The Underdogs: The Complete Series

by Stewart , Kate

  She’s been nothing but apologetic since our confrontation with Mom, and I’ve been nothing but a prick to her. It seems like any step forward I take with her always leads to a thousand back.

  I don’t have much fight left in me. I’m exhausted from the expectations weighing me down. And for once, I just want to stay down.

  In the past, after days like this, my first instinct would be to find a good party, a never-ending bottle, and a soft place to land, but nothing about that appeals to me.

  My phone buzzes again, and I know it’s Mom.

  Mom: Don’t give up, baby. You’re the best player on that team, and you played your heart out today.

  I text her back because I don’t want her to worry or pop up to check on me. I just want to be alone.

  Troy: I’m okay, Mom. I’ll brush it off. Love you.

  Grabbing my gear, I head down the hallway and out to the parking lot. I’m halfway to my truck when I hear mixed voices spewing venom.

  “Happy, you little bitch?”

  “P-please, please stop!”

  Dropping my duffle, I head toward the crowd and tense when I hear another cry. I make my way toward the commotion, moving bodies to get through it, and then all I see is red.

  Clarissa

  I knock on Troy’s door for the second time, knowing he’s home. Theo’s car is gone, but Troy’s King Cab is in its usual spot. When the door finally opens, it’s Lance who answers.

  “Hey, how are you, Lance?”

  “I’m good, Clarissa. Thanks for the cookies. They were delicious.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m so sorry about the game.”

  “Yeah,” he says, his disappointment clear, “that was something.” Lance is dangerously beautiful. When I first introduced myself to him, I was intimidated by his menacing stature. But he’s as gentle as they come, the strong silent type. At least that’s my impression of him now. Harper is far more outgoing. Briefly, I wonder how that dynamic plays out in their relationship.

  “You played really well.”

  “Not well enough,” I can see the sadness in his smile. “If you’re looking for Troy, he’s upstairs.”

  “Thanks,” I make my way to Troy’s bedroom and knock once.

  “Sup?” I hear him call from behind the door, and I poke my head in to see him tense when he sees me. Shirtless, he’s sprawled on his bed in sweatpants, books open and scattered all over his mattress. He catches his football mid toss. “What’s wrong, where’s Dante?”

  “He’s fine. Parker’s with him.”

  He lifts to sit, and that’s when I notice his bruised cheekbone and busted lip. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Difference of opinion with a bunch of assholes.”

  “Can I look at it?” I sit down next to him on the bed and palm his cheek to examine his lip. He pulls out of my grip.

  “I’m okay.”

  “What happened?”

  “I just told you. I got into a fight. It’s fine.”

  “Not fine. You just lost a game and got into a brawl. I would say things are pretty shitty at the moment.”

  “I’ll deal. Not the end of the world.”

  “And what is the end of the world?”

  He draws his brows. “What?”

  “What’s the end of the world for Troy Jenner?”

  He jerks his head back. “Are you being serious right now?”

  “Yes. I would like to know.”

  “Any harm coming to my son. Losing another fucking game, not getting drafted, bouncing another goddamned check. Pick a nightmare, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t be condescending.”

  “Right. Sorry. Thanks for stopping by, but I’m not in the mood for another lecture. As you can see, I’m busy. You can go.”

  “You’re already kicking me out? You haven’t even fucked me yet.” I palm his bed and lean in with a seductive whisper. “Isn’t this where the magic happens?”

  His jaw goes slack, and I congratulate myself.

  “Ah, a reaction. Finally. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  “Lady, you drive me crazy. How can I help you?” He stands and tosses his ball on the floor.

  I pluck the ball from the carpet and toss it up. “First off, don’t call me lady, I’ve seen your dick, and it makes me feel old. Two, if you’re bouncing checks, Troy, I can go without one for a while until you get on your feet.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says, cupping his neck. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Last time I checked, we were in this together. I’m okay. I want you to be okay too.”

  He exhales heavily. “Clarissa, what’s this all about?”

