In the tongue-free zone.”

  I looked back at her, where her irresistible grin had broken free and spread wide across her face.

  She shook her head at me, her cheeks pink. “You’re—”

  “Insatiable? For you, absolutely.”

  And then I leaned down and captured her mouth, wrapping my arms fully around her, ignoring the catcalls and cheers from our audience. I didn’t stop until I’d given her a little reminder of what my tongue had done between her thighs earlier, slipping inside for a quick taste when she moaned. When we broke apart, I kept her in front of me, using her as a barrier to hide the evidence of my raging arousal, even though I’m sure every guy there saw right through my ploy. I didn’t care though.

  Let them be jealous.

  Even though we’d barely left my bedroom for the last three days, I couldn’t get enough of her.

  It was like hearing those three magical words, that she loved me, had ripped free the last of my inhibitions. No more hiding and sneaking around.

  I wanted everyone to know that she was mine.

  After the preshow festivities ended and we were situated in the stands for the first half of the game, Reese and I decided to keep the duet simple. It’d be a riff off the cadence we’d both been teaching Eli in the hospital. It felt right to continue to honor his memory today, especially since he’d been such a big Rodner fan.

  And when the time came, she performed flawlessly next to me, our drumsticks in perfect unison, our timing impeccable. I was so damn proud of her.

  As we finished out the show, I scanned the stadium, taking in the view from the field under the floodlights one last time.

  It felt slightly larger than life, being a part of a production like this, knowing everyone was watching you, knowing it was one of those performances where everything just clicked and flowed effortlessly.

  My pulse raced at the same tempo as my drumsticks, the adrenaline thrumming in my veins, mixing with the roar of the crowd.

  I was going to miss this.

  As we marched off the field, the drumline pounding out the popular fight song while the audience cheered, I saw him.

  My hands kept playing on autopilot, but I twisted my head for a second glance.

  It was my dad. In the stands. On his feet and clapping, looking right at me.

  I’m not sure he’d ever seen me play before.

  Not in person.

  But when the game ended, and the fans emptied the stadium to continue the celebration of another win somewhere else, I couldn’t find him.

  Not that I expected to.

  Still, it was a nice gesture on his part.

  After a pit stop at Sammy’s, where I doubled our usual order, ignoring Reese’s protests and telling her that I intended to help her work up an appetite, we headed back to my townhouse and changed into comfy clothes.

  When the doorbell rang fifteen minutes later, I feigned confusion.

  “Can you answer it? I’m feeding Oscar.” I held up his dog food bowl as proof.

  “Are we expecting someone?” Reese glanced down at her gym shorts and t-shirt, and patted her messy bun self-consciously.

  She looked beautiful.

  I just shrugged, since I’d promised myself I’d never lie to her again.

  Reese cracked the door slowly and peeked outside, before suddenly yanking it all the way open.

  “Mom? Dad? What are y’all doing here?”

  Her mom fluttered around Reese, touching her arm, her cheek, smoothing a stray lock of hair off her forehead. Her dad wiped his feet fastidiously before entering.

  “We got a call,” her mom said, “from that young man you had to rush back here to see. He told me he felt bad we’d missed Thanksgiving with you, and flew us down, set us up with box tickets—it’s so much cleaner up there—then said to swing by for a late dinner. He even booked us a hotel. So here we are.”

  She wrapped her daughter in a hug, then studied me over Reese’s shoulder.

  “He’s very good looking,” her mom stage-whispered. “And so thoughtful.”

  Reese laughed. “Among other things.”

  She untangled herself from her mom’s embrace, hugged her dad, then joined me in the kitchen, where I was putting the subs and chips on actual plates instead of just serving them on their wrappers like we normally did. I figured I’d serve them up fancy since it was Thanksgiving dinner and all. When I was organizing this surprise, I’d considered ordering a turkey and all the fixings from Publix, but changed my mind.

  The subs were her favorite, and she was my favorite. It was that simple.

  Her parents were washing their hands in the bathroom, out of sight, but I still wasn’t expecting her to launch herself at me the way she did.

  I barely caught her as she wrapped her legs around my waist, then pressed her mouth to mine for a hot, but brief kiss.

  “Have I told you today that I love you?”

  “Not in the last hour, at least.” I stole another kiss.

  “Tragic. How can I make it up to you?”

  I whispered a couple dirty suggestions in her ear that had her squirming against me until we heard her parents approaching, and I reluctantly had to let her go.

  “Later,” she whispered. “All of those things. At least twice.”

  It was the best Thanksgiving dinner I’d ever had.

  Especially dessert.

  Reese

  “Remember that stupid quiz you gave me the first time you came over here?”

  We were sprawled in a satisfied heap on his bed on a lazy springtime Saturday morning, our limbs tangled together, my head pillowed on his chest.

  “Vaguely.”

  “Look it up. Ask me again. I’m pretty sure I’d pass this time.”

  I squinted up at him. “Like… now?”

  “Yes.” He swatted my ass and handed me my phone from the nightstand.

  Humoring him, I opened up my browser and typed RELATIONSHIP QUIZ, and scrolled down until I saw the familiar Cosmo quiz. It would be kind of interesting to know how his answers had changed from before.

  “Okay, ready?” I squirmed, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Question one, her idea of a perfect date is A. Getting dressed up and—”

  “I don’t need multiple choices,” he interrupted.

  I poked my tongue in the side of my cheek. “That’s kind of how these things work.”

  “You’ll know if I pass, won’t you?”

  “I guess,” I conceded.

  “
All right. Your perfect date. Something that challenges you. Something outdoors. Something that gives you a chance to show a bunch of guys you can hold your own. And then a giant picnic afterward, naked, right here in this bed.”

  I paused, contemplating his answer. “Not bad.”

  “Maybe something like the Tough Mudder 5K obstacle course I signed us up for next weekend.”

  “I—wait, you did what?”

  “Planned our perfect date.” He dropped a kiss on the top of my head, and I could hear the smile in the cocky, pleased tone of his voice. “Next question.”

  “Oh my God, really? I’ve always wanted to do one of those!”

  “And next week, you will. You’re going to conquer it, and then you’re going to help me deal with my wounded pride when your time is better than mine by letting me conquer you that night. All night. Until my fragile male ego is fully restored. Keep reading.”

  A little dazed, because that actually did sound like a perfect date, I read, “Question two. She hates it when her man…”

  “Tells her what to do. Unless we’re in the bedroom, where she not-so-secretly loves it.”

  I tipped my head to the side in thought. “Valid. Question three. When it comes to your friends…”

  “She prefers I disappear with them when that time of the month rolls around, so she can deprive me of her extra swollen, extra sensitive boobs, which I think is just bullshit, but I love her, so I’ll go with it.”

  Another bullseye for him, although I giggled at the exaggerated pout curving his lips.

  “Question four. You want to go to the big party on Saturday but she isn’t feeling well. You—”

  “Call Smith to come deal with your moody ass.”

  My shocked gaze flew to his, my mouth dropping open a little in disapproval.

  He smirked. “Just kidding. You know I live for the times when you actually let me pamper you the way you deserve.”