Songs For Cricket

by Terri E. Laine

  As we lay again intertwined together, I asked him about my song.

  “I didn’t often hear you play back home. You’d go off in the woods. Why?”

  The night he said he came up with the Cricket song, I’d been in a deck chair listening to faint music coming from the creek.

  “Your father wasn’t exactly a fan. I didn’t want to bother anyone.”

  My father had casually told Shepard when he first moved in that music was a fruitless pursuit.

  “You weren’t bothering me. I used to secretly listen to you play.”

  “You did?”

  The surprise on his face was so damn cute, I kissed him.

  “Yes. You’re amazing. Your voice—”

  He rolled me on my back and silenced any more talking. I was sure I’d be sore the next day. As I drifted off, his fingers combed through my hair, and he hummed words from a song I’d never heard before.

  My phone jerked me awake Wednesday morning. Outside filtered light now lit the tent.

  “Crap,” I muttered, realizing we’d slept there all night.

  His blues flashed open with confusion for a second before he shot up nearly hitting his head on the hanging lantern.

  “Go ahead. I’ll take care of this,” he said as I scurried around to get dressed for practice.

  I masked my sadness that he couldn’t go because his name still hadn’t been cleared. Our lips collided in a rush before I left him in the tent.

  Again, August didn’t ride with Cooper and me that morning. He also hadn’t responded to any of my texts.

  “He’s sulking,” Cooper had said.

  I’d caught sight of August at the morning meeting, but he’d avoided me as I headed to weight training.

  Lifting weights with a bunch of muscle heads turned out to be what the doctor ordered. Their jabs at each other made morning workout funny, which was what I needed before my third day of classes.

  Though I’d scoured open classes to replace Professor Wright’s class, so far I had no luck in finding any available that fit my schedule. I walked in sure I was on time until I heard my name.

  “Miss Farrow, I’m surprised to see you.”

  I angled my phone screen to check the time, and it was at the hour. I wasn’t late.

  “I thought maybe you might have been smart and taken the hint to withdraw like several other students.”

  I quickly glanced about and saw there were a few open seats compared to last class.

  “Maybe I should remind everyone that if you’re looking for an easy A, you won’t find one in my class. Your grade will be solely based on a semester long project. You fail the project, you fail the class. Unlike some professors, I believe that real world application is appropriate for a second-year class. This gives you time to change your major if you’re not cut out to be an architect.”

  I moved to take a seat, and he stopped me.

  “Before you get comfortable, Ms. Farrow, you need to hear what that project is so you can make a decision now and not waste any more of your or my time.”

  I never understood hate of another person you hadn’t really met before, but I was experiencing it now. The malice on his face while his glare bore into mine was chilling.

  However, instead of cowering under the pressure, I rolled my shoulders back and waited.

  “For this semester’s project,” he began, like he changed them each time he taught this class. “I will be the client. And you will pitch, design, and prepare a detailed proposal with a budget for a rehabilitation project of something left in ruin. Although I’m the client, I’m giving you the ability to choose a house, building, amusement park, whatever, to present to me. Everyone will be given the same fictitious budget. If you need more, you will have to present that to me by Friday next week. I won’t require drawings or plans, but be prepared to answer questions for me to see the viability of your project. If I reject it, you will be given another opportunity, but you will lose points toward your final grade. I suggest for you to not miss a class as I will be giving real world examples during my lectures you will not find in your textbook.”

  The smart choice would have been to drop the class and take an extra class next semester. But I found myself rising to his challenge and sitting down after he finished his speech.

  When I came home from practice, I immediately started searching online. It was better if I had an idea of what I wanted to do, so I could make sure I had the relevant notes if I dared ask questions in his next class.

  “Hey.”

  I glanced over to see Shep leaning on my doorframe. I’d been so caught up with ideas, I hadn’t stopped to say hi when I had come home.

  “Hey back,” I said.

  “You look busy.”

  I wanted to wrap myself around him. As he stood, his thumbs hooked into cutoff jeans with frayed ends. The worn T-Shirt he wore looked soft from wear.

  “My professor hates me,” I began.

  The story unfolded off my chest, releasing the weight I’d been carrying.

  “He sounds like a dick, but you’re better.” He strode over and cupped my face, and I angled my head to look up at him. “You’re the girl that’s made a sport out of proving people wrong. When our science teacher said you couldn’t make a bottle rocket using soda as fuel, you did it.”

  I remembered that but was surprised Shep did.

  “With butane, and he knew it could be done. He was trying to teach us using water,” I said.

  “But he challenged you in front of the class, and you went home and figured it out. And here you are on your way to being the captain of the football team.”

  “Am not.” I giggled.

  “But you could if you wanted to. Don’t let that asshole get the best of you. You’re incredibly smart, and I’m sure you’ll bust his balls by knocking his socks off.” He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “Study and research. I’ve got reading to do.”

  I nodded, though a part of me felt like nothing I did for the professor would be good enough.

  That night I fell asleep trying to find the right project. When I awoke, I was disappointed to find Shepard not with me. How easily I’d gotten used to waking up with him after only a few nights.