  “Because I’m worried about you. And I don’t like this static going on between us. We started a friendship, and you took it away from me. And I understand why you’re mad, I do, but we were trying to make it work for our son, and it was working. Despite the fact that you’re spinning all these plates and making it look easy, I want you to know I’m aware of how hard you’re working. And to let you know I care.”

  His eyes rake over me skeptically. “You care, huh?”

  I take a seat on the corner of his bed facing him. “Of course, I do. You have my son’s adoration and my respect for all you’re doing, and we can both tell that you’re having a hard time. Dante used his curse money yesterday to buy you this.” I pull the fishing lure from my jacket pocket and hold it out to him. “He said you like the bright blue ones that look like an octopus. He took great care in picking it out.”

  He glances down fondly at the lure in his palm. “He loved fishing. And we didn’t even get a bite.”

  “He misses you.”

  He sighs and sits next to me on his mattress, cradling the lure in his hands. “I’ll do better.”

  “Troy, this isn’t about you doing better. This is about us wanting to be there for you. Don’t you get that?”

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Do? Nothing. Just let us be there for you. Come over. I’ll make you dinner. You can spend time with your son, forget about all these burdens for a few hours and just chill. I don’t want any more hard feelings between us. I want to try and make this work.”

  “Everything no longer going just fine?” He smirks.

  “Cut the shit. You lavish all this attention, and then you just…”

  The air grows thick as he inches in.

  “Just what?”

  “Take it away.” I swallow at the intensity of his gaze. I can feel the heat coming off his skin.

  “Who’s missing my attention, Clarissa?”

  “What?”

  He kneels down in front of me, tipping my chin and forcing my eyes to his. “Who’s missing my attention?”

  I can hear my breaths through my parted lips.

  “We both miss having you around. I realize your schedule is hectic…” I reach out and run my finger over his lip, “but we’ve got a seven-foot tree in our house we haven’t decorated yet because he wanted to wait for you.”

  Troy closes his eyes. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  “Troy, stop. You haven’t done anything wrong. This is an invitation.” I stand and offer my hand. “Come over, help him decorate his tree. I’ll make you dinner. We can do this together. Okay? It’s your first Christmas with him, and I don’t want you to miss it. I don’t want you to miss,” I try to swallow my guilt, but my voice shakes anyway, “I don’t want you to miss another one because of me.”

  He takes my hand, towering over me, and it’s all I can do to keep from leaning in and inhaling a whiff of his cologne-scented skin. The man is temptation personified. I do my best to look unaffected, but all I want to do is release the string on his sweats. Somewhere between hating him and trying to forgive him, he’s unleashed the dormant hussy that dwells inside of me.

  “So, you miss me?” He teases, and I roll my eyes. “Want to demonstrate how much?”

  “Don’t push your luck, Jenner.”

  “Okay.”
r />   “Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.” It’s then I see some of the light I’ve been missing return in his eyes. “I’ve got a few notes to go over, and then I’ll come by.” I let my eyes drift down a little more before glancing at his open books.

  “What’s your major?”

  “Electrical engineering.”

  I couldn’t be more shocked if he’d shot me.

  He chuckles. “That look you’re giving me isn’t insulting at all.”

  “Sorry,” I sputter. “It’s just…you failed sixth grade.”

  He shakes his head. “Keep underestimating me, Ms. A. I like surprising you.”

  “No issue there. It seems to be working in my favor.”

  “Nothing better than a challenge.” He runs his tongue along his plump bottom lip, his eyes doing a full sweep as my pulse kicks up between my thighs.

  “Easy, tiger. It’s a dinner invite. And please put a shirt on, or there’s a good chance Parker will lick you.”

  The corner of his mouth lifts. “Wouldn’t want her to beat you to it.”

  “Dream on, stud. And stop looking at me like that.”

