Secret Catch

by Cassie Mae

  Her lips turn up against mine. “We are.”

  “Then I have to slow down now.”

  She loosens her grip on my belt loops, weaving her hands up my bare torso between us. She pecks me lightly, then coaxes me to my side. We curl under the covers, and when we’re settled, I catch her pulling the collar of my t-shirt she’s wearing and taking a deep inhale. I give her body a squeeze.

  “Goodnight, evil bird,” I whisper into her red hair.

  “Goodnight, condom.”

  She kisses my chest once more as I kiss her forehead. It takes us way too long to fall asleep, but as soon as I feel her breathing even out, my conscious mind shuts off.

  I slowly wake. Scorching heat presses against my back from head to toe, perfectly fitting every curve of my body. The weight of his arm drapes along my side.

  His warm breath tickles my neck and then he’s kissing it. Little presses of his lips against my skin, and I can feel that it’s affecting him as much as it is me.

  I turn in his arms, coming chest to chest. In the pale pink light of the morning, his face glows, only shadowed by a barely-there beard.

  “I think you need to shave,” I tell him, running my finger along his jaw, feeling the stubble.

  “Is it bad?” He tries to pull away, but I grab his head with both hands.

  “It’s kind of sexy.” I run my hand from his cheek down to his chest to his hard stomach to his jeans.

  He takes a sharp inhale, and his eyes narrow. “Sam.”

  I capture his mouth with mine, and my finger finds the loop on his jeans, pulling him closer. His arms tighten around me, and he rolls me on my back. He props up above me, and freezes there, just staring at me, heat burning in his eyes. He looks like he wants to say something, but instead his body presses down, and I’m on fire. His lips are everywhere, my chin, neck, ears. I rake my nails down his back and feel him shudder.

  He rolls off me.

  We both breathe heavy, staring at the ceiling.

  “Sorry. If I don’t stop now I don’t know if I’ll be able to.”

  “Mmmhmm.” Is all that comes out of my mouth. I can’t trust anything else because right in this instant I want to tell him not to stop.

  After a minute he turns on his side and faces me. He props his head on his hand and runs his finger along the design on the shirt I stole from him, tickling my stomach.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  “The best night of sleep I think I ever had. You?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever slept so good.” He gives me a grin that makes me want to yank him back on top of me. “I should sleep here with you before every game day.”

  “Any time, babe.”

  He leans forward and places a light kiss on my forehead, nose, and then my lips. Strong arms tighten around me and once again I can feel his body touching me from head to toe. His legs are between mine and his hips are against mine, making me want more than I should.

  My hands roam over his bare back and sides, relishing in the feel of his hot skin. Heat from his stomach warms my bare midriff, and I want more.

  His tongue caresses my bottom lip and mine darts out to meet it. Something in my brain switches off and the only thing in the world is Tyler.

  His hand is on my stomach, rubbing my ribs and then down to the top of my shorts. My skin becomes alive everywhere he touches, like an electric current circulating. Kisses rain on my mouth and my jaw and my neck. The weight of his body presses into me, and my body hums like a livewire.

  Then he stops, and my body feels like it just experienced a power outage. His forehead heavy on mine, and we both breathe like we just ran laps. My mind is fuzzy and I can’t think straight.

  “We should probably get up,” he says.

  I sigh. Damn it, he’s right. “Josh’ll be up soon, and he’ll be begging to go out and play.”

  “Is it okay if I stick around? I’d love to hang out with you guys.”

  My heart speeds back up. I don’t want him to see Mom or her to see him. She usually sleeps late, but what if this is the one day she decides to make an appearance before noon?

  I take a deep breath and play with his fingers. He knows Dad died, but he doesn’t know how and he doesn’t know about Mom. I’m embarrassed to tell him Mom’s depressed and doesn’t know anything about her kids anymore because she gave into her grief.

  And it’s early… I don’t really want to use my sixty seconds of weakness yet.

  “Talk to me, my angry bird. Or I’ll tickle it out of you.”

  “I’ll knock you out again.”

