The Underdogs: The Complete Series

by Stewart , Kate

  He chuckles. “On it.” As we dance, I sink into his hold, the words hitting hard, resonating deep. The wind kicks up, but I stay comfortable in the warmth emanating from him.

  When the next song starts to play, Troy grips my ass, pulling me close, thighs nestled between mine, our dancing bordering indecent as he moves us to the beat of the bass. I shake my head, still feeling the eyes on our backs but give into him, dancing along.

  It’s when the man begins to sing that all my bells go off and my heart does a somersault. “Oh, my God!”

  Troy continues to rock with me in his arms as I bang on his biceps.

  “Troy! Oh, my God! It’s the SONG! TROY! It’s the song!”

  Tears flood my eyes, and as I begin to move back and forth with him, emotions running rampant, I’m a hysterical mix of laughter and tears as we sway to the music.

  “This is it!” I shout happily through my tears as he cups the back of my head and peers down at me with a blinding smile.

  “I hoped it was…listen,” he lifts a finger, “right…here…Ahhhhh, baby!” He sings to me as I burst into laughter due to his animation.

  “You found it,” I say, shaking my head. And then we’re dancing, in the freezing cold, in a car wash off the side of a Texas highway. I couldn’t care less who’s watching as I cling to him, swaying my hips, a mess of emotion. Troy pulls me closer, kissing the cold tears from my face. When the song ends, I shake my head repeatedly, more tears spilling over. I’m sure I’m a spectacle, but I can’t stop the shake in my voice.

  “How, how did you figure it out?” I ask, my heart beating a mile a minute.

  “The picture.”

  “The picture?”

  “The one of you and your mom you showed me. On the back, it said: My baby & me, AG 5.”

  “I always thought it meant age five.”

  “No,” he says, pushing the hair off my shoulders, “It’s called “Tired of Being Alone,” by Al Green.”

  “Wow. I’m just…Troy, this is everything.”

  “I can’t take all the credit. Theo is a maestro, and he helped me figure it out. It was a long shot, but I listened to his greatest hits and could only find one song that would make me crack a smile in the middle. You said there was that one part that always made you laugh.”

  “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

  He stops his movements, cupping my face. “I’ve memorized you, Clarissa, the shape of your lips, the lilt of your voice, your every smile, every mood, your everything. I used to think it was because I’ve grown so used to watching because of Dante,” he wipes another tear from my cheek, “but it’s not just our son, baby, it’s you. He wasn’t the only one I was falling for.”

  I shake my head incredulous, my heart exploding with his sentiment. “This is…I can’t believe it. It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. You, you gave me a piece of my childhood back. Thank you,” I kiss his jaw, his nose, his neck over and over as he holds me close. “You have no idea what this means to me.” I kiss him again and again, my heart soaring. “I’m so thankful. You have no idea how much.”

  “I think I’m getting a good idea,” he manages through the rain of affection as I run my kisses along his jaw.

  I look up to him, and he searches my eyes, his alight with raw happiness at my reaction. I can feel the shake in his limbs as my heart speeds up. Troy’s lips seal over my mouth before he deepens our kiss. Clinging to each other, his tongue strokes mine, seeking, exploring, while I melt in his embrace. This kiss just as powerful as our last and the kiss before, but behind it, I feel more than I imagined possible. My body sinks into him, and he grips the back of my head, plunging his tongue over and over until we’re breathless.

  “Take me home and ravage me, superstar.”

  “No can do, baby, I’ve got a promise to keep.”

  “I don’t think I can take much more of this adult dating.”

  “All in good time. Happy Birthday, pretty woman.”

  “I love thirty.”

  “You should. It looks fucking amazing on you.”

  “No, no, that’s you.”

  I reach up and tug at the back of his neck, bringing him closer until I’m kissing him with all I feel, and he kisses me back just as fevered. Horns of passersby sound around us, and I couldn’t care less, because for the first time since we met, we’re no longer a secret, and I don’t care who sees that I’ve fallen for Troy Jenner.