  “Thought you missed my attention?”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Troy

  It’s the smallest things. The way she worries her lip when she concentrates. The way she tucks the hair behind her ears before pushing up the sleeves on her sweater. A sweater that’s way too big. No matter how hard I try, when I’m around her, I can’t stop feasting. The four of us gather in the living room with mountains of decorations surrounding us. Parker hooks the ornaments handing them to Dante, who strategically places them on the tree. Clarissa bought a little electric fireplace to sit in the corner of the living room which warms the space. Soulful Christmas music is playing, the atmosphere relaxed. From behind my door to the inside of hers, it feels like a different world. And for the first time in weeks, I breathe a little easier.

  It’s a different home in comparison to the one I live in. Our tree is a sad ass Charlie Brown number Theo bought and decorated with exactly four Grand ornaments. It’s a far cry from the lush Fraser Fir my boy is decorating. I love the light in his eyes, which I have decided are his mothers’. The minute I entered the house, and Dante greeted me with open arms, my mood shifted.

  This was precisely what I needed to suck up the loss.

  And the fact that Clarissa admitted she missed me, well that’s a different league of feelings. Feelings I’m not ready to act on just yet. With her, it’s a curved line to walk. I could tell the other night I’d let her down. I haven’t backed up a word I’ve said when it comes to her because of our lingering issues, but she doesn’t seem to hold it against me, which is surprising.

  “Hey, you, lazybones. Quit acting like you played four quarters today and open a box,” she jokes, pushing a large tub my way. “We’ve got work to do.”

  “If I’m going to work, I’m going to need more of this.” I lift my empty mug of eggnog, and Parker does the same.

  “Me too. What’s in this? It’s like magic on my tongue.”

  “Agreed,” I say, warming from the slight buzz of rum.

  “It’s an old recipe, y’all like it?” Clarissa beams with pride.

  “Which girlfriend was this?” Parker asks.

  “Girlfriend?” I ask, ping-ponging between the two of them.

  Parker gives me a devilish smirk. “You didn’t know about Clarissa’s college phase?”

  “Shut up,” Clarissa rolls her eyes. “That’s one hundred percent not true.”

  “Awww, look at him,” Parker says, studying my expression. “I think you just shot down his little elf’s hopes.”

  “You have a little elf?” Dante asks.

  “Yeah, bud. But he’s hiding. He’s afraid of Parker because she likes to play target practice with him.”

  “You want to shoot Troy’s little elf? That’s not nice, Auntie Parker.” Dante scolds.

  Parker glares at me, and I reply with a slow wink.

  “Which girlfriend means,” Clarissa says, giving us both warning looks, “that my dad was a fan of variety.”

  “You and your little elf know all about that, don’t you, Troy?” Parker adds smartly before she hiccups.

  I roll my eyes. “Parker, go choke on a reindeer—”

  Dante speaks up, schooling us both. “Y’all are interrupting Mommy, and that’s rude.”

  “Get ‘em, baby,” Clarissa beams with pride.

  Parker stands and takes my cup. “Sorry, Troy. Allow me to get you some more.”

  “Sure, thanks.” I turn to Clarissa. “So, the girlfriends?”

  “Forget it,” Clarissa says, shaking her head.

  I move toward her and grab the lights she’s trying to separate and nudge her shoulder. “Tell me.”

  She glances up at the tree as I study her exposed neck. “My dad loved a woman who knew her way around the kitchen, and when they stuck around, meaning for more than a few weeks, they’d show me how to cook. So that eggnog recipe came from Beth. She was in interior design.”

  “So, what are we having tonight?” I ask.

  “Carol’s Goulash. She was an ex-con turned church secretary from Jersey, who gave up her criminal ways for Jesus and was determined to save my father and me from eternal damnation.”

  “What’s eternal damnation?” Dante asks.

  “Parker’s cooking,” Clarissa jokes.

  “Oh, shut it,” Parker says through a hiccup.

  “Sorry, it’s the truth. When we lived together, you burnt broth.”

  “That was a ploy to get you to cook for me, sucker!”

  “Goulash, huh? Never had it.”

  “It’s sooo good.” Dante gives me big eyes. “You will love it.”

