by Knight, Amie
I walked her to her car at the end of the night and shut her in. She smiled and waved at me through the window as I backed away and headed to my car nearby.
I jumped in quickly and cranked the car up so I could follow her home and make sure she made it there safely.
We pulled into her apartment complex and she parked in a space close to the building. I pulled in beside her and watched her get out of the car. She walked over to my driver’s door, shaking her head and smiling.
“What are you doing, Luk?”
“Making sure you got home okay.”
She nodded slowly, thoughtfully, looking down into my window at me, her eyes dreamy. “Where’d you learn to dance like that, anyway, Mister Quarterback?”
I smiled because I couldn’t help it. I’d hated those lessons, but my mother had insisted I should know how to dance. Whenever I’d complain she’d just shake her head and say, “You don’t wanna disappoint your wife on her wedding day, now, do you?”
I hadn’t thought about it in years. And I’d never been grateful for those lessons until tonight. I’d say my momma was right and it wasn’t the first time over the years I’d realized it.
“My momma was a dancer. She gave me lessons. She insisted. She was old-school like that.”
“Your momma was everything, Lukas. Raising children on her own, working a full-time job, and making sure you were amazing.”
My breath caught. My heart skipped a beat. “You think I’m amazing?”
She took a step back from the car and laughed. “Quit fishing, Lukas. You know how perfect you are.”
I was far from perfect, but the fact she thought I was meant a hell of a lot. I stared up at her, my eyes full of questions. Mostly about why we had to just be friends.
She lost her smile and her face became serious. “You know friends don’t follow each other home to make sure they made it okay.”
My hands tight on the wheel, I shrugged. “Ya know, Red, the friend zone has never really been my thing.”
Her eyes daring, she asked, “So, what is your thing, Lukas?”
I put the car in reverse and took a slow gander at her face. I stared at her thick, red hair that I wanted wrapped around my fist, down to her full lips I wanted around my cock. “Mmm, I’m thinking The Red Zone might be more my speed.”
Pink hit her cheeks as she bit her bottom lip to hide her smile. “Good night, Mister Quarterback,” she said, turning and heading for her apartment.
“Good night, Ms. Knox,” I called back.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was leaving Ella with Allison. To go hang out in a bar and I didn’t even drink. What the fuck was I thinking? I’ll tell you what I was thinking. I was thinking about the last time Allison and Ella had been left alone for more than five seconds. I was thinking about all the things Ella could learn tonight. I was thinking of the Alabama Hair Party in my damn bathroom. That’s what I was thinking about.
Allison and I’d had a long talk about what not to and what to discuss with my impressionable sister, but I had a really bad feeling that our talk had gone in one teenage ear and out the other.
I really just wanted to go home. I was already regretting my decision to go out, but Mason must have known I’d try to bail because he had me leave my car at the stadium, which meant I was riding shotgun in his giant white truck that looked like it was older than I was.
“Where are we going again?”
I was really damn tired and grumpy and just wanted to go home and check on Ells. Where I could think about Scarlett and her two left feet, sweet smile, and sexy as sin ass. Jesus, I was fucked. One go around the dance floor and I wanted to dance with her forever. She was still the fun, silly, Skittles-eating girl I’d adored. Only now, she was a woman and that was a deadly combination for me. I wanted her. Bad. I was almost 100 percent sure she was ghosting my ass. I hadn’t talked to her in days. I’d tried texting. I wasn’t feeling brave enough for a phone call yet, but I could see it on the horizon. She was the only good thing about my life at the moment besides Ella. I needed to talk to her.
“Damn, don’t act so damn excited to hang out with a friend.” He was giving me the side-eye and I was pretending I wasn’t seeing his judgy ass gaze.
“Is that what we are now? Friends?”
Turning the radio down, he said, “Well, shit, Lucy. I don’t wanna kiss you or anything, but I definitely think we’re friends. Am I wrong?”
I thought how not long ago he’d tried to choke me against the side of my vehicle and now we were friends. And how now he paid me and my sister visits for dinner. Crazy fucker.
