by Mj Fields
“Almost midnight, why?” Mom asks.
“Lexi has school in the morning, and I have classes. Logan, you should go—”
“Lucas and I are staying the night, as well.” Tessa looks over at Logan. “He’d love to see you.”
Logan smiles at her. “I’ll stop over when we’re done here.”
“Would love for you to stay. He’s having Ava issues.”
“Still trying to keep everyone away.” He sighs and looks down. “Barely answers her phone anymore.”
“He’s driving himself and me crazy trying to come up with a way to get her to move back home.” Tessa shrugs. “I keep telling him to let her come when she’s ready.”
“Will she ever be?” Logan’s eyebrows knit together.
“When Brody was gone, I felt the same way.” Mom looks at Logan. “Right now, her focus is on those babies. She’ll get there. She’s just trying to work her way through it.”
Brody was missing for nearly a year, and Mom refused to believe he was gone. She was right. And she held tighter to me than she ever had before. Even at eight years old, I remember how hard it was for her, for us.
He nods.
“Logan posted a Snap tonight and she replied,” I tell them, hoping it’ll brighten the somber mood.
“A Snap, huh?” Tessa says, grabbing her phone from her coat pocket.
“For fuck’s sake,” Logan mumbles.
“Nice mouth, sailor,” I joke.
“Sorry, Tessa, Emma,” he sighs.
Tessa starts laughing and reaches over to Mom, “This is great. Logan, I had no idea you could sing.”
“I don’t,” he mumbles.
I laugh. “You so did.”
“Well, maybe you should do it more if it makes Ava reach out.” Tessa gives his hand a squeeze.
“Where was this?” Mom asks in a way I know she’s trying to get information.
“Place called Sound,” Logan tells her.
“Is this where the penis incident occurred?” Tessa snickers, and so do I.
“Is it a bar?” Mom asks.
“They have karaoke on Thursday nights. My friends and I are going to make it a weekly thing.”
She looks at me.
“It’s fun, Mom.”
“Looks like it,” Tessa says, taking back the phone from Mom and looks at Logan. “You and your boys go there often?”
He looks at me and then at her. “Once in a while.”
He totally just lied.
Shit, I think.
“Hey, someone needs to call them and tell them I’ll be back in a couple hours; let them know I’m okay.”
“Mitch is keeping them informed,” Logan assures me.
“Well, then someone needs to tell Mitch if he doesn’t leave Jamie alone, I’m going to crush his...nuts.”
“London!” Mom gasps.
“He’s a good guy,” Logan defends his friend.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“He is.”
“Logan Links,” I say, sitting up. “He used Christy to get to Jamie, then used Jamie and blew her off. Then he comes around and—”
“She blows him off,” he tells me.
“Whatever. He’s a total dick.”
“London,” Mom scolds.
“He’s not—”
“He spent the night with her then ghosted for almost two weeks,” I interrupt him.
“He was busy,” Logan says, his jaw muscles tightening.
“Busy doing what? Or should I say whom?”
“First two months of football are ball-breaking, London. Add classes to that and there is no time,” he further defends.
“What happened to ‘Logan, it’s almost snuggle season’?” I say in my best Mitch voice.
“He’s trying, and she’s blowing him off every chance she gets.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah, maybe he should buy an electric blanket, or...I don’t know, explain to a girl he pitted against her friend that, if he can’t pay ball and focus at the same time, then he should leave her the hell alone.”
“You need to check with your girl.” He chuckles darkly. “She’s playing a game of her own.”
I throw my hands in the air. “What game is that?”
“Give just a little, just enough to make him trip over his own two feet trying to get more, and then be a disrespectful brat when he’s legit trying.”
“Wow, you two haven’t changed.” Tessa laughs, breaking into our conversation.
“Oh no, he’s still Lord Logan, ruler of all the lands.” I flop back down.
“Lord Logan?” Logan laughs. “Or is it...?” He smirks and rubs his hand over his scruff. “What is it you called me to Carla?”
“Oh, whatever,” I sigh.
“Devil dimples?” He crinkles his nose.
“So? What of it?”
“Anyone stupid enough to get that close will be sucked into Hell?”
When Mom and Tessa giggle, I close my eyes. “Wake me up when they discharge me.”
“I want you to know that Brody and I appreciate you bringing London to the hospital, and that you made sure she was safe when she was”—Mom pauses, and I open one eye to look at her. She gives me the mom look, and I give her the don’t one—“out.”
“Right time, right place,” Logan replies in what I assume is his acceptance of her praise voice.
“I’m not ungrateful, Logan,” I say, eyes closed again.
“It’s Lord Logan to you.”
I open my eyes and see his cocky smirk.
“Yes, Lord Logan, SU golden boy. I’m but a peasant in your presence.”
“God, I miss your spunk.” Tessa laughs.
“It’s always present, Tessa. It’s London Fields, center stage.”
I roll my eyes at Logan, and he smiles fully. Damn if those dimples don’t seem deeper than ever.
* * *
“It’s not a fight, London,” Brody whispers so Lexington doesn’t wake up. “Just tell them they’re keeping you overnight.”