  “Can’t wait.” I lift the lid off a new box, my chest tightening when I see it’s a mix of Dante’s baby ornaments. I pull them out, studying them carefully, sensing Clarissa’s eyes on me.

  “That was last year.” She lifts an ornament, unwrapping it from the tissue. “And this one was his first.”

  We both chuckle as I hold it up.

  “Jesus, that breast milk did him good.”

  “And now he’s so small,” she whispers.

  “I’m not small!” Dante yells, offended. “I’m bigger.”

  “Don’t worry, I was small too, bud.”

  “How did you get big?”

  I chuckle. “Big boy breast milk.”

  “Mommy, can I have some of that?”

  “In twenty years,” Parker answers.

  “I’m going to tear your little elf off,” Clarissa grumbles as I open another box, and she moves to take it from me. “Not that one.”

  “No way,” I slap her hand. When I open it, I see the contents of what I know is Clarissa’s childhood.

  Parker passes me my refreshed cup of eggnog while I sort through pictures. In the one I hold, Clarissa’s smiling, toothless, and wearing an NSYNC T-shirt.

  “Awesome,” I say, chuckling as she rips it from my hand, trying to steal the box back. I swat her hand again.

  “Ouch,” she says, withdrawing.

  “Then leave me alone.”

  “You two play nice,” Dante scolds, hanging a wreath ornament. “Santa is watching.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say, studying the pictures. I flip through them, stilling on one of Clarissa and a beautiful woman, who is, without a doubt, her mother. They’re doing dishes.

  “That’s the only one I have of the two of us.”

  I flip it over and read the scribbling on the back.

  My baby & me, AG 5

  She lifts another picture from the box.

  “This was her headshot. She’s like Julia Roberts beautiful, right?”

  “Yeah,” I agree readily. “So are you. You look just like her.”

  “Aww, well damn, now I feel guilty,” Parker says as I lift my mug. “Uh, Troy, I may or may not have slipped an Ambien into your eggnog. The buzz choice is up to you from her
e on, my friend.”

  “Parker!”

  “Sorry. You said he never gets any sleep. I was just trying to be helpful.”

  “You worry about my sleep too?” I ask Clarissa, who casts her eyes down, grabbing the box from my hands.

  “I just don’t see how you do it.”

  I lean in with a “Hey,” and she finally looks up at me through her lashes. “Don’t worry about me, pretty woman.”

  “You’re pushing so hard.”

  “I’ve got this,” I say softly. “And thanks for having my back. You too, Parker, but I think I’ll toss this out.”

  “Good thinking.” Clarissa glares at Parker over her shoulder. “Not cool.”

  “Sorry, babe. I thought it would be funny to watch him faceplant in your goulash.” She sheepishly flashes all her teeth. “Are we not in revenge mode anymore? I must have missed the memo.”

  Dante speaks up next. “What’s a memo?”

  “Do you want to read his Christmas story tonight?” Clarissa asks as I shovel in my third bowl of goulash.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll get it,” Dante says, pushing away from the table. “Mommy, which day is it?”

  “Day eight.”

  “Okay!” He shouts before running toward his room.

  “Will you text me the next time you make this?” I ask around a mouthful of macaroni. Clarissa laughs as she retrieves my bowl, and I stop her, spooning the last of the goulash in my mouth. “That’s not an answer,” I say, poking her side as she stacks our bowls in her hands.

  “Okay, okay,” she says, jerking away from my fingers, “I p-p-promise.”

  “I forgot you are ticklish.” I begin to work her sides as Parker chimes in.

  “This is so…” she rests her chin in her hand with a sigh, her eyes hooded as she looks between the two of us. “It’s like watching a Hallmark movie, but I can read the bow chicka wow wow going on in your filthy minds, which makes it so much better.”

  Clarissa knocks Parker’s arm from beneath her. “Would you stop making things weird?” She hauls the dishes to the sink, and I stand, gathering the glasses.

  “I’ll help.”

  Clarissa shakes her head. “You sit.”