by J. Nathan
I nearly floated across the lawn separating our houses and approached my front porch, dropping down so I could stay outside a little while longer. I was too blissed-out to step inside to have reality slap me in the face. I wanted to enjoy the elation filling my body. I wanted to bask in the knowledge that I’d finally been kissed by a boy. A boy I would willingly give my heart to if only he’d let me.
“Emery?” my mother whispered from inside the house.
I swung around.
She stood in the doorway looking at me through the screen door. “I need you to get inside right now.”
The urgency in her voice had me jumping to my feet. “What’s wrong?”
“You need to get everything you want to take with you in the car in the next ten minutes.”
My heart leaped to my throat. “What do you mean? Where are we going?” I hurried inside, following her as she frantically grabbed various items from around our small home and piled them on the kitchen table.
“We’ll figure that out later. Right now, I need you to get anything important to you and get it in the car.”
My heart began to bang. “I need to see Jordan.”
She grabbed me by the arm and looked me in the eyes. “There’s no time if we’re getting out of here.”
“But I need to see him. I need to explain.”
“Emery, please don’t do this to me right now. Get what you need and get in the car. If Wayne comes back, I may not have the nerve to do this again.”
I ran down the hall to my room, my pulse pounding in my ears. I would grab my clothes and pictures of Jordan and me—the only things I really cared about—and still have time to run over to see him. Yup, that’s what I’d do.
I threw open my closet door and grabbed my backpack and suitcase from the floor. I pulled all my clothes out of the closet with hangers still intact and stuffed them into the suitcase. I left Jordan’s shirt on and pulled on some shorts before sweeping all the framed pictures off my dresser and packed them into my backpack. I yanked open drawers and emptied the contents into both my backpack and suitcase. I scanned my room, pulling a stuffed panda off my bed. Jordan had won it for me at a carnival on my ninth birthday. It meant the world to me.
I stuffed it in my backpack and tossed it onto my back. I attempted to close my overstuffed suitcase by sitting on it, but it wouldn’t close. I picked it up and carried it half open to the car. I shoved it into the backseat and dropped my backpack on top of it. I spun away from the car toward Jordan’s house. I made it three steps before my mother called me.
“Emery. Hurry. I need your help.”
My eyes jumped between Jordan’s house and my own. With a discouraged huff, I jogged back inside. My mother had piles of things stacked on the kitchen table for me to carry out to the car. It took eight trips to get everything packed. Once I stuffed the final pile into the trunk, my mother jogged outside and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Let’s go,” she said.
I looked to Jordan’s house. His bedroom light was on. Was he waiting for me to come back?
“Get in,” she yell-whispered.
And because I loved my mother for finally freeing us from the abuse we’d endured for far too long, I slipped into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut.
As soon as we’d reversed out of the driveway and the house we’d lived in for the past six years became nothing but a blur, I pulled out my phone to text Jordan.
My mother reached over and grabbed it. “No. No one can know we left yet. We need time to get out of town before he finds out.”
“Jordan won’t tell anyone.”
“I said no.”
I felt the tears well up, but I couldn’t cry. I had to stay strong. But how could I in some other town without Jordan by my side?
Grady
I pulled my truck into the driveway after a grueling football game the following night. I glanced to Emery’s house wondering where the hell she’d disappeared to. Since my mom broke up our make-out session, I hadn’t seen or heard from her. It wasn’t like her to go silent. What was worse was she’d never missed one of my games before. She always sat front and center. Was she embarrassed about my mom finding us? Embarrassed about asking me to kiss her?
I switched off my ignition and grabbed my phone from the passenger seat. Still no calls or texts from her. This shit stopped now. I pressed Emery’s name and dialed her up. I lifted the phone to my ear. It didn’t ring. An operator’s voice informed me the phone was no longer in service. I checked the screen. I’d definitely called Emery. I tried texting her to come outside, but the text went undelivered.
My heartbeat quickened. What the hell was going on? I hopped out of my truck and hurried over to Emery’s house. I rarely visited there. I never had a reason to since she always came to mine. But as I climbed the front steps of her rickety porch and pulled open the screen door, fear spread over me. I hadn’t thought anything was seriously wrong until that moment. Had he finally laid a hand on her? Or worse?
I pounded on the door, pausing to listen for her footsteps to approach.
I’d kill him. I’d seriously kill him.
I pounded again.
Still there was no movement inside.
I jogged down the steps and rounded the house, moving to the side door and peering inside the door’s window pane.
Emery’s stepdad sat slumped over at the small kitchen table surrounded by empty beer bottles.
Was he dead?
I pounded on the door, praying the guy moved. He may have been a son of a bitch, but he was the only one who’d know where Emery was. I pounded some more.
He stirred, slowly lifting his head and squinting toward the door. “What?” he growled.
“Is Emery home?” I called.
“She’s gone,” he slurred.
“Gone?”
“Left a note saying they ain’t coming back.”
My heart rattled off the wall of my chest. After years of abuse, Emery’s mother finally did it. She’d left the monster. I wanted to be happy for them. But in leaving him, she took my best friend. How could I be happy about that?
