Shepard: Just wanted to point all that out in case you believe in that bullshit too.
Denver: Cynic.
Shepard: Realist.
Denver: I believe everything happens for a reason, even if we don’t know what it is at the time. I believe things are mapped out for us. It may seem like we’re making all the decisions, but it’s what has been intended all along. I DO think you can settle down with one person forever.
Shepard: Yet you’re against AJ and Allie getting hitched?
Denver: I never said that. I said I was against them doing it in high school. I never said I didn’t think they’d last forever.
Shepard: I give it until spring when they’re deciding on which colleges to go to.
Shepard: College ALWAYS breaks people up.
Denver: They could stand the test of time, Shepard. You never know.
Shepard: Shep. Just call me Shep.
Denver: Can I call you Slug?
Shepard: FUCK NO! I HATE that nickname.
Denver: Why?
Denver: It’s kind of cute.
Shepard: You think slugs are cute?
Denver: Hmm…good point. No.
Denver: Why do you hate it?
Shepard: Because it symbolizes a whole bunch of bullshit.
Denver: You’re talented when it comes to explaining things. Has anyone ever told you that?
Shepard: That was sarcasm, right?
Denver: DUH
Shepard: It’s just… No. I’m not telling you this shit. It’s mushy.
Denver: You tell me a secret and I’ll tell you one of mine. Like last time.
Shepard: Fine. Here goes…
Shepard: My dad always called me Slugger. It was his thing and I hated it when he was around, but after he passed, I missed it all the time. Enter my stepdad, Jack. He was into the whole Slugger nickname too. I missed my dad so much that I loved it when Jack called me that, so I didn’t mind. I kind of thought it was…
Shepard: Holy fuck, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but…I thought it was fate or some shit, like it was meant to be between him and my mom, Rose.
Shepard: Anyway, he called me Slugger, but then…then he and Zach shortened it to Slug because, and I’ll be honest here, I kind of turned into a conceited prick for a bit when I was about 14/15. They said I was “slimy like a slug”. My team picked up on the nickname. AJ picked up on it. It stuck. I became Slug.
Denver: I have a lot of comments.
Denver: 1. Your mom’s name is Rose, and your dad’s name is Jack? Like Titanic?
Shepard: Your parents let you watch Titanic?
Denver: I watched it at Allie’s. She’s obsessed with Leo.
Shepard: Yes, those are their names. They met at grief counseling. They’re both widowed.
Denver: I’m sorry for both of their losses. And yours. As much as my parents drive me bonkers and I hate living under their rules, I can’t imagine losing one of them.
Denver: 2. I promise to only ever call you Slug when I truly hate you. It’ll be code so you’ll know I’m pissed.
Shepard: I think you just called us friends again.
Denver: Shut up, Shep.
4
Shepard
Dog food.
All I was going to the store for was some damn dog food.
But here I am, hard as a fucking rock while driving down the county road with Denver Andrews as my passenger.
She spoons a mouthful of mint chocolate chip ice cream into her mouth and moans.
Again.
Is she trying to fucking kill me?
She hopped into my truck with her bags and immediately began rummaging around in my glovebox, not stopping until she found the lone random plastic spoon in there, and then she proceeded to pop open a pint of my favorite ice cream.
She knows it’s my favorite too.
“I didn’t expect you to drive a truck.”
“Yeah?”
She shakes her head. “You don’t seem like a truck guy.”
“What kind of guy do I seem like, Den?”
“An asshole.”
My body shakes with laughter at her deadpan answer.
“And what else?”
“Sports car. Definitely sports car. You have that I have a small dick and need to make myself feel better about it with horsepower sort of vibe.”
I grin. “While it’s oddly specific, I see what you mean. It’s the jock angle, right? Most jocks are like that.”
“What made you get a truck? It’s kind of…hot.”
“Well fucking well. Did you just call me hot, Denny?”
She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, rearranging herself until she’s sitting up straighter. She shoves another mouthful of ice cream in then says, “No.”
“Huh? I couldn’t hear you through all your manners over there.” I snatch the container of deliciousness out of her hands. “Give me that. I didn’t say you could eat in here anyway.”
She reaches for it, but I pull it from her grasp.
“It was going to melt, you dick. Give it back!”
“Nope.” I pull the plastic spoon from the pint and lick it clean, not letting myself think too long about the fact that this is probably as close to kissing her as I’ll ever get. “Mine now.”
Denny groans, and I almost wish I hadn’t stolen her ice cream because I’m definitely missing her moans.
She crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes falling to slits as she glares at me. “You cannot eat and drive.”
I toss a wink at her. “Watch me.”
“I hate you.”
