by L A Cotton
“What’s up, buddy?” He beckoned me down to him, so I crouched down to meet his eye level.
Tentatively, he leaned in, cupping his hands around his mouth. “O- open envelope please,” he said.
“Yeah?” My heart almost burst.
He nodded, looking skittish. I didn’t want to scare him off, so I steeled myself and kept an even tone. “That’s really great to hear, Hugo. Shall we go get it down?”
“Yes, please.” His voice was barely a whisper, but his words were perfect.
I stood and held out my hand. Hugo took it, and everyone in the center stopped to watch as we crossed the room and I plucked the envelope off the shelf, handing it to him.
“Go ahead, open it,” I said. “And then we can see if we can make your wish come true.”
Asher
“Stop,” Diego grunted. “You’re like a fucking yo-yo.”
“I’m just nervous.”
“Dude, it’s a bunch of kids. What could possibly go wrong?”
Diego had clearly never met some of the kids Mya worked with. They wouldn’t hesitate to tell us if what we had planned was totally lame and uncool. But hopefully they would all enjoy it.
Especially Hugo.
Mya had come home that day—the day he finally chose to use his words—a teary-eyed emotional mess. I’d held her while she cried her happy tears and then she’d given me a blow-by-blow account of what had happened.
The little guy had done amazing, so it was only right he got to see his wish come true. Coach had been able to pull a few strings, and together, he and Sally had arranged the event at the football field today.
“They’re here.” I spotted Mya and Sally and a handful of the other volunteers walking out of the tunnel with Hugo, his brothers, and some of the other kids in New Hope’s program for kids in the foster care system.
They were wide-eyed, their expressions full of wonder as they took in the vastness of the Lincoln Financial Field stadium.
“Come on,” I said to the guys. “Let’s go introduce ourselves. And remember, keep cussing to a minimum.”
“Yeah, yeah, Bennet, keep your hair on. I think we can behave for an hour.” Aiden chuckled.
“Hey.” Mya reached us. We were here on official team business, but it didn’t stop me leaning in to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. “They’re so excited,” she whispered.
“How are you all doing?” I asked the huddle of kids. Jay and Mario were grinning ear to ear, but most of the other kids looked like Hugo, completely awestruck.
“You ready to play some ball with us?”
A chorus of ‘yeahs’ filled the air. “Well, before we get started with some warm-up activities, I have a little surprise for you. Bring him out, Coach,” I yelled.
“You did it,” Mya breathed, reaching my hand, as we watched Swoop the eagle traipse out onto the field.
Hugo clapped his hands with glee, and I crouched down to his level. “What do you think, buddy?”
He looked at me with tears shining in his eyes, and whispered, “Best. Day. Ever.”
Mya
“Hey guys, over here.” Faith beckoned us over to where she and Rex were sitting. “We didn’t think you were going to make it.”
“We almost didn’t,” Asher murmured, and I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Play nice,” I mouthed.
When Faith had called to ask if Asher and I would meet her for drinks, I’d almost told her no. Things between us were okay, but I'd had no intentions of putting her and Asher in a room together anytime soon. But he’d overheard the call and said everyone deserved a second chance. So here we were, meeting Faith and... Rex, for drinks.
Odd, she hadn’t mentioned him in her original invitation.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Rex said to Asher.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Listen, I hope there are no hard feelings about before. You guys are perfect for each other, and I was being a judgmental bastard.”
“No hard feelings.” Asher squeezed my hand under the table, his touch lingering on my finger.
We still hadn’t picked out a ring, but honestly, I didn’t need one. I had everything I could ever want. We were engaged, I turned twenty-one soon, and things at the center were going great since Asher got the team involved.
The session that day had gone so well, both Coach Johnson and Sally had wanted to make it a regular thing. She was currently looking at setting up the infrastructure to make it a permanent feature of the center’s program.
It had been such a great day, watching the kids interact and bond with the team. Hugo had followed Asher around like a lost puppy and the two of them had become fast friends. So much so, that Asher had signed up for the program’s in-house training sessions so he could be an official volunteer.
Life was good.
Perfect, even.
We’d celebrated our engagement over the weekend back in Rixon. Asher’s mom had invited my aunt for dinner and the five of us enjoyed good food and easy conversation, the tension of our past staying right where it belonged. Even Asher’s dad had managed to congratulate us, hugging me tight and telling me that the wedding was taken care of; all we had to do was let him know what we wanted.
But I didn’t want a big fanfare. All I needed was something small with the people I cared about most in the world.
“I like this place,” I said, glancing around the coffee shop Faith had picked. “It has character.”
“Right? We come here a lot.”
“You do?” I frowned, glancing between her and Rex. Guilt shone in Faith’s eyes.
“Actually, that’s why I asked you to come. There’s something I have to tell you... and I don’t want it to be weird, all right? But you’re one of my best friends and I know I was a total bitch at the beginning of the semester—”
“Faith take a breath. What is going on?”
“Oh, Boo Boo, just spit it out already. She isn’t going to care.”