I shook my head and mumbled, “I don’t understand you, Mason.”
He huffed a sarcastic laugh. “And I’m supposed to understand you? Hell, half of the team assumed you came home because you knocked up a chick or something. But you’re home to take care of your sister. Yet you tell no one. In fact, you act like you don’t give a fuck about the team.”
God, he wasn’t starting on that shit again. And I was stuck in the damn truck with him.
Fuck. He was right about the team. I didn’t give a shit. I had too many other things on my mind. It used to be I lived my life to play football and now I played football so I could live my life. Season would be starting soon and we definitely weren’t playing like the well-oiled machine my team in Florida had. But how was I supposed to act like we were a team when everyone hated my guts? I ran my hands through my hair. “Everyone on the team hates me.”
He glanced at me from the driver’s seat, his eyes serious. “Nah, man. They don’t hate you. They hate how you’re acting.”
I looked up at him. “How’s that?”
“Like a complete dick.”
I nodded. He wasn’t wrong. But I was also having the hardest time of my life and it didn’t have a damn thing to do with football. The truth of it was I hadn’t had time to mourn my mother. Christ, Ella hadn’t properly mourned her either.
I didn’t say anything else. What was there left to say? I could have come clean about it all and told him everything. How I’d lost my dad who’d taught me to play ball. Who’d come to every game. Who told me I was going to be one of the greats. And then how I’d lost my mom, too. The woman who’d kept my dad’s football dream alive by paying for camps with money we didn’t have and carting my ass to and from practices in the middle of working long shifts on her feet all day. Everyone who’d believed in me was gone. That’s what I wanted to say, scream. But I couldn’t do that. Because I was a grown fucking man with a kid now. I couldn’t afford to be sad. I had to keep my shit together.
I stared out the window in thought as he drove past the little shops and restaurants in downtown Summerville. It was a cute little town and part of me was happy to be back. The other part of me was sad that I didn’t have more family here to enjoy the time with. I wasn’t particularly fun to hang out with anyway. Although you’d never know it the way Mason hounded me. I didn’t even have a clue why this man wanted to be my friend. I’d been a shitty teammate, definitely not worthy of friendship. I was starting to feel like I wasn’t worth much lately.
We pulled up outside of a long brick building loaded with shops and restaurants. Mason parallel parked his monster of a truck right in front of The Mills. It was a place that had been in Summerville longer than I had. It was part coffee shop, part bar. The upstairs was usually crawling with college kids studying with headphones on and MacBooks and lattes on the tables in front of them while the bottom was more of the adult variety.
I waited on the sidewalk as Mason came around the truck saying, “We’re meeting my neighbor and his sister. He plays ball for State.” He shrugged. “He’s not bad.”
As we walked in, he finished. “Man, you should see his sister. She’s a damn knockout redhead.”
And just as he said redhead, I saw her there, sitting with what I could only assume was Oliver, her brother. I never had the pleasure of meeting him when we were younger, but she’d mentioned him plent
y in conversation.
The look of surprise on her face didn’t shock me. I was probably wearing a similar look. I shook my head with a smile because Summerville was a small town, but it wasn’t this small anymore. It felt like fate, me seeing her there. And that scared the hell out of me because my good ole Red didn’t seem to want to have a thing to do with me. And all I could think about when I wasn’t taking care of Ella was her.
I’d been trying to keep my distance. I’d been trying to play it cool. Fate had other plans, though, and I had to say they weren’t bad plans at all. At least for me.
We walked up to the table, my eyes glued to Scarlett’s, and she looked like she’d seen a ghost. I took a bit of a guilty pleasure at the sheer panic on her face.
“Hey, y’all!” Mason’s booming voice snapped me out of our stare-down and I looked over at him, waiting for the introductions, and he didn’t let me down.
“Scarlett and Oliver, this is my buddy, Luk.” He gave me a shit-eating grin. “You can call him Lucy. He’s new to the team.”