“You keep saying that, but the fact that you’re in my truck proves differently.”
She pulls on the locked door handle, testing to see if she can jump out, I’m sure. I mean, we are going slow enough for her to survive.
“It’s called desperation, Shep.”
“Bullshit. You could have easily called a cab or an Uber. It’s called convenience.”
“I’m sorry, you want me to call a car at this hour? And get murdered? Wow, I knew you hated me, but I didn’t know you hated me that much.”
I never hated you, I want to say.
I don’t.
“You tried to murder me with a box of tampons earlier. Fair is fair.”
“Oh my god. You can live without an eye, Shep.”
“Not if you’re a famous baseball player.”
“Oh, famous, huh?” She laughs. “Someone’s getting a little big for their britches.”
“You did just see my face on the cover of a magazine, right?”
“It was a local gossip trash-zine, and it was your mug shot. Are you really proud of that?”
There are a lot of things in my life I’m not proud of—what I did to Denny being one of them—but the thing that really hit home for me? Almost losing everything I’ve worked so fucking hard for because I couldn’t handle my emotions like a goddamn pre-teen.
After I nearly lost my career over my unresolved issues, I vowed to turn my shit around and get it together before I mess up so bad I can’t charm my way out of it, turning over a new leaf and all that other sappy look at the new me shit.
I shovel the ice cream into my mouth to avoid answering her, taking the biggest bite I can while keeping the truck on the road.
We’re quiet for a few miles, sitting in that same uncomfortable silence as before.
“What happened anyway, Shep?” she asks in a hushed tone.
It’s an easy story to tell, really. I was in a club up north hanging with some pals and we started bragging about our best college conquests. Are we immature pigs? Probably, but it was fun and innocent.
Until someone brought up Denny.
I saw fucking red.
All over my hands. All over the floor.
I beat the shit out of the guy and broke a few things in the process. Luckily, he didn’t press charges, but the club did for destruction of property.
My coach and PR team decided I needed some time of
f to “clean up my act”. With this and what happened with my brother and his girl my senior year of college—another stupid fucking mistake of mine—I'm on thin ice.
“It’s nothing,” I tell her eventually.
“Shepard…” It comes out as a plea, and I want to spill all my secrets to her right here.
I don’t.
“What are you doing? Why are you messing this up? It’s all you’ve ever dreamed about.”
I snort. “Messing it up—like I’m doing it on purpose or some shit.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No!”
She flinches as the word vibrates across the cab of the truck.
“No,” I repeat quietly. “I’m not. It’s just…I get…”
“Stupid?”
My lips twitch. “No. I get…emotional.”
Her hand flies to her mouth as her lips drop apart in false shock. “Why, are you telling me you, Shepard Clark, king of assholes, have…feelings?” She pokes at me. “You telling me there’s a heart in there somewhere?”
You know I have a fucking heart, Denny. You of all people know I do.
My skin burns from the touch, which is so fucking stupid considering it was just a poke, and I shift away from her as best I can before it’s painfully obvious that my cock is straining against my jeans, begging to be touched.
I toss her an easygoing grin, hoping she doesn’t look at my lap. “Under all the ice, sure.”
“Layers and layers…and layers of ice,” she quips. “So, you gonna tell me what really happened?”
“If I tell you my secret, will you tell me one of yours?” I bargain like old times.
“You don’t deserve my secrets anymore, Shep.” I glance over at her to see she’s staring distantly out the windshield. “We both know that.”
I don’t disagree with her, because she isn’t wrong.
I lost that privilege when I screwed up.
Add that to my very long list of mistakes.
“How’s Zach doing? Your Titanic parents?”
I smile at the thought of my mom and how happy she is with Jack, but that old familiar sting of missing my father hits me and it hurts so fucking bad.
“Mom and Jack are good. Zach and I…well, I’m not really talking to Zach right now.”
She laughs dryly. “Of course you’re not talking to your brother. What’d you do, Shep?”
Annoyance tickles at me. “Why do you assume I did something wrong? Why can’t it be his fault?”
“Because I know you better than that. You’re the king of screwing things up.”
“King of assholes, king of mistakes—no matter how you look at it, you’re still calling me the ruler, Den.”
“You’re obnoxious.”
“Yet here you are.”
“Desperation, Shep. Desper-fucking-ation.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Denny.”
“You can pull in right here.”
“Huh.” I pull the truck up to the window of the security checkpoint. “I didn’t realize we lived so close to each other.”
Her eyes widen. “You live here now?”
“Yeah, while I’m…taking some time off.”
“Oh.”
I can’t tell if that’s a bad oh or a good one.
With Denny? Probably bad.
She leans over the center console and waves to the old man sitting inside the hut.