I staggered off the steps and dragged myself home, dropping down onto our porch as I pulled out my phone. I needed to find her. I needed to know she was okay. I pulled up her favorite site. The one she posted pictures of the two of us with crazy faces. Only, her name didn’t pop up. I tried another site. But still nothing.
My confusion quickly converted to anger.
How could she disappear without a heads up? How could she leave without saying goodbye? Is that why she felt bold enough to ask for a kiss? She knew she was leaving.
I scrubbed my face with my palms, pushing back the angry tears glazing them. Is this what I got for years of protecting her? Years of being razzed by the guys?
Emery Pruitt had walked out of my life forever. And she didn’t even see fit to tell me.
CHAPTER FOUR
Grady - 18
“Hey, Mercy!” I slurred across the table where I played flip cup with a bunch of hot chicks from my high school. “Drink up, girl. You and me have some plans later.”
The sexy redhead did as told and downed her beer as the other girls on her side of the table laughed and downed their own cups.
We played another round. My team lost and once I’d filled everyone’s cups with the pitcher of beer, I chugged the rest of the pitcher, slamming it down and howling.
Everyone in the room cheered.
Yup. I was that guy.
I moved to the living room and dropped onto the leather sofa. I needed a breather if I was gonna make it past eleven. We’d won our championship game and the celebration had been going on since three in the afternoon. I was on the verge of passing out when Mercy dropped onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Hi, Jordan.”
“Grady,” I snapped.
“Fine, Grady,” she teased, obviously not understanding how serious I was. No one but my mama and ex-best friend called me Jord
an.
My anger dissipated as she shifted purposely on my crotch. “You’re lookin’ hot…sitting on my lap,” I slurred, knowing drunk Grady could say whatever the fuck he wanted. Hell, sober Grady could do the same. And he did.
She laughed. “Is that the only place I look hot?”
I shook my head, my eyes drifting over her tight little body. “You look hot everywhere.”
She smiled, batting her eyelashes. “Can I tell you something?”
I could barely see her through my heavy eyelids. “What’s that?”
“I’ve liked you since seventh grade.”
My head shot back. “No shit?”
She nodded, her red curls bouncing all around. “You were just always with that little blonde who followed you around.”
“She didn’t follow me around,” I snapped.
Clearly not sensing my escalating anger, she giggled. “The guys said you let her because it boosted your ego.”
My stomach churned. I couldn’t be sure if it was the beer sloshing around in my gut or her off-handed words about Emery. It had been four months since Emery left without a word. A call. A letter. And, despite my new I-could-give-a-fuck attitude, I couldn’t erase her from my brain. Even liquor and girls like Mercy hadn’t helped shake the memory of my best friend. Of the hurt she inflicted by leaving. Of the fact that I’d been used for a safe place until she didn’t need one anymore.
I grabbed Mercy’s cheeks and pulled her mouth down to mine. The kiss was sloppy and in the middle of a living room filled with people, but I didn’t give a fuck. I’d been the nice guy, and I’d been taken advantage of and screwed over. I’d never make that mistake again. I did what I wanted now. To hell with the consequences.
To hell with my reputation.
To hell with everyone.
CHAPTER FIVE
Grady - 21
Present Day
“How much did you lose?” Abbott asked as he hovered over me, spotting me while I bench-pressed two-fifty.
“Since the start of last season,” I said, pushing the bar off my chest. “Seventy pounds and counting.”
“Wow.”
“Protein shakes and the gym, dude. That’s all it takes,” I said, lowering the bar again. “And lots of bedroom action.”
“Your hand gives you that much of a workout?”
“Fuck off,” I growled, struggling now to lift the bar.
He laughed as he steadied it for me.
It was late July and Abbott and I had just returned to campus, both of us offensive linemen who liked to get a jump on the season while waiting for the pre-season to begin.
“Thank God you got rid of that beard, dude,” Abbott said, guiding the bar back onto the rack after my final rep. “I’ve never met someone with such bad facial hair.”
I lay there breathing heavy and pissed that I’d gotten so much slack over a damn beard. “The ladies weren’t complaining when it was between their legs.”
“Dude, I live with you, remember? I haven’t seen any girls warming your bed since Yvette and that was sophomore year.”
“Worry about your own bed, Abbott,” I snapped, hating that I’d let anyone know me as well as him—and my friend Sabrina. She’d be returning soon to chill with me while Crosby Parks, her pro hockey player boyfriend, was off doing pre-season training up north.
Abbott rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You wanna hit up the bar tonight?”
I shrugged. It was weird being back in the weight room without Caden or our star wide receiver Trace Forester around. They’d both been leaders on and off the field for the last three years. But now they’d both been drafted and were off playing professional ball.
Don’t get me wrong. I was a good football player, most days anyway. But I was realistic. And a career in the pros just wasn’t in the cards for me. I loved football, but I knew I wasn’t good enough to be drafted. I’d probably end up a lawyer someday like my uncle.
“What the hell happened to you?” Coach asked as he stepped into the weight room.
Abbott and I exchanged a confused look.
Coach lifted his chin at me. “You’re half the size.”