  Clarissa

  Troy nestles himself between my parted legs, where I sit on the dryer sweeping his tongue across my lips. Opening for him, he deepens our kiss while tugging the neck of my T-shirt beneath my breasts. It’s a trick he does often, cradling them together before he feasts. My nipples draw tight in anticipation, the pulse between my thighs beats heavy from the hunger in his eyes. The stroke of his thumbs over the lace covering my pebbled flesh has me on the verge as he grinds his rock-hard length just where I need him. He silences my whimper with his tongue just as Dante calls to him from the living room.

  “Troy, can we play football?”

  Reluctantly he pulls his lips away, eyes full of lust while he caresses the swell of my cleavage with his palm. “Sure, bud, but only for a few minutes. We have to head to the airport soon.”

  Slowly, he lifts my aching flesh from the lace of my bra before sucking my nipple into his mouth.

  Yes, we’re horrible parents.

  It’s been ten days of utter bliss. Since Troy’s been home, we’ve been doing a hell of a lot of ‘laundry.’ Ever the hustler, he’s been working odd jobs with Kevin in construction to try and catch up on his bills. When he’s not working out for endless hours to keep up his time and stamina, we spend every spare adult second exploring each other’s bodies. He’s given me exactly what I asked for, what I hoped for, a real courting, and I’m loving every minute of it.

  “I can’t find it. Where is it?” Dante asks.

  “In my truck,” Troy calls, before placing a tongue-filled kiss on my shoulder. “Keys are on the table.”

  “K!”

  Warm hands cover me while his lips travel, and I entertain getting down on my knees for a second time.

  “Fuck, baby, I’m about to explode,” he rasps out against my skin as I clutch him to me.

  “Me too,” I murmur, ripping at his hair. “If you would stop being so stingy with the penis, maybe we wouldn’t be so sexually frustrated.”

  “That’s ‘Grand Commander,’” he says pointedly through the worship of his lips, “and I have a point to prove,” he murmurs, running his knuckles down my cheek.

  “Fine, fine, you’ve proved it, you’re now the poster boy of courting and commitment, happy?”

  “Hell yes, I am,” he says softly, his eyes lifting to mine, the sentiment blanketing me in warmth, resonating deep.

  I beam up at him, sliding my fingers through his thick mane. “Me too.”

  “How many sleeps?” he groans. After the Combine, he’s set to meet up and sign with an agent. They’ve been talking for the past three weeks, and he’s kept me in the loop. The closer the draft gets, the more he’s scrutinized by different camps. His performance in the next few days is key, and I can’t believe how relaxed he is with the pressure he’s under.

  “Six sleeps. You’ll make it.”

  “No, I won’t,” he groans, rubbing his erection against me.

  “You’ve got this. I’m so excited for you. You’re going to kill it. And we’ll be cheering you on from here.”

  “Troy! I got the football and your medicine!”

  “Okay, bud,” Troy nuzzles my neck and steals another kiss before pulling away, drawing his brows. “Wait. My what?”

  “What’s he talking about?”

  “Medicine? No clue,” he says, his eyes dropping to my love tassels to which he gives separate parting kisses. “See you in six days,” he murmurs to them as I giggle.

  “Come on.” Righting my shirt, I push at his chest, and he unlocks the door, sauntering down the ha
ll. Our fingers separate just before he reaches the living room and comes to a jarring halt.

  Stopped short, I peek around Troy to see what’s got him tensing and see Dante standing in the middle of the living room, holding up a needle. My heart seizes, the whoosh of blood pulsing in my ears, all life and breath knocked out of me by the sight.

  “Is this your shots?” Dante asks Troy, wrinkling his nose. “I hate shots.”

  Immobilized by fear, Dante and I jump with the boom of Troy’s voice. “Dante, NO! DROP IT!”

  Troy’s within reach in seconds, ripping the syringe away from his hand. Dante’s so stunned by Troy’s reaction that he begins to cry. I’m still standing in the hallway in shock while Troy inspects the needle before turning to Dante.

  “Where did you find this?!” Troy roars. Hysterical, Dante screams out his reply.

