Commander in Briefs

by Kristy Marie

  Finally, we leave with five complete outfits, including shoes, pajamas, and God knows how many pairs of underwear. After I get it all loaded in the back, I plop down in the passenger seat, completely spent.

  “I’m not sure if I can manage that walk now. You wore me out with all of this shopping.”

  She cranks the car and smiles. “We’ll nap and walk later. I still need to make one more stop.”

  My head bangs against the seat in frustration, a tortured groan escaping. Anniston flashes me an excited smile, turning the radio down low as we ride in a comfortable silence to our next destination.

  We pull in her driveway four hours later. Her last stop was the grocery store, where she spent a small fortune on enough food to feed a small army. She also insisted I pick out shampoo and toiletries for myself. There was arguing involved. Ultimately, she tossed in the things she wanted me to have and I bit my tongue and let her.

  Now, her guest bed is covered with the new purchases, just for me. It kind of feels like Christmas morning, except in February. Recent Christmases for me have been spent scouring for food, the only joy a hot meal from a church hosting for the homeless.

  I let my callused hands run over the fine materials. My chest feels tight, but before I can dwell on it, Anniston appears at the doorway. “Hangers are in the closet. When you finish settling in, we’ll eat and then rest for a bit.”

  I nod my understanding.

  “Anniston,” I say, a little choked.

  She turns and gives me a sad smile. “You’re welcome.” Then she leaves me to put things away.

  I sort my new clothes by type and then by color. I’m not OCD but I want to cherish these new things that I may never get again.

  When I enter the kitchen, Anniston is on the phone. “I gotta go. Yeah, yeah.” Pause. “I said, Okay, Theo. Damn. What do you want me to do, sign in blood?” She looks frustrated, but still smiles at me and holds up a finger, signaling she’ll be only a moment. “Don’t be a baby. Okay. Bye, Teddy.” With that, she laughs and ends the call.

  “Who’s Teddy?” The question slips out faster than I can stop it. I know she isn’t married—no ring. Maybe a boyfriend? The thought makes my stomach sour. Get it together, Cade. This girl is helping you. This is not some damn Cinderella story. Man up!

  Anniston frowns and changes the subject. “You ready to go for a walk or do you want to rest for a few?”

  “I, uh… I don’t know,” I stammer out like a total dumbass.

  She cocks her head to the side, her eyebrow hitching like she isn’t sure what my deal is. “Ooookay,” she drawls. “If you aren’t sure, then you must not be that tired. Let’s go for a walk.” She turns to the fridge and pulls out two bottles of water. Handing one to me, she demands I, “down it and go get dressed.”

  I take the bottle and she eyes me expectantly—I guess I have no choice in the matter. Clutching the plastic bottle, I close my eyes and chug. I can feel her eyes on me, burning through my skin. She’s more perceptive than I gave her credit for. I gag a little on the last swig but I manage to fight off the sensation and drink the last drop. Crushing the bottle, I hand it back to a smiling Anniston.

  “We leave in five.” She shoots the bottle off the wall and scores an easy three-pointer in the trash then heads down the hall.

  I dress quickly, pulling on my newly acquired track pants and shoes. The Dri-FIT material caresses my skin like fine silk. To be clean and wear shoes with actual soles in them feels absolutely amazing. I slap on a little deodorant for good measure. The scent of pine and spice smells fresh and manly, but before I can revel in the new me, a bang sounds at the door.

  “Let’s go, Gorgeous!”

  Taking a deep breath, I head out into the unknown.

  She’s stretching by the door when I approach and nods at me, indicating that I need to do the same. I copy her movements while my muscles scream in protest. Fuck, this hurts. I’ve slacked off with the stretching when Anniston announces we’re ready.

  We set out down her gravel driveway, the gravel making crunching noises as our feet hit the rocks. The sound reminds me of bones crushing under a Humvee.

  I try to block out the images. With my eyes closed, I take a breath and will myself to think of anything else. Boats. Fishing. Anything. Surprising myself, I think of a smiling blonde. One who doesn’t take no for an answer. Ever.