  “I’ll make you kiss it better.”

  “I’m okay doing that.”

  “Then I’ll make you tell me what’s on your mind. So… why don’t we skip all that middle mess? Save my chin?”

  He gives me big puppy dog eyes, and I’m definitely thinking that adorable face can get anything he wants.

  “It’s nothing really… just… my mom.” I pause, closing my eyes and scolding myself for giving in. He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “My dad was in the army. One day there was an attack on his convoy, and he and most of his unit died. And Mom hasn’t… she hasn’t been handling it well. She has major depression. She sleeps most of the day, and when she is up, she’s out of it. I can’t talk to her about anything. It’s like she’s just not even here. Like she died when Dad did.”

  “So, you take care of Josh.”

  “Yeah.”

  He grabs my chin and tilts my face up to his, placing a light kiss on my lips. “You are amazing. Not everyone would take care of their little brother like you have. Look at him; he’s a happy, great little boy. Because of you.”

  He wraps me in his strong warmth, comforting me, holding me. For the first time in a long time I feel safe—like someone is taking care of me.

  He pushes me toward the door, smiles and says, “What do you say we go make Josh some breakfast?”

  I nod and strip out of his shirt. My tank top lifts with it, but he helps push it back into place.

  “I want it back,” I say as I slip his shirt over his head. “But cover up those abs before my mom sees them.”

  ***

  “So did you win the championship?” Josh asks, sitting at the bar in our kitchen. His bare feet swing back and forth, chin propped on his hands, and he intently watches Tyler at the stove.

  Tyler flips a pancake in the air and catches it back in the pan. “Of course. We won 21 to 7. The other team only had 120 total yards. I had over that much myself.”

  “That’s awesome.” Josh is still wearing Tyler’s hoodie. It’s basically a nightgown since the golden yellow hem hangs to his ankles.

  “Yeah, it was a good game.” A wistful smile crosses his face. I’m sure it has to do with the fact that he hasn’t been playing, and the Trojans haven’t been doing well with their best two players out.

  I hand Tyler a couple plates. He throws some pancakes on them, and then hands one of the plates to Josh.

  Josh looks down with a big grin. “How’d you do that?”

  The pancakes are all in the shapes of footballs.

  “My mom taught me.”

  Josh’s smile fades a little, but he quickly recovers and says, “Will you teach me how someday?”

  “Definitely. The next time we make them you’re my sous-chef.”

  “What’s a sous-chef?”

  “The head chef’s second in command. You’ll be my right hand. Like a co-captain.”

  Josh’s face lights up, and the smile reaches his eyes. It makes me happy that Tyler takes the time to spend with Josh. He doesn’t have to. He could get impatient and short with him, or even opt out of spending time with him since it’s so risky, but he never does. I know it means a lot to Josh too, especially without Dad here anymore.

  “Sam,” Tyler says.

  I look up. “Yeah?”

  “Do you like them?”

  I look down to my plate to see I haven’t touched it. My fork stabs a piece of pancake
and then it’s in my mouth.

  “Yummy. Could use some red food coloring though for some school spirit.”

  Tyler’s lips turn up, ready to fire with a comeback I’m sure, but Josh interrupts.

  “Are we ready to go play some football?” Josh stands up on his chair and flexes his muscles.

  “You might want to put some clothes on first, Captain.” I smile at him.

  His feet make no sound on the floor as he runs off to his bedroom to change. Tyler and I are quiet cleaning up the kitchen together. He dunks a plate in the soapy water wipes it off and hands it to me with a smile. I return it and grab the plate, dry it, and place it in the cabinet.

  It feels good to just spend time with him like this.

  “Who is this?” Mom says as she stumbles into the kitchen.

  I never thought it was possible to shit a brick, but I think I have to check the kitchen floor because I’m pretty sure that just happened.

  “Um, hey Mom,” Sam says, drying her hands off. I’m still stuck in the soapy water because I’m not sure what to do. What time is it? Can I act like I wasn’t here all night? Tyler, get a freaking grip!

