Stealing the Bad Boy
Page 2
What home do I have? The thought made him want to press a hand to his chest, like he could ease the ache there.
“I’m heading to Katy,” Sy said, making up his mind as the words came out of his mouth. He hadn’t planned to say them, or thought through this idea at all, but it felt right.
“Nice,” James said. “Enjoy your holiday. See you in a few days. But hopefully not because you need to see me.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Sy said.
The two men separated as Sy reached his Range Rover, tossing his bags in the back seat. He turned on the ignition and pulled up the maps app on his phone. It was a three-hour drive unless he stopped at home, which would add another hour. His workout bag in the back seat had one clean change of workout clothes and basic toiletries. He could stop at virtually any store and grab what he needed for a few days. If he left now, Sy would get to Katy a few hours before midnight.
Am I really doing this?
Should I really do this?
His heart rate picked up as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the highway. Moments ago, he’d been feeling heavy about the holidays. Now? He had something to look forward to. An adventure. A big question mark over the next week of his life. He couldn’t remember the last time he had this many days with no schedule, or when he had picked up and just driven somewhere, no planning.
It felt … amazing.
Chad had been the one to tell him that being impulsive wasn’t all bad. It was more that Sy needed to choose the right things to jump into. Was this one of those things? Or was dropping in on his hometown with no change of clothes and no plan of where to stay totally ridiculous?
Sy’s thoughts turned and tangled for the next few hours until he finally pulled over at a chain hotel just off the highway in Sealy. He was only thirty minutes from Katy, maybe less. He needed a night alone to pull his thoughts together. As soon as he got into the room, he dialed Chad.
“Sy. To what do I owe the honor?”
The dry, irritated tone in Chad’s voice made Sy smile. “You know you love me.”
“You certainly keep me entertained. And well compensated. Whatever the reason you’re calling, talk slow. I’m officially on overtime.”
Sy laughed again. “Consider it my Christmas gift to you.” He paused, wondering where to start. Pacing through the small hotel room, he finally settled on the one chair that rolled up to a shiny wooden desk with a built-in lamp that he clicked off and on.
Chad waited. He always seemed to sense when to push and when to hold back, something Sy appreciated.
“I decided to go home for Christmas,” Sy said, finally. “Home, as in Katy, where I grew up.”
“What’s in Katy?”
“Memories.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What kind of memories?”
Dragging a hand through his hair, Sy fought for the words. “I don’t know. I ran into one of the physical therapists on my way out of practice, and he asked if I was going home. The question made me feel like I don’t really have one, you know? I mean, I have zero plans for Christmas. My parents planned a cruise with my sisters and their husbands and kids, even knowing I couldn’t go. Which is kind of par for the course when it comes to them. I was going to just chill at my place. Alone. Get some workouts in, rest. Nothing big.”
It sounded even sadder now that he was saying it out loud. But Chad never made him feel worse about things, never judged or ashamed. Sy picked up the hotel pen and began doodling on the little pad.
“I started thinking about where home was, or what felt like home. And I’ve been thinking about prom because of this ridiculous charity thing. Did I ever tell you about my prom?”
“Let me guess: you were prom king and got the girl in the end.”
Sy laughed darkly. “Not quite. You really don’t care if I get into this? It’s not quick.”
“Like I said, overtime.”
Sy chuckled. “You asked for it.”
Taking a breath, Sy launched into the best summary he could of prom, starting with the fact that his parents worked all the time, basically leaving him almost on his own at fifteen. They were more invested in Molly and Erin, his older sisters who were out of college by that time.
Enter the Winters family next door. They moved in right before his eighth-grade year. Sy had noticed Delia first, but was too shy to talk to the blonde bombshell who looked too beautiful to be real. She, of course, jumped right to the top of the social food chain at school. For a while, he simply watched her come and go, wishing he was brave enough to introduce himself.