  More in control, I open my eyes and sneak a glance at Anniston, who’s staring right at me. “You still with me?” she asks cautiously, and rightfully so.

  I nod and hurry my pace to keep up with her steps.

  She must agree that I’m okay because she looks away, forging up the hill. “Keep up, then.”

  We walk in silence, her watching me out of the corner of her eye. The squirrels running amongst the property jump from branch to branch, squawking and chattering every few seconds. Noise is good, noise masks the deafening silence that ultimately leads to bloody visions.

  I must have slowed because suddenly I get hip-checked, causing me to stumble.

  “So, Cade…”

  Uh oh. Her curious tone can only mean one thing: she wants information. I would rather she left me to die than to answer any personal questions. But when I finally meet her eyes, I see only genuine concern. A sigh escapes me as I swallow down all the reasons not to tell her anything.

  “What do you want to know?” My voice is soft as I give her the opening she wanted.

  Briefly, her eyes widen in shock before the cool mask slips over it. She slows our pace, weaving through the tall wheat stalks. “Are you homeless, Cade?”

  Anniston doesn’t look at me when she asks, and for that, I am grateful. Admitting that you made poor life decisions is always a sucker punch to the ego.

  “I, uh…” Clearing my throat, I work through the nerves and try again. “Yes, I am.”

  Anniston walks slightly ahead, never looking back or acknowledging my confession. “For how long?”

  Her question bothers me more than it should. Although I like to think I don’t give a fuck what people think of me anymore, I do. And right now, I do a whole fucking lot. I hate that this woman has seen me at my worst. I hate that I care what she thinks. I hate that she has shown me kindness. Most of all, I hate that she makes me feel like I want to change.

  My steps falter as I struggle to think of a way to tell her the truth without sounding like a failure. In the end, there’s no way to soften it, so I suck it up and own up to my decisions.

  “Four years.”

  This time she stops, turning around abruptly. “Four years?” Her hand covers her mouth like my answer made her nauseated. “You’ve been homeless for four years? Where is your family?”

  I leave her standing there, her mouth covered, her expression full of disgust and keep walking. No one needs eye contact for my next admission.

  “I don’t have any family. They’re all dead. It’s just me.”

  I can hear her hurrying to catch up.

  “I get that. Mine too. But why do you live on the streets? You’re military, don’t they have special programs to help guys like you?”

  Guys like me. That’s the statement of the year.

  I scoff. “Guys like me?” My voice tics up in volume as the rage and regret I bury on a daily basis bubbles to the surface. “Guys who kill their whole platoon?”

  An evil laugh erupts from me as I spin, coming face to face with those innocent eyes. “No, Anniston. Killers like me don’t deserve help. We deserve to die. You should have left me in the ditch.”

  With a slight shove, I push her away, guilty and ashamed. A silent tear slides down her cheek, her hand reaching for me. I sidestep her advance. “Don’t cry for me, Anniston. I don’t deserve your tears.”

  At my remark, she swipes at the tear and snatches me by the shirt, hauling me against her chest. “Let me tell you one thing, Cade. I don’t fucking take orders from you. You will accept my help or I’ll report you to every sheriff’s station this side of Georgia. I will
ensure you have a warm place to sleep at night, whether it’s in my home or a jail cell. You pick. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you believe you deserve.”

  She pushes me, not hard enough to move me but enough to serve as a warning that she’s not weak and can’t be pushed around easily.

  “I’m going back inside. Don’t stay out here too long.” With that parting remark, she leaves me to digest her threats.

  Deep down, I know I could disappear and she would never find me. She doesn’t know I’m Major Cade Jameson, former leader of a black ops team. No, she only knows me as Cade, the homeless man.

  And for that reason alone, I follow her back into the house. For salvation? For redemption? I don’t know but I have a feeling Anniston McCallister is about to turn my world upside down.

  “Something came up. I’m really sorry, Teddy. I promise to be there next game. Knock ‘em dead, champ.”

