The Firsts Series Box Set

by M. J. Fields

  I call London on my way up and let her know I will be there tomorrow morning.

  “Take your time. I have a date in New York City tomorrow. Maddox and Harper asked if I wanted to ride with them. They’re driving down to meet with Thomas’s lawyer to finalize his estate.”

  “We fly out in the morning; you sure you want to go with them?” I ask.

  “Yeah, actually,” she whispers. “Maddox asked. I think he needs me there.”

  It’s really damn odd.

  “All right then.” I sigh. “What time are you heading out? I’d like to see you before you leave.”

  She fucking laughs at me. “Oh no. Nope. I’ll see you in New York.”

  “London...”

  “I love you. See you in New York.” She hangs up on me.

  I will make her regret that one.

  §

  Sitting in the waiting room for my turn, Trucker walks in. I nod at him, and he nods back before looking around for a place to sit. The spot to my left is free, but he walks across the room and sits in a seat next to Coach.

  Ass kisser.

  When it’s my turn to go in, I promise myself not to take up too much time. It’s nearly midnight and there are still a couple more guys waiting.

  I walk by his parents, who look fucking exhausted. His father is holding his mother, and they both have tears running down their faces.

  I sit next to Downs. He looks a hell of a lot better than he did, but that clearly doesn’t mean shit.

  “Hey, Downs,. It’s Logan. Look, man, I’ve done five years here, three with you, and until you wake the fuck up, I’m stuck here.” I pat his shoulder and sigh. “Your folks haven’t left. Your team takes shifts. Hell, there was a rumor Coach Brown was going to retire if you didn’t wake up, and we all know he’s done his time.”

  I sigh again, trying to think of something more to say and admit as much to him.

  “I’m grasping at what to say, man. You can bet your ass, if I knew what play to call to get you up and on the line, I would.” I breathe out heavily.

  “That’s offense’s job.”

  I look up to see Trucker walking in.

  He stands on the opposite side of Downs’ bed, looks at me then nods to the door. “The doctor wants us to come in two at a time; speed up the process.”

  I nod.

  “Trucker’s here, Downs. You must be something special to bring his ugly ass back here from living it up down in Jersey.”

  “He’s something special for sure. Always thought he was better than both of us on the field.” Trucker scowls at me. “Look, Downs, the sooner you wake up, the sooner I’ll get to go back to where I belong. You do it soon, I’ll make damn sure to put in a good word for you down there. Would be really cool to play with a friend again. You do it tonight, I’ll buy you a new fucking car.”

  I roll my eyes, and Trucker sneers silently at me.

  “More of the guys are waiting to come in, man. We need you to fight. We need you to wake up; give us some hope. You were always that guy. See you soon, Downs.” I grip his shoulder before walking out.

  “How’s he look?” Coach Brown asks when I walk into the waiting room.

  “Better. Looks better, Coach,” I tell him as I sit next to him.

  He nods.

  “You been in yet?”

  He shakes his head. “Can’t do it.”

  “Tough shit, old man. He looks up to you. We all do.”

  When everyone has been in and returned, I look back at Coach and whisper, “I’m not leaving until you get your ass in there and tell him to fight.”

  Trucker sits on his other side. “He’s right.”

  “Usually am,” I jab.

  “You two need to knock the shit off,” Coach Brown tells us. “That could be one of you lying in there right now. Think about how that would make your ugly asses feel.” He stands up and takes a few steps before looking back. “I fucking mean it.”

  When he walks out the door, I look at Trucker. “This doesn’t right your fucking wrongs, you hear me?”

  He leans in. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me.”

  “The hell you don’t.” I pull my hat down and lean back.

  “You sticking around?” Mitch asks. He’s sitting on the other side of me.

  “I’m here till the old man gets back,” I tell him without looking at him.

  Mitch leans over. “I know what the fuck you’re doing. I wouldn’t expect anything less. I’m talking to the fucking superstar over there.”

  “You got a fucking problem with me, bitch two?” Trucker whisper-hisses at him.

  “I got more than one,” Mitch snaps. “You make a good show here. Act like you give a damn about any of us, then go in there and tell a dying man to fight when you just really wanna know if his swimmers got there first.”

  “You better put your boy in check,” Trucker tells me.

  “I’m not anyone’s boy,” Mitch snaps. “And I’m not anyone’s daddy either.”

  “You better shut your fucking mouth,” Trucker whispers.

  Mitch laughs. “Or what?”

  “End it...now.” I look at Mitch. “For Downs.”

  I look at my phone when it vibrates in my hand. It’s London.