His eyes narrow as he tries to get a look inside the cab.
“Roll your window down, dumbass,” she hisses.
I comply because I’m truly afraid she’s about to murder me.
“You know him?”
“Of course I do.” She rolls her eyes. “What? Think he’s going to attack me?”
“You never know these days…”
“I’m fairly certain he served in World War II. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
I glance over the old man again, noting the patriotic hat he’s sporting. Fine, he seems harmless.
I roll the window down.
“Hey, Captain.” Denny beams his way.
“Ah, Bucky, I didn’t realize that was you. I was about to hit my panic button. I don’t have these plates in the books.”
My breath hitches.
Captain America and Bucky.
She’s supposed to be my Bucky, not his.
It takes all the strength I can muster to not turn her way, to not let her know just how much it stings that she’d let someone else call her that.
“Just me, Cap. My tire went flat on my run to Smart Shoppe.”
The wrinkled old man narrows his eyes at me. “You didn’t hitch a ride with some stranger, did ya?”
“No. I know him.” I whip my head her way, surprised she’d admit that out loud. “Unfortunately,” she adds as I stare at her with a smirk.
Ah, there she is.
“Should I let him through?”
“You’d be my favorite man in my life if you did.”
“If he gives you any trouble, Bucky…”
“Hit him where it hurts. I know, Cap.”
The old man gives her a thumbs-up and me another glare before pressing the button to lift the gate.
“Cap and Bucky, huh?” I say as casually as I can while pulling forward.
She purses her lips but doesn’t address my inquiry, instead directing me to the building she lives in. “Up ahead and to your left.”
Fine. You win this round, Denny.
I follow her directions until she tells me to stop.
“This is me. See ya.”
She grabs her bags and hops out of the truck before I can say anything else.
What the…
Oh hell no.
I shift into park and toss open my door.
“Denny! Wait up!”
She whirls toward me, wide-eyed and startled. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Walking you inside.”
“Like hell you are. I’m not letting you know which apartment is mine. Besides, you can’t just leave your truck in the middle of the parking lot.”
“Watch me,” I say, catching up to her. “You are not walking up there alone in the middle of the night.”
“What did you think I was going to do if you weren’t here? Have Cap walk me inside? There are like two dozen stairs in that building—I am not going to be responsible for the death of Captain America.”
My lips pull into a grin, and I can see the fire in her eyes the moment they do.
I’ve missed that fire.
It’s the same look she’d give me all throughout college anytime our paths would cross. It’d burn especially hot whenever I’d have another girl on my arm.
I always did like playing with fire.
“It’s not happening, Shep,” she says with a false finality.
“Like hell it isn’t, Andrews. Better get moving or the rest of your ice cream is going to melt.”
She stares down at her paper bags, mouth agape. “How did you know I have more ice cream?”
I lean toward her until our faces are inches apart and regret it immediately.
She smells like mint chocolate chip and I want to press my lips against hers to get a taste. Her green eyes—which remind me of that green mint color I love—are bright and clear as she stares up at my six-foot-two frame.
“Because I know you better than anyone else in this entire world, Denver.”
My eyes drift to her lips again as they part on a gasp.
She inches closer.
Lips nearly touching now.
Eyes locked in an intense stare.
The urge to press my lips against hers swells, but I know I shouldn’t. I’d be pushing things way too far.
Besides, I don’t deserve her kisses.
Not anymore.
“Did.”
I can hardly hear her over the drumming of blood pumping through my veins. Her tongue darts out and she wets her lips.
“You did know me, Shep, but a lot has changed in the last si
x years. I’m not the same starry-eyed girl who fell for all your lines. I won’t fall into that trap again.”
She stands tall and takes a step away from me.
The pounding in my ears begins to subside as she puts distance between us.
I miss the pounding.
“Thanks for the ride. Goodbye.”
Goodbye, not good night—so permanent.
So certain.
So…not going to fucking happen.
I lost Denver once before. It’s not going to happen again.
5
Denver
“No way!”
“I know! Can you believe it? After all these years, it’s finally happening. I’m getting married!”
I stare down at the phone screen, laughing as my best friend, Allie, flashes me her huge diamond ring again.
Turns out I was right—Allie and AJ could stand the test of time. College did nothing to diminish their love for one other. All it did was feed it.
It’s weird, though, that AJ would choose today of all days—the one after I spend a night with Shep—to propose.
Shep.
I try to shake away the memory of his jaw tightening when Cap called me Bucky. I remember the first time the old man called me that, how the simple nickname tugged at my heart. It didn’t hurt like it usually did when I heard the name. Instead, it felt good…like it used to when Shep did it.
Texting (The Complete Series Page 67