Scarlett’s mouth hitched a little like she wanted to smile despite herself. “Hey there, Lucy.” Her emeralds shined up at me knowingly. Ah. She wasn’t going to acknowledge we knew each other, then.
Oh, so we were doing this. We were pretending we didn’t know each other. Fun.
Oliver stood up and thrust out his hand. “Hey, man, I’m Oliver, but you can call me Ollie. Most of my friends do.”
Looking Oliver over, I immediately noticed he didn’t look at all like pale, creamy-skinned, redheaded Scarlett. He was dark-haired and tan and completely opposite.
“Nice to meet you, Ollie.” I shook his hand. “Contrary to popular belief”—I eyed Mason—“I just go by Luk.”
Ollie gave a low laugh as we all took our seats. Immediately, drinks were ordered. I opted for water while everyone else had beer.
“Have a beer, Lucy,” Mason boomed.
My eyes met Scarlett’s over the table. I didn’t miss the softening in them. The understanding. It was clear to me in that moment she was one of the only people in the world that was left who really knew me. The whole me. The boy who’d lost his father me. The kid with a dream me. The man who’d lost his mother and was now raising his sister me.
“I don’t drink.” My gaze didn’t leave hers. Those pretty greens were giving me strength.
“Why?”
Jesus. What the hell was this? Twenty fucking questions? I let out a deep sigh and my eyes finally left Scarlett’s but only to take in the shift of her hand sliding across the table. She didn’t quite make it to my hand before Mason interjected again.
“You a recovering drunk or something?”
The fucking nerve, so I let him have it. I turned and looked at him. “No, my dad was killed by a drunk driver.”
His face fell and the guilt hit me hard. He didn’t deserve for me to tell him like that, but I’d felt interrogated and defensive. “Damn. I’m sorry, man.”
I shot him a sad smile. “It’s cool. It was a long time ago. I was a kid.” I always said that when people said they were sorry. But the truth was, losing someone never got easier. It only got harder. Because one day, years after they’d passed, you’d wake up and realize you forgot the sound of their voice, the pitch of their laugh, their smell. And that was the fucking sad part.
Football was the topic of conversation. An easy one for me even if I didn’t feel like socializing, but I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off the fidgeting Scarlett. She seemed uncomfortable with me here and the thought made me a little giddy. Because I’d been uncomfortable for days thinking about her. Wanting to talk to her.
“So, Scarlett. What do you do for a living?”
I caught her mid-drink and a little beer might have come out of her nose. I grinned.
Wiping her face with a napkin and coughing, she tried to answer. “I’m a teacher.”
I nodded. “How lovely.”
She nodded back frantically while wiping her face with the white paper. “Mmmhmm.”
Mason jumped in. “Yeah, you teach special needs, right?”
Her wide eyes flew to me as she picked up her beer glass and took a healthy sip after giving us a quick, “Yep.”
I probably smiled a bit bigger than I should have and she glared at me from behind the napkin pressed to her lips and a silent chuckle vibrated in my chest. Five minutes in her presence and she had me grinning and laughing like a crazy person. No, like a happy person. Damn her. It had always been this way. Easy. Why was she fighting it now?
Mason looked at me from behind his beer. “Cool. Maybe she knows Ells. Where do you teach, Scarlett?”
Scarlett shot up out of her chair. “Excuse me. I have an emergency phone call.” She darted for the front door, her hands frantically working her phone before stepping outside and pressing it to her ear.
Ollie looked out the clear front door and laughed. “She’s a nut.” He shook his head.
Mason leaned over the table closer to Ollie conspiratorially. “So, your sister. Is she single?”
I’d been watching Scarlett out the window as she waved her hands around frantically and talked quickly, but the minute Mason asked Oliver that question all my focus changed immediately.
Ollie laughed. “Yeah, man. As far as I know she’s as single as it gets. Damn near lives like a nun. She’s married to her job.”
Mason leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. I wasn’t pleased at all. In fact, I felt like I was going to be sick. The thought of Mason with Scarlett. It didn’t fit. Not at all. They’d never work out. Besides, he was much older than her.
I couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. “Aren’t you a little old for her?”
Half of Mason’s mouth kicked up in a grin. “Wow. You make me sound like an old man, Lucy. I’m only thirty-six.”
I shrugged, feeling petty as fuck. “That’s pretty old in football terms.”
Now he leaned closer to me, his blue eyes dancing. “I’m not too old to kick your ass on the field.”
He wasn’t lying. He’d been beating the shit out of me. But right then I decided I’d die before I let him have Scarlett. True, it had been years since I’d kissed her goodbye, but she’d still felt like mine the moment I’d seen her come twirling into that classroom. He couldn’t have her.
Mason leaned out of my space before I could tell him he couldn’t have her. He took a long pull of his beer before looking out the window. “How old is sweet Scarlett, Ollie?”
Sweet Scarlett. I’d kill him with my bare hands. He did not get to call her sweet.
“Twenty-four,” Ollie answered, his eyes volleying back and forth between us knowingly.
“Too fucking young,” I said again, but our argument was cut short as Scarlett entered the room again and sat down.
Her smile was back. “Hey, what did I miss?”
Ollie smiled at us. “Oh, plenty,” he said, while I answered, “Nothing much.”
She looked between Ollie and me confused, but Ollie changed the subject.
“Who was that?”
“Oh, just Hazel. She wanted to talk about something quickly. I invited her to hang with us.”
Oliver lost his smile and he swallowed hard and I grinned. Looked like whoever this Hazel was, she made good ole Ollie nervous. Looked like the evening was going to get a whole lot interesting and all of sudden I wasn’t that gloom and doom about going out with Mason tonight. It was turning out to be an interesting night, after all.
“When will Hazel be here?” Oliver was looking at Scarlett, so Mason leaned closer to me so only I could hear.
“Damn. I wonder if all that gorgeous red hair is everywhere.” He waggled his eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.”
I knew what the fuck he meant and I was fuming. I could practically feel the hot air coming out of my ears. He would never find out if she was red everywhere if I had anything to say about it. And I did. I fucking did.
But Mason wasn’t was
ting any fucking time. “So, Scarlett, Ollie here was just telling us you’re single?”
“He did?” Big eyes looked back and forth between Mason and I. “Well, yeah. I guess I am.”
She lifted her beer glass to her lips but realized it was empty.
“Is that so?” Mason’s voice was full of flirtation and I wanted to kill him. Dead. Really dead.
She gave him a tight, close-lipped smile before looking over at Ollie. “Let’s do shots.”
His smile fell. “What?”
“Shots,” she said a little louder.
When Ollie only looked at her with a bit of confusion, she got up out of her chair. “Fine, I’ll get them.”
She walked to the bar and leaned over it, and I admired the way her denim shorts clung to her ass. Turned out so did Mason.
“Jesus. You see that ass, man? Fuck, she’s hot,” he said so only I could hear, but Ollie wasn’t paying us much attention anyhow. He was checking out a brown-haired girl wearing a hoodie who’d just come in and had stopped at the bar to talk to Scarlett.
Scarlett made her way back over with another tall beer but without shots. She shrugged as she sat down. “Turns out, they don’t sell hard liquor. Beer will have to do.”
She took a healthy sip and I couldn’t help but smile. She was ridiculous and adorable and fuck if I didn’t want to kiss the beer right off her lips.
Hoodie girl came over and sat right in between Scarlett and Ollie. She nudged Ollie with her shoulder. “Hey there, Oliver.” She was cute and I was praying that Mason switched his fixation to her, but I could tell right away that Hazel only had eyes for Ollie.
“Gonna introduce me to your friends?” she asked him, the flirtation blatant in her eyes.
He cleared his throat and swallowed hard, and I even saw a bit of sweat form on his forehead. He either had it bad or Hazel scared the shit out of him. Either way, it was good entertainment.
Ollie motioned to Mason. “That’s Mason, our neighbor.” His head nodded toward me. “And that’s his friend, Luk. He plays ball with Mason.”