  “Hey,” I whisper, looking around and noticing my teammates are sleeping.

  “Sorry to call so late. Just wanted you to know we’re at the hotel,” she yawns out.

  “Thank you for calling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You will,” she says with a smile in her voice.

  “Are you prepared?” I whisper even lower.

  She giggles. “Overprepared.”

  “Love you, London Fields. Sleep well, okay?”

  “Love you, Logan Links. I will. Tomorrow,” she promises.

  “You bet your ass you will,” I tell her.

  “Goodnight. Think about me...in the shower or something.” Her voice is throaty and sexy as hell.

  I stand up and walk out the door. “Do me a favor?”

  “Anything,” she rasps.

  I whisper, “Tell me how wet you are.”

  “I’ll show you tomorrow.” Then the line goes dead.

  Damn her.

  I walk back in, sit down, close my eyes, and wait.

  §

  “Team, wake the hell up!” I wake to Coach Brown yelling. “Let’s go, go, go!”

  “Have you lost your damn mind?” I ask him while rubbing my eyes.

  When I open them, I see the old man smiling, tears rolling down his face.

  “No, son, I just witnessed a miracle. Thought I’d share it with you.”

  “Is he awake?”

  “Praise be to God, men. Downs is awake, and he’s full of piss and vinegar.” He laughs. “Now line it up and get ready to go see for yourselves.”

  I grab my phone out of my pocket. “Fuck.”

  Mitch grabs his. “It’s seven thirty.”

  “Aw, fuck,” I snarl, glancing at Trucker.

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Mine’s dead, too. Missed our flight.”

  I look at Mitch. “You wanna text Jamie and have her tell London to call me on yours?”

  “When you’re done, I need it,” Trucker tells me.

  “Fuck. You,” Mitch snaps at him.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” Trucker snaps back.

  “You.” With that, Mitch walks away.

  “Leave him alone, Trucker; I’m warning you.”

  “Am I supposed to be afraid of you?” he huffs.

  §

  “Can’t fucking believe we couldn’t get a flight and I have to be cooped up in a fucking vehicle with you for five miserable hours,” Trucker grumbles as he fucks with the seat again, trying to get comfortable.

  “Feeling’s mutual, asshole.”

  He sits up and looks at me. “You do know you could have gone pro, too, so tell me why the fucking attitude? No, fuck that. Why the fuck did you decide to shit all over me and crawl up Keeka�
��s ass?”

  “You fucking left, man. You left and didn’t look back, so save your bullshit.”

  “I left to do what we were supposed to do all along. I had nothing to do with what went down with Ava. I was there for you, and you pushed me away. You don’t see me crying because I fucking needed you when my life went out of control.”

  “I didn’t push shit. I did what I had to for my family.”

  “And when the fuck did I stop being part of that?”

  I look over at him, shocked.

  “I tried to support you. I did support you the best I could while trying to keep my fucking grades up, graduate, and then leave all that was normal to me with none of the support I was used to.”

  “You needed something, you should have said so.”

  “When, Logan? When T died? When Luke got blown up? When you stopped fucking answering messages? I fucking tried. I tried so damn hard that I almost didn’t graduate.”

  “Had plenty of time to get Keeka knocked up, even after you knew you were fucking her before she was eighteen.”

  He laughs haughtily. “You’d have been fucking London if you weren’t so worried about what everyone around you would say, so save the sermon for Sundays, Links.”

  “You should have wrapped your shit, then you wouldn’t be in this fucking situation.”

  “You know damn well I walked away from her. She kept showing up. I did what I had to do to make a point.”

  I knew exactly what he did. I took a page from his playbook when I was trying to get London to end our shit when I didn’t want her to get hurt. But I didn’t actually fuck anyone. He did.

  “She kept showing up. I kept pushing her ass away. I didn’t fuck her or anyone else those last two months when you left. We hung out. She cooked and shit. I told her we couldn’t be together. She said she didn’t care and wanted to be my fucking friend, because she knew I missed your ass. She was right; I did. And believe it or not, brother, I was worried sick about all of you, including Ava. I was fucking lonely. Weak, too.” He huffs. “Should have gotten a puppy. At least they can’t text nonstop.”

  I hold back a laugh.

  “I fucked up by doing her ‘one last time.’ She was on the fucking pill, and only with me,” he says in a sarcastic tone. “Should have known better when she called me up, accusing me of giving her a fucking disease.”

  “You what?” I ask for clarification.

  “I nothing. Mitch and Downs had her in their beds the last week of school; a week after I told her no fucking more.”