  “I didn’t open it! Troy, I promise!” Dante’s terrified voice lifts in defense as his eyes shoot to mine in appeal. “Mommy, I didn’t open it!”

  Fear like I’ve never known thrums through me as I race to where Dante stands and jerk him into my arms. I don’t recognize the sound of my own voice as I sit with Dante on my lap and begin to search him.

  “What is it?!” I shriek frantically, inspecting Dante. “Troy,” I look up to where he stands, “what is it?!”

  He looks over to me, his face ashen. “Steroids. It’s empty, and the cap is still on. He didn’t open it.”

  I run my palms over Dante’s arms before turning his hands over and over.

  “Dante, please tell Mommy, did you open it? Did you stick yourself on accident?”

  “No, no, I promise. I didn’t! Troy tooked it! I wasn’t playing with it!” His chest pumps with his cries, his voice, and lips quivering.

  “You won’t be in trouble, I promise. Please, baby, tell me the truth!”

  From above me, Troy speaks, but he might as well be on another planet. “Clarissa, he didn’t open it.”

  I examine Dante from head to foot. “Accidents happen. I won’t be mad at all,” I’m trying to stay calm, but I’m getting hysterical myself. “I don’t know what to do!” I cry as I grip Dante to me, and he sobs in my neck. “I have to take him to the hospital! Troy, we have to take him in!” Dante clings to me, my cries further fueling his. Troy stops me when I stand, pulling us both into his arms.

  “He didn’t open it. I watched him,” Troy says hoarsely. “He’s okay. It didn’t touch him, Clarissa. I snatched it as soon as he pulled it from the bag.”

  I’m shaking so hard I feel like I’m going to implode.

  “He’s okay,” Troy assures before I jerk us out of his hold as rage rolls through me.

  I lift my murderous gaze to his. “Why was that in your truck, Troy?”

  He swallows, shaking his head.

  “Why was that in your truck?!”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know where it came from. It’s not mine.”

  “Then, who does it belong to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I swear to God, I don’t know. It could’ve bee—”

  “This could have…” I shake my head, unable to say the words.

  “He’s okay. Look at him. He’s okay.”

  I tear my eyes away from Troy. “You need to leave.”

  “Clarissa, it’s not mine.”

  I try to control the heat of my voice as Dante shakes in my arms. “Troy, you need to go home.”

  “He’s okay. Look at him, Clarissa, he’s okay.” He moves toward us, and I jerk my head, livid.

  “Go.”

  “Don’t. Please don’t do this. It’s not mine.”

  I grip Dante to me, smoothing his hair as he sobs into my chest. “Just go.” Emotion fills his eyes, his features twisting as he studies his son, who’s wrapped around me, breath hitching, and body shaking from his cries.

  “Dante, I’m sorry I scared you,” Troy whispers hoarsely. “I’m so sorry, bud.”

  Unable to handle all that I’m feeling, I burst into tears, turning my back on Troy before I make my way into the bedroom and shut the door.

  Troy

  Troy: Please talk to me. It’s not mine. I would never be that reckless.

  Clarissa: Whatever it takes. Isn’t that what you told me?

  Troy: That’s not me, and you know it. I’m coming over.

  Clarissa: Don’t. I mean it, Troy. Don’t make a scene. I just got him calm. How am I supposed to explain this to him?

  Troy: I will, if you let me.

  Clarissa: I can’t handle this right now. I don’t know what to think.

  Troy: You know me. This isn’t me. I don’t want to leave things like this. Please talk to me.

  I dial her number and get voicemail.

  “Jesus, fuck!” I hurl my phone at the wall and rip at my hair.

  Her reaction was knee-jerk. I know it. I can’t for one second tell her she’s overreacting, because I get it. I felt every ounce of her fear. I felt the same terror when I saw him holding that needle. But this woman knows me, she knows my heart, she knows me. I have to believe that when her anger subsides, she won’t think the worst. But I’m out of time.

  “FUCK!”

  Lance knocks on my door. “Hey, man, you good?”

  “Do I fucking look good?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Dante found some juice and a needle in my truck, and Clarissa thinks it’s mine.”