  “This is Tyler. He’s a… um… friend?” Sam slams the towel against my chest, and I finally move, dripping water down my shirt.

  “Friend?” Her mom folds her arms and tilts her head at me. I know it’s ballsy, and I’ve never done the meet the parents thing, but it seems like there should be some sort of protocol here. And I don’t want to start off by lying to her.

  Moving around Sam, I stick my hand out. “Tyler Koontz,” I say, praying my voice doesn’t crack. “And I’m dating your daughter.”

  Instead of shaking my hand, she braces herself using the counter. Her eyes are a bit tired, like she’s been up all night or really hung-over. But she’s not swaying or holding her head so I’m thinking it’s the former.

  “Did you start the coffee?” she asks Sam, not looking at me. Actually, I’m not sure if she’s looking at anything.

  Sam does this cute as hell “o” with her mouth, then starts fumbling over the coffee maker. Josh pokes his head into the room and barks, “Koontz! This ain’t a restaurant. It’s field time.”

  “Josh…” Sam somewhat scolds, but I’m watching her mom still, wondering if there could be any more awkwardness in the room.

  Her sleepy eyes pull to mine and everything Sam said earlier hits me hard. I’ve never dealt with a depressed family member. I think the closest I’ve gotten is when Dad gets pissing drunk when his team doesn’t win the Super Bowl. That hardly counts. Ms. Nolan’s eyes look empty, as if she’s looking past everything and everyone in the room. I take a step closer to Sam just to get in reach of her hand and give it a squeeze.

  “Koontz?” her mom says, then pinches the bridge of her nose. “You’re the one teaching my son football, right?”

  I attempt a smile. “I’m pretty sure he’s teaching me.”

  “That’s right,” Josh says, stomping across the kitchen and tugging the bottom of my shirt—or technically Sam’s shirt, since she’s getting it back as soon as I have something to change into. “And we’re wasting daylight.”

  “It was nice meeting you,” I say, letting Josh think he’s got the upper hand in strength as he tugs me out the door. Sam gives me a half-hearted smile as she presses the start button on the coffee maker.

  I don’t get a second glance from her mom, and I tell myself to make sure Sam gets the hug of her life when she comes outside.

  “I’ll play quarterback today,” Josh says like it wasn’t abnormal in there. I punch him lightly in the shoulder, ready to toss him over mine and spin him around. This kid lost his dad, and his mom isn’t exactly mentally present, and I just want to show him how much I respect how tough he is. ‘Cause damn, I don’t know how I’d handle this shit at seventeen…let alone six.

  “Yes, sir,” I say instead of tossing him. I’m sure he appreciates it more anyway.

  We get to Sam’s car and I help him in the booster in the back.

  “Hey Coach?”

  “Captain.”

  “Right. Sam watches you a ton, huh?”

  “Yep.” He nods, twirling his football in his hands. “Mom sleeps a lot.”

  “That’s cool that you get to hang with your sister.”

  He tosses the football up and catches it. “Yeah. Sam takes me to school, reads me books at night, and makes me dinner. And Mom spends time with Dad.”

  “When she sleeps?” I clear my throat and check over my shoulder. Sam’s place suddenly looks a lot different.

  “Yeah. I see him too when I sleep.”

  He tosses the ball again and I swipe it midair. “Will you tell him hi for me next time you see him?”

  “Yep.” He snatches the ball back. “He says you need to work on your hand-offs. That’s why I’m quarterbacking today.”

  “Shoot,” I mutter under my breath as I ruffle his hair. Just when I get the back door shut, hands wrap around my middle and Sam rests her chin on my shoulder, kissing the back of my neck.

  “I’m sorry. That was really weird in there.” Her breath warms my skin, but gives me chills all at the same time.

  My gaze is still locked on Josh in the backseat, tossing that ball and talking to himself—probably running over plays he thinks I need to work on. Shaking my head, I turn around to wrap Sam in a hug I’m pretty sure she needs.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Because I get it. They’re all dealing with losing a father and a husband in their own way. It’s not an excuse by any means, but I do get it.