Boo Boo? What the hell?
Asher almost choked on his coffee.
“Me and Rex, well, we’re—”
“Together. We’re together, okay?” He huffed dramatically. “Good. Now we can all move on with life.”
“I’m sorry, can we just back up a second, to the part where you just said the two of you are...”
“Together?” Rex smirked.
“I did not see that coming.” Asher let out a low whistle and I nudged him again.
“I know, I know.” Faith buried her face in her hands. “I’m a complete hypocrite.”
“How long has this been going on?” I asked.
“Officially, a couple of weeks.”
“And unofficially?”
“We were fucking most of the summer.”
“Rex!” Faith hissed.
“So the summer of sexual inhibition and self-discovery was—”
“I lied. And I feel like a horrible person. But things with Rex were confusing and I didn’t want to jump headfirst from one relationship into another. God, you must think I’m such a bitch.”
“Faith, stop.” I sighed. “Are you happy?”
“Yeah, I mean... it’s new and unexpected. But Rex is so different to Max.”
“Well, duh.” He grinned, sliding his arm around her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see it, at all,” Asher said.
“That makes two of us,” Faith offered him an uncertain smile. “But the heart wants what the hearts want, am I right? Listen, I really am sorry about everything I said to Mya.”
“She’s forgiven you,” he said, “so I guess that makes us cool.”
“As long as you’re happy,” I added, “what me or anyone else thinks shouldn’t matter.”
“You’re right, it shouldn’t. But I don’t always find it easy to shake people’s expectations.”
“You’ll get there, Boo Boo.” Rex nuzzled her neck, and I sat there watching, completely bewildered. They were so... different. Faith was al
l about appearances and what other people thought, and Rex was... Rex. He didn’t really conform to gender stereotypes or label himself as straight or gay.
It was weird... but even weirder was the fact that as I watched them whisper to one another, wrapped up in their own little bubble, it didn’t seem weird at all.
“Well, I don’t know about anyone else,” Asher said. “But I’m really glad we cleared the air.”
My friends chuckled, and I smiled, a strange sensation washing over me.
I’d been Faith once upon a time. A girl lost and unsure of her place in the world, wanting to break free from the stereotypes forced on her. Then I’d found Asher and he’d taught me love had no limits. It was hard and messy and chaotic, but worth the fight and the tears and the heartache.
Love was what made us human.
But how someone else loved us made us feel more than human.
And Asher...
He loved me enough to make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
Part III
Senior Year
Cameron
“Chase, a word?” Coach beckoned me toward his office, and I weaved my way through the locker room. The air was warm, the smell of sweaty cleats and wet grass lingering.
Practice had been grueling, and I knew Coach Byford probably wanted to know where my head was at.
“Hey, Coach.”
“Take a seat, son.” He motioned to the seat opposite his desk and I sat. “Do I need to be worried?” Fingers steepled, he sat back, studying me.
“It’s my brother, sir. He’s...” Fuck. I didn’t know what the hell was going on with Xander. He’d only been in second grade a few weeks and my parents had already been called in four times.
Four.
“He’s finding it tough.”
Coach whipped off his ball cap and let out a long breath. “That’s rough, Cameron. I feel for the little fella, I do. But this is your senior year, son, and the team have a real shot at going all the way. I need to know my best wide receiver has his head on straight.”
“I know, Coach. I’m sorry.”
“You’re a good brother, Cam, and you’re a good guy. But the team needs you, here, on the field.”
I nodded, unable to reply over the lump in my throat.
“Scouts are going to be making the rounds soon enough, and you’ve got it, son. But you need to leave all the other crap at the door, okay? When you come into my locker room, you come with a clear head and—”
“And hunger for the win.”
“Damn straight. Now get out of here.”
I got up and made for the door, but Coach’s voice stopped me at the last second. “And Chase?”
“Yes, sir?”
“You ever need to talk, my door is always open.”
“Thanks, Coach.” I gave him a small nod before slipping back into the locker room. My quarterback, a guy called Dominic Sanchez, was waiting.
“Everything good?”
“He’s worried.” My lips pursed.
“Does he need to be worried?”
“I’ll be okay.”
He clapped me on the back. “Do you know what I think you need?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”
Dom guided me over to our corner of the benches. “You need to go find that woman of yours and let her help relieve all the tension you got going on, if you know what I’m saying.”
“Amen to that, brother.” Dylan, our running back, held his hand out and the two of them fist bumped.
“Beats hanging around with you bunch of losers.” I shot back around a smirk. But it was all front.
It had been for a while.
I loved my team. I loved my classes and living in Michigan with Hailee.
But I didn’t love being four-hundred miles from home, from my kid brother and his struggles.
Everyone—Mom, Dad, Jase and Asher, even Hailee—kept telling me it was only eight more months. Eight more months until we could move back to Rixon and be closer to my family. But I couldn’t shake the pit in my stomach, the feeling that this was only the beginning, that Xander knew something the rest of us didn’t.
And that terrified the shit out of me.