  “You don’t juice.”

  “I know that, but she’s too pissed off to see the light of day. I need to leave, like now, for Combine. She won’t even talk to me. It’s all fucked.”

  Lance crosses his arms. “She’s just freaking out. She’ll calm down.”

  “You don’t get it. Her mom went out with a needle. This is a deal-breaker for her.”

  “All you can do is plead your case.”

  “That’s all I seem to fucking do with this woman.” I’m busting from the inside out. “The cap was on. It didn’t touch him. He’s fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. If I weren’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I saw him pull it out of the bag, and then it was in my hand.”

  “Then go. You’ll sort this shit when you get back.”

  “What the hell am I going to do?”

  “Go to camp, man, it’s all you can do.”

  “I can’t leave it like this!”

  “You’ve got no choice. This is what the league will be like. The game doesn’t give a shit about your personal life. This is your chance, man, don’t blow it.”

  “I don’t know,” I scrub my jaw. “You should have seen her. I think she believes it was mine. Fuck, she was supposed to drop me at the airport.”

  “I’ve got you.” He pulls up his phone and shoots off a text.

  “She’ll come around. You need to go.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “You’re going. Your boy is alright. I’ll go and check on them both in a bit. I swear to you. I’ve got this handled. Go.”

  “Fuck, Lance, if I lose her…” I grab my duffle and head downstairs as an Uber pulls up. The driver, who looks a hell of a lot like a bald Carrot Top, introduces himself as Dave and takes my luggage as I scan Clarissa’s house. A house that encases the whole of my fucking heart.

  “I’ve got this,” Lance assures me from where he stands on the porch. “This is just as much for them now as it is for you. You’ll work it out when you get back.”

  “Right,” I linger at the open door of a Taurus. “Please, baby,” I whisper as I stare at her front door, praying for a glimpse of her. All my hopes evaporate when the house stays lifeless.

  “You gotta go, man,” Lance calls out as I linger.

  “Text me?”

  “Go.”

  Nodding as my heart cracks, I climb into the back seat and shut the door before the car speeds away from the curb.

  Sharon’s Broccoli Rice Casserole

>   PE Teacher, Louisiana

  Makes 10-12 servings

  1 hour

  1 Stick Butter – Melted

  ½ Cup Chopped Onion

  1 Can Cream of Mushroom Soup

  1 10 oz. Package Frozen Chopped Broccoli

  3 Cups Cooked Rice (2 cups uncooked plus 2 cups water)

  1 16 oz. Jar Cheese Whiz

  1 8 oz. Package Shredded Cheese

  Cook broccoli according to package directions. Drain and set aside.

  Sauté onion in butter until soft but not brown. Add soup and heat.

  Mix broccoli, rice, soup mixture and Cheese Whiz together.

  Pour into a buttered 9x13 casserole pan.

  Top with shredded cheese.

  Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

  Clarissa

  “Mommy, he’s wearing my Legit Life shirt!” Dante exclaims, watching the highlights of the first day of the Combine.

  “That’s so awesome,” Parker says, nudging me. “Isn’t it, Mommy?”

  “Yeah, it’s great, baby.”

  Dante prances around the living room. “I’m going to be famous like Troy! Oh! I’ll make a video of Troy wearing my merch! I bet I get some orders!”

  “Great idea, Duckie,” Parker says as Dante races off to his bedroom.

  Parker turns to me as soon as he’s out of earshot. “Hey, enough is enough. It was a freak incident. You need to snap out of it. He’s okay.”

  “I’m fine,” I lie.

  “Bullshit. You don’t believe him?”

  “Would you?”

  She sips her wine. “I mean, yeah, I think you should give him the benefit of the doubt. He deserves that much. He’s taken great strides to prove himself.”

  “You’re right.”

  “But you’re still not convinced.”

  “I can’t get the image out of my head.” I rub my forehead with my palm, my eyes stinging with fresh tears. “I’ve always wondered how he does it all. You know? School, work, practice, running on little to no sleep. But it’s just not…I don’t for one second want to believe it.”