  I press play and listen to her bullshit message again for the third time. She is fucking lying. Her voice cracks at the end of “something,” which means she’s nervous. If there is one person I know, it’s McCallister. I know the girl like the back of my hand and I know a lie when it spews from that beautiful, plump mouth of hers. Although the lie sounds sweet, it irritates me like an itch under my jockstrap.

  I play it one more time for good measure. What the fuck is she up to?

  She acted strange last week when I called, too.

  Thinking she missed me, I secured her airline tickets to come hang out with me for the weekend and watch a couple games. She hesitated at first, but ultimately agreed when I pushed her for an answer.

  Now, something came up? I call bullshit.

  I sling my phone into my locker, so pissed that I don’t give a shit if it breaks. I yank my fingers through my sweat-soaked hair and start to pace. Pacing grooves in the floor always helps me think. And keeps me calm.

  Is she fucking dating someone? Is that it?

  No way. It can’t be. Anniston believes all the guys in our Podunk town are imbeciles. But… she has been distant lately. She wanted to return home instead of joining me for spring training.

  Dread takes root in my stomach. It can’t be. She can’t just back out of this. Not now, not after seven years.

  The stress ratchets up my ADHD. I need to run, but I just finished a game. I need to clear my head, and feeling like I want to hop on a plane and camp outside Anniston’s front door isn’t helping matters.

  I jog down the corridor to our weight room. The sweat smell lingers even after it’s been wiped down with antiseptic. It doesn’t bother me. After seven years in this business, I’ve grown nearly immune to the smell.

  The room is empty, as everyone is showering and headed home after we got spanked by the opposing team.

  Good. I need the silence.

  I step on the treadmill, set the speed to nine and fucking run. I run every bit of nerves out until I feel the endorphins start to kick in. Sweat begins to pour down my chest as my legs quiver on each impact.

  My favorite part about cardio is the jellylike feeling that creeps up and relaxes you when you feel like you can’t possibly do any more. Your lungs burn, your heart pounds, and then… bliss. Pure silence takes up every bit of space in your head. It’s that calmness that relaxes my hypersensitivity.

  I always knew I could focus better when I played ball, but I never understood why until Anniston figured it out. I went to the doctor after her revelation, decided against medicine unless absolutely necessary. It was essential when I was in college studying for a test, but now that I can control my symptoms with physical activity, I haven’t had to take it for the past several years.

  I slow to a walk, having chased away the nerves. Anniston and I don’t label what we have. Granted, that was my fuck-up years ago. I was bastard enough to take her virginity. I knew she wanted to take our relationship to the next level and I did too, in a way. But once I slid into her, those whimpers she made as I tore through her barrier… fuck, I was scared. I didn’t want to fuck up my friendship with the only person who ever cared about me. I didn’t want to let her down, but I did. I made a terrible decision in the heat of the moment.

  One that I have tried to remedy over the years, but Ans… nope, keeps my ass in the friend zone. Friend zone isn’t quite accurate, either. More like friends with benefits but with stipulations.

  After the night I took her virginity, we didn’t speak much. I went off to AAA ball, and she went on to med school, like planned. We stayed in contact via text. Our relationship was strained, to say the least.

  I decided that I wasn’t going to lose my oldest friend just because of one night that shouldn’t have happened. I should have told her no. I wasn’t thinking clearly because, well…it was Anniston. And I have wanted her for as long as I can remember.

  I flew back home during the off-season her freshman year of med school. Surprising her at school had seemed like the best idea ever.

  I missed her with all the traveling I had been doing as of late. The Major Leagues have been quite a change from AAA ball. Let’s just say, I have seen more of my bed in the past few weeks than I did all throughout college. And not in a good way. I’ve been getting my ass kicked in practice, Coach running me like I’m some kind of Olympian. After, all I can manage is to crawl into the hard-ass hotel bed for a few hours of terrible sleep. You would think this would be good for an ADHD person like me, and I guess it is. But what kind of life have I gotten myself into? I sleep when I’m told. I eat when I’m told. Hell, I even get up when I’m told.