“I lost some weight,” I said, sitting up and wiping my face with a towel.
“You lost a person. Did you do it the right way?” Coach asked.
I nodded. “I started last season. The weight came off gradually at first. Then over the winter break, I amped up my gym routine and it started dropping off.”
“Can you still defend your new QB?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He paused, and I hated when he did that because I never liked what followed. “Listen,” he started up again. “He’s good, but he’s gonna need some help getting adjusted to how things are done around here.”
“You asking me to take him under my wing?” I asked.
“Not asking, Grady.”
Abbott chuckled as Coach walked out of the weight room.
“Fuck,” I grumbled, hoping like hell Coach didn’t expect me to pick up the leader role. I’d been anything but a leader over the last three years. A screw-up maybe. But never a leader.
“I hear he’s a complete asshole,” Abbott said. “Thinks he’s a big shot now that he’s Alabama’s QB. I think coach wants you to knock him down a few pegs.”
“That’s all I need,” I groaned. “Some new prick coming in here like he owns the place.”
“Dude. Don’t you realize? You were that guy when you showed up freshmen year.”
“Was not.”
Abbott dropped his head back and howled. “Come on. You were loud, obnoxious, and a complete douche.”
I thought back to my earlier days on campus. I was a loud mouth. I fucked around. I pushed people’s buttons because I could, to hell with the repercussions.
“Actually, what am I saying. You’re still loud, obnoxious, and a complete douche,” Abbott said.
“Fuck off.” I whipped my sweaty towel at his face causing him to jump away from it.
“Asshole.”
“What’s this new guy’s name?” I asked.
“Flip Caruso.”
I choked. “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”
“Nope.”
“Even his name’s got douchebag written all over it.”
“Yup.”
CHAPTER SIX
Grady
“That’s him” Abbott said, lifting his chin at something behind me.
“Who?” I glanced over my shoulder with my beer bottle to my lips.
A six-foot jacked kid walked through the front door of the crowded bar with a ball cap low and off-centered.
I hated douches who couldn’t wear their hats straight.
“Flip Caruso.”
A few girls trailed him in, their fascination with the new QB written all over their excited faces. The chump pointed around the bar at different guys who pointed back at him.
What the fuck?
Caden was a hell of a QB and he never carried himself that way. His skills on the field spoke for him, not some over-the-top antics when he entered a room so everyone would know he was there like this clown.
“You want me to introduce you?” Abbott asked.
I turned back to him with disgust creeping into my body. “Nope.”
“You’re gonna have to meet him sooner or later.”
“Later.”
Abbott shrugged.
A hand landed on my back. I stilled. I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions if our first interaction ended with my fist in Flip’s face.
“Can’t a girl get a hello?”
My smile sprang free as I spun on my stool.
Sabrina stood there all blonde, hot, and sassy with her BFF Finlay by her side. Both their mouths dropped open as they took me in, their eyes about ready to burst from their sockets. “Holy shit,” Sabrina said.
“What’d you do with Grady?” Finlay’s dark waves whipped over her shoulder as she searched the bar around us.
; I shrugged. “What? I lost some weight.” And worked my ass off doing it.
“You look freaking hotttttt,” Sabrina said.
I laughed, wishing she would’ve looked at me that way over the past two years. I was still the same guy who pushed Finlay’s buttons. The one who said stupid shit. The one who helped her get back together with her pro hockey player. “Same me. Freaking hot and amazing in the sack.”
“Yup,” Finlay said, rolling her eyes. “Same douchebag.” Finlay used to be the team’s water girl and was spending a couple days on campus with Sabrina before heading to nursing school in Florida where her boyfriend—my ex-quarterback Caden Brooks—had been drafted. Finlay didn’t love me, but after two years, I could tell I was growing on her.
“Are you Grady?” a guy asked from somewhere nearby.
I twisted to my right.
The new QB stood there eyeing me.
“Who’s asking?” I knew full well who the tool was.
“Flip Caruso.” He stuck out his fist for me to bump. “Your new quarterback.”
I stared at his fist, despising the way ‘your’ quarterback sounded coming out of his mouth. This guy was gonna have to earn his position. And my respect.
Realizing I wasn’t about to tap his fist, he dropped it and glanced to Sabrina and Finlay, his head shooting back and his features softening. “Hey girls. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Nope,” Sabrina said. “We don’t hang out with freshmen.”
That’s my girl.
“I may be a freshman, but I’m also the team’s new quarterback,” he assured her.
Sabrina hitched her thumb over her shoulder at Finlay. “Her boyfriend’s Caden Brooks.”
Finlay cocked her head. “Sorry if we’re not impressed by some college quarterback.”
Nice, water girl.
Flip let their disinterest roll right off him—or he was too stupid to realize they’d roasted his ass. His eyes shot back to mine, colder and douchier. “I’ve watched game tapes. You gonna have my back on the field?”
I lifted my bottle to my lips and chugged the rest of my beer. “Practice begins Monday. Time will tell.”
“Time isn’t what I’m worried about,” Flip clipped. “Getting steamrolled because you can’t do your job is my concern.”