“I’m fine,” I huff.
“We’re doing the very best we can to honor your wishes of doing college your way. We’ve done quite well. I’m sure you’ll agree. And you know it’s not easy to do so. This family has been through an awfully lot.” He stops pacing and sits next to me. “Give a little to princess.”
I look up at Mom, whose arms are crossed against her chest, watching me.
“I can’t miss classes. I’m struggling with breath control and broadening my vocal range. This isn’t our tiny little hometown; I can’t get by on natural talent. I need to push harder, grow, improve, and—”
“Breathe, London, you need to just breathe sometimes and accept that your natural talent is good enough.” Brody puts his arm behind me.
“Mezzos don’t have as many opportunities as sopranos, Dad. It’s very competitive. I’ll age out at the ripe old age of thirty. I have a short window of time to make it.”
“You’ll make it.” He squeezes me in a hug. “You work twenty times harder at your craft than I ever did. And London, if it gets to be too much, you’ll just be center stage on another platform.”
“I’m going to make this happen. I’m not quitting.”
“Of course you’re not.” Mom sits on the other side of me. “But stay tonight, London.”
I nod. “I swear I miss you all, but I just want to do this, you know?”
“We’re proud of you for that.” Brody smiles down at me.
* * *
I wake up where I fell asleep, snuggled up to Lexington, except Mom is now snuggled up to me on the other side. I can’t help the stupid grin from splaying across my face.
I look up to see Brody standing in the doorway to the adjoining room. Beside him is...Logan?
“What the...?” I begin to sit up, waking Lexi and Mom in the process.
Lexi’s arms squeeze tighter around me as she whispers, “Don’t leave me alone with them. I can’t handle it.�
��
“I heard that.” Mom sits up, still in her clothes from last night.
“Oh, boy,” Lexi groans.
Brody laughs. “London needs to get to school. Logan’s headed that way,” he says, picking her up as she tries to wiggle away.
“No,” she fakes sadness. “I need you, London. They smother me!”
I give Mom a quick kiss on the cheek and slide out.
“Hold her still, Daddio. Restrain those arms.” I giggle as I kiss Lexi’s cheek and then his.
“I will snatch your weave right off your head,” Lexington yells after me.
“Love you all more.” I giggle, walking into the other room and looking for my shoes.
Logan points. “There.”
“I need to use the bathroom.” I grab my shoes up and step into the bathroom.
I look in the mirror and about die. My weave, as Lexi calls it, looks like a ten-year-old’s Barbie doll’s hair. I grab Mom’s brush and sit down to pee.
After using the toilet, I wash my hands and pull my hair back in a ponytail.
“You may not take her from me,” I hear Lexi from outside, and then she starts banging on the door. “London, take me with you. Please, I’ll do anything if you spring me from this parental imprisonment.”
I brush my teeth with my finger and laugh as she keeps banging.
“It’s been torture. Pure torture. Too much attention. Too many hugs and kisses. I can’t take it!” she cries then giggles. “Hands off, Dad. I’m gonna pee my pants!”
“You got her?” I call out.
“Yep, run while you can.” Dad laughs. “This one is a wiggle worm.”
I open the door a crack and peek out. “You sure?”
“Don’t leave me!” Lexi starts flailing her arms and legs as she reaches for me. “Logan, don’t take her.”
He laughs. “Sorry, Lexi, but we need to get to class.”
“Someday, Lord Logan, you’ll need my help and I shall look down on you and say, ‘poo-poo’.”
“Please accept my apology, Lady Lexington, but in this situation, it cannot be help.”
“Unacceptable.” She covers her face. “Someday you’ll need me to do you a solid, and I shall remember this moment.”
With her eyes still covered, I kiss her cheek then jump back so she can’t grab me. “Love you, Lady Lexington.”
“Love you more.” She sticks out her lower lip in full pout.
“Here,” Mom says, bringing me a bag. “Brody ordered breakfast. Take yours to go. There’s enough for you, too, Logan.” She gives him a quick hug. “Thank you again.”
“Right time, right place,” he says, hugging her back.
She gives me a hug and a kiss. “Love you more.”
When Logan shuts the door behind me, I see he’s in his normal running attire.
“Go without me?”
“Figured you needed your beauty sleep.” He smirks, looking me over.
“Ha, ha.” I stick my tongue out as I push the elevator button.
“I see the penis affect has worn off,” he picks on me.
“You wanna talk about the penis incident? The whole thing? Like in the bathroom when you thought—”
He shoves me in the elevator. “It’s too early to deal with you.” When the door closes, he looks at me.
“So, that’s a no?”
“It’s always a no.” He rolls his eyes as he leans against the elevator wall.
His white tank top is sweat drenched and sticking to his body. His arms bulge as he crosses them over his chest and leans his head against the wall, looking up.
I make it a point to crinkle the paper on the breakfast sandwich to get his attention. When he looks at me, I take a bite. “Mmm...” I glance down at his black ball shorts then look away quickly.
“Stop eyeing the goods.”
“Oh, please,” I huff.
“Whatever. You were probably just wanting to see what all the fuss is about. Can’t blame you.”