  The next evening, Shepard claimed he had a lot of work, and I spent another lonely night. I had narrowed down a few run-down buildings in Texas near where we lived that I could use in my real-world application to change something old into something new.

  When Friday arrived, I stopped at Shep’s door before leaving.

  “Come in,” he said.

  He lay on his bed, arm half covering his face. I stood there, watching his chest rise and fall before I walked over. I sat and laid my head on the center of his chest to listen to his heart beat. He wrapped his arms around me.

  “You should go. You’re going to be late,” he said.

  “I hate this. I wish you were going.”

  I didn’t elaborate. I knew better than anyone how much this bullshit accusation was killing him because it was killing me. We were leaving for our away game that afternoon instead of practice, and Shepard couldn’t come.

  “So do I. Now go.”

  In lieu of all the meaningless things I could say, I said the words I hadn’t said since that first night.

  “I love you.”

  I closed my eyes to fight back the angry tears as his arms banded tighter around me for a long moment. Then they fell away. I could hear August yelling for me downstairs, but I took my time to give him a lingering kiss.

  “You’re going to do great, Cricket.”

  He hadn’t repeated my words back to me. I fought against the sting because I’d felt his love in the reluctant way he let me go and in the haunted look in his eyes. I practically ran from his room, having left my duffle near the stairs, no need to add insult to injury.

  I turned back a second to watch him toss a ball in the air and catch it. It was the saddest thing I’
d seen in my life. I’d never seen Shepard look so miserable since the day he found out he had to move out of his house next door.

  Practice turned out to be more of a meeting with light warm-ups which I relished. I had extra energy when I arrived for Professor Wright’s class and took Shepard’s advice. When the professor called me out as I entered the class, I didn’t stop this time. I found a seat. He didn’t press further and started class. Either I was winning his game or he was planning to checkmate me during my proposal meeting, which I hadn’t made yet. But I had plans to win the war.

  Later that afternoon, instead of using the time on the drive to Houston for research, I popped on my headphones and tapped on the incoming file Shepard had sent me.

  Melodious guitar strings thrummed in my ear with a drum beat in the background before his lyrical words chimed in.

  To Cricket

  I want to tell her how I feel

  How amazing she is

  How much she appeals;

  Cause life’s too short

  I want her to be with me

  I want to be an us

  I want there to be a we

  You and me;

  I didn’t know I had tears in my eyes as his words continued until Billy slid into the empty seat next to me. I pressed pause wanting to experience Shepard’s song by myself.

  “Are you okay?”

  I quickly wiped my tears away.

  “I’m fine,” I said, studiously not looking at him. “I’ve got something in my eye.”

  It had to be the lamest excuse ever, but he seemed to buy it.

  “I know this is your first game, but we’ve got your back.”

  “Thanks,” I said, keeping my face forward.

  “You know I think it sucks what’s happening to Shepard.”

  His words caught my attention, and I faced him.

  He shrugged. “I don’t like the guy, but he’s getting a crap deal.”

  I didn’t know what I’d been hoping for when he brought up Shepard. Whatever it was, I didn’t get it. I turned away to stare out the window.

  “You know, she’s done this before.”

  I spun around so fast I might have gotten whiplash.

  “She has?” I asked.

  He shrugged again. “Last year. This guy on the team left school because she said similar things about him. We all assumed . . .” I didn’t have to guess at what. “But now again with Shepard. Either she’s got the worst luck or . . .”

  “She’s lying,” I said unabashedly. “Do you know the guy’s name?”

  He thought for a second. “He left before the season started.” His head tipped up as I kept my rapt attention on him. “He was a freshman . . . I think his name was . . . Lonnie.” He tapped his index finger on his lips before he snapped his finger. “I think it’s Lonnie Carter, or something like that.”

  “Thanks,” I said, making a mental note of the name.

  I didn’t want to think she made another false claim against Lonnie, but it was worth looking into. I felt my mood lift.

  We arrived almost seven hours later after stopping along the way for dinner. Before we got off the bus, we were given our room assignments. I was one of the last.

  “Farrow, you’re with Farrow,” Coach said, glancing at me and then back at his clipboard.

  “Can’t my brothers share a room and me be alone?”

  Coach didn’t look up. “I have Farrow with Connel . . .” He stopped.

  “See, I can have my own room,” I said.

  One of my brothers, probably August, had been slated to share a room with Shep.

  He finally glanced up. “Sorry, Farrow. For legal and safety reasons, it’s best if you stay with one of your brothers.”

  Cooper lifted a hand, and Coach handed us a set of key cards.

  “Looks like you have a room of your own,” he said to August.

  I rolled my eyes and went off with Cooper in search of our room. After I got the door open, Cooper didn’t follow me in. I turned, and he stood in the doorway.

  “I’ll bunk with August.”

  He didn’t need to add that I shouldn’t advertise that. He was doing me a favor.

  “Thanks,” I said and closed the door.