  If I only saw Sam in my dreams, I think I’d want to sleep all the time, too.

  ***

  Sneaking out is ten times easier than sneaking back in. I can hear everyone in my house before I even get to my driveway.

  Parker barrels out the front door, tripping on her oversized high-heeled shoes.

  “You were supposed to take me to the park this morning.” She pouts and socks me in the thigh. “Give me a good reason not to tell Mom your secret.”

  I rub the spot she hit. “Because you love me?” My head tilts a little, and she slaps a hand over her eyes.

  “No. You don’t get to use that face on me again.”

  “I’ll take you this afternoon.”

  Her fingers spread enough to give me a questioning glare. “Just me and you? No football?”

  I cross my heart, and she drops her hand.

  “Fine.”

  A grin spreads on my face, and I toss her over my shoulder. She’s squealing in my ear and kicking my stomach, but I don’t let her down till I get to the couch in the living room. She flops on the cushions, hair getting stuck on the glitter lip-gloss she smothered her mouth with.

  “Again!”

  I put a hand on my back and fall to the floor. “I can’t. You broke me.” I go limp on the carpet, closing my eyes just enough so I can still see her, but it looks like I’m asleep. Her bright pink skirt is the only thing I see before fifty pounds comes crashing onto my stomach.

  “Oomph!”

  “Get up, you wimp!”

  “Damn, everyone’s always calling me that.”

  “Ty, you don’t cuss in front of girls.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.” I reach out to tickle her tummy, but Mom comes in the room and the look of death she shoots my way stops my hands midair.

  “Parker, can you go upstairs for a few minutes?”

  “But Mom, Ty and I are playing.”

  Mom moves the death look to my sister, and Parker snaps her mouth shut and gets off my lap. She slowly makes her way out of the room, dragging her heels across the floor.

  I get to my feet, but quickly take a seat on the edge of the couch when Mom points to it.

  “Anything you want to tell me?”

  From watching my older brothers deal with the Mom wrath and not knowing what exactly she knows, I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut.

  Her eyebrow rises, and she takes a spot in the chair, crossing her legs
and folding her arms. “I’m this close to suspending you from the team myself.”

  “What? Mom—”

  “I’m tired of the rivalry stuff, Tyler.”

  Okay… I think I’m getting to where she is.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t sneak out all night and just get away with ‘I’m sorry.’” She rubs her eyes and sniffs. “I don’t care what sort of retaliation you were planning with the team, you don’t do that to me. Ever.”

  Whoops, I’m off. I thought she knew about the fire and syrup, but at least she doesn’t know about Sam.

  “I know.”

  “So should I tell your coach you won’t be playing Friday?”

  “No,” I rush out in a panic. It’s been a month without the game; I’m more than ready to get back to it. “I won’t sneak out again,” I say, but the second the words are out I’m not sure if they’re a lie or not. “I’ll do chores. Ground me. Take my cell. Please.”

  Her lips purse, and I’d pull the dog face I give Parker if I thought it’d work, but I know it won’t. I wait with baited breath, and she finally relaxes her position, nodding at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again, but all she does is point to the stairs. I scurry out of there before she changes her mind.

  Hunter’s in our room, doing sit ups at the foot of his bed. He laughs as I strip off my shirt and chuck it at the laundry basket.

  “Man, next time you sneak out don’t make so much noise.”

  “Piss off,” I growl, slumping on my mattress.

  He swivels to face me, wiping the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his shirt. “Did you at least get some?”

  “What?”

  “Oh come on. Mom thinks you were doing rivalry shit, but I know what went down at the Skyhawk field, and no way in hell would you risk Bean taking you out of the game on Friday. You went to see some chick.”

  “She’s not some chick,” I blurt out before I think. Dammit, I don’t want to talk about this with Hunter. He’ll use it for blackmail, I guarantee it.

  Not that Parker isn’t blackmailing me, but at least I can handle her forms of torture.

  “Who is she then?”

  I want to say no one, but I can’t. Sam isn’t “no one.”