It had been Amy who had stopped Sy on the sidewalk one day, inviting him over for dinner. He still remembered the way Ames looked, wearing a purple wig and a Houston Roughnecks football jersey. He couldn’t tell exactly how old she was with her thin frame, but would have put her in fifth or sixth grade rather than just two years younger. Her smile was disarming with its brilliance. Sy couldn’t have said no if he tried. Plus, a home-cooked meal and a chance to meet Delia? He was all over it.
That first dinner was the start to the rest of high school, where he spent almost every day at Delia and Amy’s house. Sy probably spent more time with Mr. and Mrs. Winters than with his own parents during those years.
While Delia always seemed like an out-of-reach crush, oh-so-tempting in her cheerleading uniform, Ames became his buddy. When she wasn’t too sick from her chemo, they watched Sports Center together, talked Fantasy Football picks, and shared a mutual dislike of all of Delia’s boyfriends.
Their house had been Sy’s happy place. They were his people. Until he screwed it all up on prom night.
Chad made little affirming noises every so often, maybe just to assure Sy that he wasn’t asleep.
“Anyway. I finally got my chance to get out of the friend zone with her at prom and then blew it all with that one punch. Lost my home away from home, and the girl.”
“Which girl? Amy or Delia?”
“What?” Sy dropped the pen. Without realizing it, he’d filled almost the whole pad of paper with swirls and lines. “Delia. Weren’t you listening? Amy was her younger sister.”
“Only like, two years younger, right?”
“Yeah … but no. It wasn’t like that.” Chad’s question had thrown him. Maybe Sy didn’t explain it well enough. “Amy was my friend. Like the little sister I never had. Delia was my dream girl.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Sy paused. “What’s that tone about? You have a tone.” Usually that tone meant that Chad was about to say something Sy didn’t want to hear. He picked up the pen again and turned to a fresh page.
“It’s just interesting,” Chad said. “What you said was that you liked Delia. But what I heard was you talking about how much you enjoyed Amy’s company. You went on and on, actually. You and Amy had interests in common. A love of football and sports. And you bonded, watching vicariously as Delia paraded her full life in front of both of you. You also sounded more upset about Amy’s reaction to what happened with Derek than you did about Delia’s. And you hit Derek because of what he said about Amy.”
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t have hit someone who said that about anyone?”
“Yeah. I probably would have hit him too,” Chad said.
Sy shook his head, like he could shake the conversation back in the right direction. “You’ve got it all wrong. I liked Delia for years. Romantically. I hated that I let Ames down. I mean, she looked up to me.”
“Like a crush.”
“Like an older brother.”
“We can agree to disagree on that,” Chad said. Sy could practically hear the smirk in Chad’s voice.
Sy wished they were meeting in person right now. Chad wouldn’t be laughing if he saw the expression on Sy’s face. He managed to tamp down his irritation.
“Am I being ridiculous?” Sy asked. “Should I turn around and head back to San Antonio?”
“No way,” Chad said. “You’ve got other friends in Katy, right?”
“Then that’s far better than spending the holidays alone. Look, as I’ve told you, doing things spur of the moment or impulsively isn’t always bad. It’s part of your personality, who you are. You’re adventurous. You like new things and jumping into the unknown. That’s great. You wouldn’t want to change that completely. You just need healthy places to do so. This seems like one of those places. Did you ever apologize to Delia or Amy?”
“Nope. I didn’t speak to Amy or Delia again. Or their parents.”
“Maybe it’s time to make peace with your past.”
Looking down at the pad, Sy realized that his random doodling had morphed into writing Delia and Amy over and over, until their names filled a whole page. “Maybe you’re right.”
Chapter Two
Sy
“Hey, Delia! Sorry I ruined your prom. Maybe we could do dinner and catch up? Ames, I’m sorry for disappointing you. But I’m so glad you made it through cancer!”