“Really? You think that’s what I was thinking?” I ask, taking another bite.
He smirks. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Then what were you looking at?”
“There’s a lot of movement down there.” I point my finger at his lower half.
And he smirks again.
“Oh, don’t let it get to your head, big guy. I was just going to suggest something.”
His eyes narrow a bit, and he bites the corner of his lower lip and gives a sharp lift of his chin.
I look at the lighted numbers and wait until the elevator stops before telling him, “I was gonna suggest underwear. It looks like a bounce house down there.”
He grins and reaches for me. I jump out of the elevator, and he closes in on me. The lobby is full. I look over at him as he notices. Then he looks at me as if he’s unaffected by just getting off an elevator and walking out into a sea of orange. Everyone in the lobby is wearing SU football colors. He nods to the door and I walk to it, but when I reach to open the door, he beats me to it.
Outside, I see his truck and start toward it.
“Hey, you gonna give me some?”
“The answer is always a no,” I reply, to which he laughs.
13
Pre-Game Plan
Logan
“Really hate that they make us stay here on Friday nights before the game,” Mitch, who has been bitching all fucking day, says as he gets out of my truck at the hotel.
I grab my bag and get out, asking, “What else you gonna do the night before a big game?” I know damn well what it is he wants to do.
“You fucking kidding me?” he huffs, and I can’t help laughing.
“Not like she’s gonna let you in,” I remind him of why he’s actually pissed off.
“Never eaten pussy on two separate occasion with the same fucking chick and not gotten mine, too. That’s some bullshit, man.”
I grip his shoulder and try not to laugh again. “I’m gonna tell you this again.”
“Don’t wanna hear it,” he grumbles.
I say it anyway. “Treats before eats.”
“Shouldn’t be that way.”
“It is that way. I don’t understand what the hell you’re missing. Pussy gets a lickin’ ’cause it’s already taken the dick-in.”
“Links, I love you, brother, but right now, I need you to shut the fuck up,” Mitch nearly begs.
“Ask me how many pussies I’ve licked.”
He opens the door. “You’re a selfish bastard.”
“But I get fucked.” I pat his back when I walk by.
“Oh, yeah.” He laughs from behind me.
I stop dead in my tracks and look back at him.
“How long’s it been?”
“Don’t push me, man,” I warn.
“I know the answer,” he taunts.
“Been busy.”
“Been slightly obsessed.” He laughs again, and I turn around.
“No intention of fucking her, Mitch. You got it? None.”
“Then what the fuck? Fawn comes to our place, begging to suck on the Links’ lollypop and denied.”
“Something about her rubbed me the wrong way. I told you about the shit in the bathroom last night,” I remind him.
He shrugs. “She’s a little crazy, but damn near hits all your requirements.”
“Crazy is lazy. I don’t want that in bed. But a little twisted in the head makes them good in bed.”
“Love your advice, man, but here’s some from me to you. You need to bust a nut before you end up falling in love with the one you won’t touch.”
“Not gonna fall in love,” I assure him.
“Then tomorrow night, after the game, we’re throwing a party.” He winks.
I almost tell him no. I mean, who the hell will watch after London? But it’s a long weekend. Tessa and Dad mentioned London riding back with them to go home for a couple nights. I told them I would bring her back Monday night.
> “Yeah, sounds good.”
Plans are set. The house is going to be ready for a fucking party, and Mitch is right, I do need to get laid.
I’m never going to be the guy who breaks a heart, not one like hers. I’m invested in her. She’s not family, but I sure as fuck see her in my life twenty years down the road. And I’m not the guy I picture her looking at with those big eyes, smiling because I did something like bring her flowers, rubbed her feet, or told her she’s fucking beautiful when she rolls over in the morning and her hair is fucked up like it was today. I don’t want to kiss London Fields in the morning and act like her mouth tastes like fucking Skittles when it tastes like last night’s mouth shot of my swimmers.
She would see past my shit. We have known each other so damn long we know nearly everything there is to know about one another. I’m steps away from knowing what she looks like in my bathrobe and slippers, and that, that’s not happening.
No one could be enough for her. Hell, I’m not even a second date kind of guy since the crazy bitch in high school who lied and told me she was knocked up.
No fucking way she was. I wrapped that shit tight. Hell, my dad used to leave boxes of condoms under my pillow like he was the tooth fairy or some shit. No clue how he knew I was fucking, but the damn things showed up the day after my dick fired off its first round in something besides a tissue, shower, or blanket.
Bitch pulled that right when my parents’ marriage went south, and that was enough of a fucking sign for me.
Peace. The fuck. Out.
Love is a joke played on fools, and I’m nobody’s fool.
14
Game Day
London
To say our quad was buzzing with excitement would be as understated as “Goodbye” from Catch Me If You Can.
I would swear Jamie was high if I didn’t know better. And I do. All she has talked about since eight o’clock this morning was number 12.
Walking across the street, heading for the Dome, she checked her purse...in the middle of the road, looking for her ticket, and almost got hit by a city bus. If not for Christy, she would have.
It was an hour before the game, and I tried to tell her we had plenty of time.