“Hailee?” I threw my keys on the sideboard and moved deeper into our loft apartment overlooking the Huron River.
The chilled beats of Röyksopp drifted down the hall and I knew exactly where to find her. Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, I kicked off my sneakers and headed for the mezzanine. Sure enough, Hailee was standing over a canvas with her back to me, paintbrush in hand.
I leaned against the wall for a second, drinking in the sight of her. While I’d found it hard being away from Rixon—from my family—Hailee had flourished at Michigan. She loved every second of her arts degree and her talent had grown substantially. So much so that last spring we’d decided to get a bigger place, somewhere to accommodate her growing collection of paintings and sculptures.
Our new place was perfect. It was an industrial warehouse that had been converted into huge open plan apartments. Ours was lucky enough to have a mezzanine that was perfect for Hailee’s studio, without her feeling locked away in a different part of the apartment.
Her body swayed gently to the music as she brushed long sweeping arcs over the splodges of color already decorating the canvas. Almost four years later, and I still didn’t really understand most of her art. But I loved watching her. Her work attire didn’t hurt the eyes either.
She currently stood in an oversized white shirt that grazed her thighs. Hailee had pulled her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and from the way the shirt was hanging off one shoulder, I knew she’d probably left some buttons open.
Taking a long pull on my beer, I placed it on the sideboard and quietly moved closer. She was too lost in her art to notice me. Or, at least, I was thought she was, until she said, “How long were you watching me?”
“Busted.” I smiled, brushing the stray hairs off her neck and leaning in to press a kiss there.
A shudder rolled through her, and Hailee glanced back at me. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Her words wrapped around me like a warm blanket. She knew. Hailee always knew when something was wrong, but I tried my best to make sure she didn’t know just how much I was struggling. I didn’t want to be a burden, not on her. Not when she’d worked so hard to get here. Studying at STAMPS art and design school had always been her dream, and I’d be damned if I did anything to ruin that.
Besides, it was only eight more months.
“Practice was tough.”
Her brows furrowed. “Let me finish up here and we can—”
“Is it an important piece?” I flicked my gaze to the canvas.
“Just something for me.”
Thank fuck.
I pulled the brush from her fingers and threw it down on the tray.
“Cameron, what are you—”
My fingers slid to her neck, my thumbs smoothing over her soft skin. Hailee’s breath caught. “That bad, huh?” Her eyes darkened.
“It was pretty bad.” I’d fumbled the ball, barely caught Dom’s passes, and defense had taken me down seven out of ten plays.
It was a fucking shit show.
“I’m sorry.” She fisted my hoodie, anchoring us together. “What do you need?”
“You,” I breathed against her lips. “I only need you.”
Hailee
I felt Cameron’s torment as he kissed me. I knew he was worried about Xander; it had gotten worse every year that we were away from Rixon. He constantly reassured me he was okay, that he wanted to graduate from Michigan before we decided what to do after, but it was taking its toll.
His tongue slipped past my lips, curling around mine. Cameron kissed the way he played ball, sure and steady and in complete control. And it wasn’t long before our hands were searching for skin, desperate to touch and explore.
“This needs to go,” he said between kisses,
fingering the buttons of my work shirt.
“Here, let me.” I broke away, helping him undo the buttons, baring myself to him.
More often than not, I painted in just a shirt. I liked the freedom and it saved on laundry.
Cam dipped his head, kissing the curve of my breasts as he backed me against the wall.
“We could take this downstairs,” I suggested. It was a mess up here.
“No,” he breathed. “I need you, Hailee.” His fingers went to his sweats, pushing them down his hips right along with his boxers. His hoodie and t-shirt went next until he was standing in front of me stark naked.
God, he was beautiful. Strong and stacked, his torso was a solid slab of muscle, each ab perfectly chiseled and defined.
I reached for him, trailing my hand over the cherry blossom snaking up his arm. Next, I traced the tattoo he’d gotten of the artwork I’d painted on him with my own hand in senior year. It was our initials—HR and CC—looped together with a delicate heart over his pec.
“What?” he asked, his voice a hushed whisper.
“I love you, Cameron.” So much it scares me.
He crowded me against the wall and picked me up, pressing my back against the bare brick. “Not as much as I love you.” He grasped himself and lined himself up with my center, pressing into me.
“Oh God,” I moaned as I sank down on him.
Cameron stilled, touching his head to mine and taking a shuddering breath.
“It’s okay.” I laid a hand on his cheek. “I’m here, Cameron, I’m right here.”
Burying his face in my neck, he pulled out slowly before thrusting back inside. It was deep like this, intense and overwhelming in the best kind of way.
“Harder,” I said, letting my head fall back. “Take what you need.”
Cam squeezed my hip, hard enough to leave a bruise as he rocked into me over and over. “Fuck, Sunshine,” he groaned. “You feel like heaven.”
He attacked my mouth like a man starved, all tongue and teeth and teasing strokes.
“Cameron...” His name was a breathy plea on my lips as I drowned in sensation.