Groaning, Sy spun his hands on the wheel. That was terrible. Worse than terrible. Since he left the hotel that morning, Sy had been trying to come up with the right words for an apology. You know, if he was brave enough to seek Delia and Amy out to actually say that he was sorry.
Sy was more of a brawn-than-brains kind of guy. Action, not words. And it wasn’t like there was a standard way to tell your childhood crush and her little sister that you were sorry that you single-handedly ruined prom.
Yeah, he had Googled it. Nothing.
“Remember that time I got arrested on prom night and you had to go alone? I’m really sorry about that, Delia.”
His ideas were getting worse. Heck, maybe the twins would help him with his apology. Elton was a sweet talker and would probably have some great suggestions. Easton was a lot quieter, but he had a way of seeing into the heart of situations.
Sy eased his Range Rover off the highway, curling his lip at all the new development. Every time he came back to Katy—which wasn’t as often since his parents moved to Arizona—Sy recognized less and less. He passed a few gas stations, a huge grocery store, and a strip mall complete with a fireworks stand set up already for Christmas and New Year’s. Texans never did tire of blowing things up.
Fourth of July? Blow things up, big-time.
Christmas? Blow more things up.
New Year’s Eve? You guessed it. Boom!
Maybe that’s what Sy needed to apologize to Delia.
“Sorry about prom, Delia. You too, Ames. Let me show you how sorry I am … with fireworks!”
Sy began to laugh, wondering if this is what it felt like to go over the edge. Or maybe he had gone over it years ago and was only now beginning to notice.
A street sign caught his eye and Sy hit the brakes, realizing that he had almost missed the turn for Elton and Easton’s road. Where a cow pasture once stood, there was now a fancy gated neighborhood with a lake where residents could water-ski. Who needed to water-ski in their neighborhood? Apparently, the people living in all the giant homes surrounding the lake.
Sy shook his head as he turned down what had once been a familiar road. Planned communities lined both sides of the street all the way up to the twins’ twenty-acre property. They were the last holdouts who hadn’t sold their small farm to developers. Sy hoped they never would.
As he passed the wooden alligator mailbox in their driveway, Sy kissed his palm and hit it on the roof. It was something he started doing in high school whenever he came to their house, which had been almost as often as he hung out at Delia and Amy’s. Sticking to the tradition at the mailbox felt right. Like good luck. Right now, Sy would take all the help he could get.
Around the back of the house, Sy parked next to a Dodge Ram he didn’t recognize. Easton’s old, restored truck was parked back by the barn. Elton had a new car every time Sy came into town, but it was always something shiny and fancy. A Ram wasn’t his style. Hopefully it wasn’t another house guest.
He really should have called to make sure the twins would be okay with him staying. Not that Sy couldn’t afford a hotel, but that would leave him with too much time alone. Right now, that was the last thing he wanted.
As Sy walked up the back steps, he noted a few changes since he last visited. They had put in a wheelchair ramp along one side of the wraparound porch. Probably for Cilla, one of their friends who had lost the use of her legs right after high school. The roses that their mother had grown around the porch were gone, leaving the farmhouse looking strangely bleak. Both the twins’ parents had been killed in a car wreck three years ago.
Had that been the last time Sy came to Katy—for the Boyds’ funeral? If so, it had been even longer than he thought.
Sy stepped into the kitchen, and then stopped. The screen door slammed closed behind him as he stood with his mouth open.
“Pax?”
At the table, holding a bag of frozen peas to his very swollen face, sat Paxton Shaw, an old friend who had played football with him in high school. Back in the day, along with Elton and Easton, they helped Katy get to the state championship, even if they didn’t win the title that year. They hadn’t kept in touch, but they had lived parallel lives. Sy went to University of Texas while Pax went to Texas A&M. Pax went pro, just like Sy, and now played for Dallas. The Mustangs had lost to them not a month before.
Pax stood up and dropped the peas on the table. “Hey, Sy. Long time since I’ve seen you off the field.”