  I flopped on the first bed and wished Shepard was there covering me with his big body and kissing down my cheek to my . . .

  A knock sounded. I got to my feet and plodded over, certain Cooper had either been caught or August sent him back to babysit me. I thrust the door open and said his name ready to argue with his return.

  “Cooper.”

  32

  shepard

  The news I’d gotten Friday morning from the lawyer Sawyer and Shelly had arranged for me hadn’t been good. Though everyone had thought it would be resolved before week’s end, it hadn’t happened. The cops were still analyzing the latest video Finn had provided them. The university’s administration had also not lifted my ban, so there was no way for me to play in the first game.

  Watching Finley walk away that morning had been hell. I’d spent the day trying to find a way to get to Houston. Everything was out of my price range, including a bus ticket, or it would get me there too late, way after she would have gone to bed.

  I’d resigned myself to watching the game on TV. Yet, there I stood.

  The door opened, and I heard her say, “Cooper.”

  She looked like an angel, a gift I didn’t deserve. I quelled her shock at seeing me by stepping forward, taking her face in my hands, and kissing the hell out of her as the door clicked shut behind us.

  “How?” she asked when I gave her a second to breathe, while moving us further in the room.

  “Cooper. He showed up, gave me his car keys, and told me to take the car.”

  “I owe him big time.”

  Cooper was often underestimated.

  “He made it pretty clear that I needed to be here.”

  He’d told me as much as he liked me as a friend and thought his brother was being a dickhead, he was doing this for Finley. We agreed that she deserved to have everyone she cared about at her first game. He’d shown up around lunch and had me drop him off at school. I’d followed the bus all the way to Houston. When they’d parked, I’d waited. Cooper said he’d text me Finley’s room number. And sure enough, he had.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said with the biggest grin.

  I scooped her up, urging her legs around my waist, and brought our lips close together.

  “So am I.” When she wiggled herself against me, I set her down on the bed. “We aren’t having sex. You need your rest. Tomorrow is a big day.”

  She gaped at me. “You can’t be serious. That’s superstition.”

  It was a thing that having sex before a game could be bad luck. I ran a hand over my head because she made a tempting picture as she half lay on the bed in offering.

  “It’s not so much sex as ensuring you get enough sleep. If we start, I doubt I’ll even think about the time. So just get ready for bed, and then let me hold you.”

  When had I ever wanted to hold someone? Everything was different when it came to her. I would be hard as hell all night if she was pressed against me, but I would do it.

  “Fine,” she said with a bit of defiance in her tone.

  She scooted off the bed and prowled over like she was spoiling for a fight.

  “Finley,” I warned.

  Her hands were fast at work unfastening my belt.

  Her pouty lip begged to be kissed.

  “You said we should get undressed and go to bed.”

  Though she sounded reasonable, her eyes told a different story. I was held captive by their intensity as she unzipped my jeans and slid them down my legs until gravity took over.

  When her hand wrapped around me, I hadn’t seen it coming. My jaw unlocked as she lifted on her toes and fastened her mouth to mine, stroking me until I couldn’t get any harder.

&nb
sp; “Finley.”

  She smirked at me before dropping to her knees. I tried to move back, but my feet were tangled in my jeans pooled at my feet. Her fingers dug into my ass as her mouth slid over the head of my cock.

  “Fuck,” I muttered.

  As much as I’d planned to be strong and fight against the pull to be the closest to her in any possible way; seeing her on her knees with her mouth on me was more than any man could bear.

  I tangled my hand in her hair as she took more of me in. I covered her hand that was fisted around me and guided it up and down my shaft while biting my lip.

  It was too good to the point I wouldn’t last. I let go of her hand and wrapped it around the base to stop myself from coming. I used my hold on her head to pop her free.

  “Fine,” I said. “We’ll do it your way.”

  I helped her to her feet, only to send her tumbling with a squeal of delight to the bed. All my brain cells fled the building, and I had one goal, to be inside her. Her shorts came off easily as I pulled them down her legs and tossed them to the side. I left her shirt alone, knowing I could shove it up and out of the way.

  “Spread those pretty legs for me,” I said.

  I wedged myself between her parted thighs, needing not only to claim but to conquer.

  She was so wet and ready for me, I didn’t think. I coated myself in her moisture before thrusting inside.

  I found my way to heaven and groaned in the crook of her neck, one hand up her shirt squeezing her tit. Her arms had chained themselves around me and found my ass. She urged my movements faster while meeting my every stroke. It was so fucking good, I doubted I could recite the alphabet under the pressure of death in that moment. Nothing in my life had ever felt like this.

  Using one arm, I lifted her ass for a deeper angle.

  “Yes,” she whimpered. “Like that, I’m so close.”

  My once virgin was greedy and knew what she wanted. I loved every second of her demands and gave her exactly what she asked for, a little harder, a little deeper, a little longer stroke.

  She moaned right before her walls clamped down with the force of a boa constrictor. Fucking hell, I couldn’t hold it back any longer and exploded inside her seeing her head thrown back, hair fanned out over the pillow.