  One thing is for certain. This career of mine sucks ass.

  It still doesn’t suck as much as working for my father in the insurance business, but some days, I might be convinced to give it a shot.

  UGA is bustling with overachievers just like Ans, sporting stupid smiles as they clutch their Starbucks, talking animatedly with the highly educated person next to them. Couldn’t Anniston have picked somewhere else a little less pretentious? Like, anywhere in Washington? Shit, she could have picked an uppity school there and I would have liked it better than this.

  Okay, so maybe I’m a little jealous. Adulting has not been kind to me. Getting up, working my ass off for a home I never see much guts me a little bit more every day. But I have no fallback. My measly business degree will do nothing for me at this point.

  I take that back. It will. I could live a mediocre life working in some big corporation with that degree but I’ve grown accustomed to the finer things in life and now…it just won’t do.

  Pocketing my keys, I casually weave through the mass of giggly girls, catching side-looks and disguised whispers. I doubt the girls know who I am but the guys…maybe. I’ve never been shy with fans, so signing a few autographs won’t be a big deal, but this is a football town. They probably think baseball players are beneath them.

  I round the corner, headed toward the School of Medicine, when a girly squeal pulls me to a halt. I know that squeal. That squeal is only unleashed when I squeeze her thighs, tickling them to open for me when she plays hard to get. I wait like a stalker as she comes into view, batting away a surfer-looking dude.

  “Gage!” That girly squeal sounds again, as “Gage” swipes at her, managing to hook his arm around her waist, pulling her into him.

  “Gotcha!” Gage is obviously excited to have his huge-ass hands touching my girl.

  My vision blurs as pure jealousy consumes me more with every step she takes with his arm around her.

  That is my fucking girl.

  Mine.

  I’m on the move, my legs eating up the distance.

  “Ans,” I yell, my voice laced with hate and venom.

  “Theo?”

  It takes three seconds. Three seconds for her to register that I’m here. Three seconds to toss her bag to the ground and run into my waiting arms.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you were in LA?”

  I completely ignore her question, squeezing her tight against me, smelling t
he sweet coconut scent in her hair.

  She hugs me back, rubbing up and down my back soothingly. “Are you, okay?”

  I nod into her shoulder. “I’m fine. I missed you and had a couple days off. Thought I would come down for a visit.”

  Anniston pulls away, studying my face for any deception.

  “Do you not believe me?”

  She smiles, placing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I missed you, too, Teddy. Come on, you’re just in time to buy me lunch.”

  “Go get your shit, Greedy. And tell Gage—” I scrunch up my face in disgust, “—next time.” But I don’t mean it. There won’t be a next time because I am going to lock Anniston McCallister down one way or another. Fuck this friends shit.

  We go back to her place after lunch and surprise, surprise, end up in the bed. Naked. Again. Not a wise move, but I was desperate to feel her, to plunge deep into her core and extract the very essence from her. I was ravenous to stake claim after seeing her with Gage. Never again. There will never be another Gage in her life.

  Cradled in my arms, I stroke the soft skin of her arm. “Anniston.”

  Her groggy voice is muffled in my side. “Hmm…”

  Instinctively, I pull her closer as if I almost expect she is going to pull away at my next words. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay.”

  Deep breath. She’ll go for it. She’s sated. She said she missed you. You can charm a girl, Theo.

  “I was thinking that maybe we should try dating.” I let the words hang in the air to see if she will jump at the chance.

  Anniston scoffs, pulling her face out of my side to laugh at me head-on, patting my arm like I just told the best joke ever. “We’re just friends, Theo. We always have been, just friends.”

  Friends. That fucking word became my demise. My fucking end. I watched as she pranced around on every douche’s arm that year. I was enraged. I was jealous. I was in fucking love with her. She knew it. I knew it. And she made sure she gutted me every day by rubbing in my face what could have been.