They did their best bro hug. Sy looked around the room as Pax fell back into a chair and held the frozen peas back up to his face.
“Where are Elton and Easton? And what brought you back into town?”
“E’s in the barn and Elton—who knows. Out somewhere. As for why I’m here, not really sure, to be honest. You?”
Sy laughed and sat down. “Same. Are you staying here?”
Pax nodded.
Dang. That meant the guest room would be occupied. Hopefully, it would just be for a night or two. “Who gave you the shiner?”
“Didn’t catch his name.”
Pax kept his expression steady, but Sy knew exactly what his answer meant. He shook his head. “Fight night? Really, man?”
The twins had been running fight nights since their high school days. Their older brother had been the one to start them. Back then, they were just tussles for fun. A way to get out some of that testosterone. By the time senior year rolled around, they’d taken a few steps further, adding betting into the mix. In high school, Pax was a regular fighter. What most people didn’t know was that Pax used the money to support his family.
Why do it now? Sy wondered.
“It’s all over the internet if you want to watch a play-by-play,” Pax said.
Sy flinched. “Uh-oh. Guess the league knows?”
“Yep.”
That couldn’t be good. More and more, the league cracked down on the players’ extracurricular activities. They weren’t likely to look away from taking part in something like fighting. Pax might incur fines or even be benched for a game or two. This close to the end of the season, it could mean Pax was done. His team might not want to keep him on after something like this.
“Sorry, man.”
Pax shrugged. “My choice. I’ll deal with the consequences.”
Standing, Sy stretched his arms above his head. “I’m going to join E out in the barn. Good to see you. I’m sure I’ll see you around if you’re here for a while.”
“I’ll be here for the week.”
Great. Now I definitely need a hotel, Sy thought as he made his way out to the old barn. “Easton?”
His voice echoed in the empty space. A big red circle showed where the fighting ring had been the night before. He thought he could see a bloodstain deep in the concrete. He kicked it with the toe of his boot.
Opening one of the doors in the back, Sy found an office in what had been Elt
on’s old bedroom. For their sixteenth birthdays, the twins’ parents had converted stalls into bedrooms so they could live in the barn with their horses. They literally grew up in a barn, like the punchline of some joke. Of course, their rooms were like something out of a home decor show with flat-screen TVs and gaming consoles.
Sy headed outside and kept walking to the new barn closer to the back of the property, feeling the sun beating down on his back. He found Easton brushing out a large, black horse cross-tied in the center of the aisle.
The horse’s hooves clattered against the concrete barn floor when it saw Sy. It tossed its head, rolling its eyes and pressing its ears down. Sy knew horses well enough to stay back. Easton glanced back at Sy, then put a hand on the horse’s neck and whispered something before speaking to Sy.
“Hey, brother.”
“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” Sy said.
Easton shrugged. “It’s Christmas. You never know who will come home for Christmas. Did you see Pax inside?” Sy nodded, as Easton patted the neck of the big horse. “Let me put this guy away and we can catch up.”
Sy leaned against the barn wall, watching as Easton led the horse into his stall, speaking quietly to him the whole time. Easton came back through the stall door and hung up the halter. “Come on back to my workshop. I was about to do some sanding. I have a few things to finish up before Christmas.”
Easton led the way to his workshop toward the back. Sy was the furthest thing from a cowboy, but he loved the smell of horse and leather mixed with freshly sanded wood. Easton flicked on the lights in the workshop and Sy admired the pieces of furniture around the room.
“I still need to order a kitchen table from you.”
“Anytime, man. Just say the word and send me an idea of what you’d like, plus measurements. You’ve got the friends-and-family discount.”
Sy shook his head. “Don’t need a discount, brother.”
Easton smiled. “Suit yourself.” He uncovered a beautiful table in the center of the room. Sy ran a hand along it. It was dark wood with what looked like a turquoise inlay poured into the grain in a few places.