  “Mitch didn’t fuck her. Mitch woke up with her in his bed and had no idea how she got there. He did a paternity test, and just so you know, he’s had one fuck of a year because of you.”

  “Why is it my fault she climbed in his bed? And do you believe he really didn’t fuck her?”

  “I have no idea why she climbed in his bed.” I pause and think. “Did you have someone in yours?”

  “Every fucking night,” he answers proudly. “Disease free. Didn’t give her a damn thing, so yeah, I was pissed at her for lying to me.”

  “ ’Cause you were falling for her,” I tell him.

  He doesn’t disagree. “Like I said, I should have gotten a puppy.”

  It’s quiet for a while. I can’t stop thinking about what he said.

  “Two sides to each story,” I say out loud.

  “And then some,” he adds, looking out the window.

  Again, silence.

  This time Trucker breaks it.

  “You have family, Logan. You’re gonna always be okay. Someone’s always gonna have your back. I didn’t have shit, but now, now I don’t need it. Believe it or not, I did what I thought was best for you all. Just like I’ll fucking do what’s best for that kid, if it’s mine.”

  “Keeka has no intention of going after you, so if you have no intention of being a dad, leave it alone.”

  “So you can play daddy to what might be mine?” He sighs.

  “I’d play daddy to ten of her,” I answer. Then I get pissed again. “You had us the entire time. All you had to do was say something, Trucker.”

  “And like I said, I can take care of myself.” He sighs. “And now that the whole Ross, Hines, and Links crew think I’m the daddy, I’m gonna make sure if I am, I take care of it.”

  “Her,” I tell him. “Leddie Lou is a girl, not an it. And no one will say a word. She’s their family. You know better than to think they’ll allow any drama that is unavoidable. And my dad sure as hell isn’t gonna let anyone fuck with you, so you do what you gotta do. But understand, Keeka is my sister-in-law. That makes that little angel baby my niece. I’ll go to war for her.”

  “News flash, Links, you and London aren’t married. She’s not your anything. Don’t piss on my territory, or you’ll be trespassing.”

  I loom over him. “London and I are engaged.”

  He holds back a smile and looks away. “Fucking knew you were in love with that girl.”

  “Shut up and get some sleep. You’re gonna need to drive in a couple hours. I’m fucking exhausted.”

  “Can’t we just shelve this date?” he asks as he lies down. “Call this Madison up and say, hey, Downs woke up from a coma and we need to reschedule.”

  I shake my head. “They’re already in New York City.” I laugh now.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Emma bid on the date under an assumed name. London is our date.”

  “This day just keeps getting worse,” he grumbles. “So, why the fuck do I have to go?”

  “You’re the one who made this thing a big damn deal with Isabella Steel,” I remind him.

  “Did you check her out? That woman is worth making a big damn deal over.” He smirks.

  “I’d be checking in on my responsibilities before I go sniffing around, looking for a piece of ass,” I advise him.

  “Thanks for the advice. Now I’ll give you some. Stop pissing on my territory; you’re trespassing.”

  I fucking laugh at him. “You wanna be Daddy or you wanna fuck the Steel chick?”

  “Got no problem doing both, if it’s mine.”

  “Say it one more time, and I will fucking throw you out of this vehicle.”

  “I get you sticking up for...”—he pauses, and I look over, daring him to say it one more fucking time—“the kid.” Lucky motherfucker. “But how about you think about what the fuck I told you. Bitch told me I gave her a damn disease. I didn’t. Never fucking had one. That’s not enough to stop treating me like some piece of shit, how about you think about how you’d feel if you busted that cherry and London started bed hopping in your territory?”

  “If I were fucking everything offered, I’d deserve it.”

  “Judgmental fuck,” he says, lying back in the seat again.

  I don’t wanna fight with the dick, so I say nothing.

  “You need me to drive now?” he asks.

  “No.”

  §

  “I told you I’d drive.” Trucker yawns as he sits up. “Jesus, Logan, you could have woken me up.”

  “I’m fine,” I say, taking another drink of iced coffee.

  He looks at it, then in the back where the other four I’d already drank are shoved in the cardboard cup holder on the floor.

  “Fucking ridiculous,” he groans.

  “There’s a bag on the floor. Food in it. Got you a cup of coffee, too.” I point to the cup holder.

  “You really should have woken me up,” he says, pawing through the Dunkin’ Donuts bag.

  “Clearly, you needed the sleep more than I did.”

  He laughs at me. “You’ve always been the one who required more sleep.”

  “Well, times have changed.” I pause, but then decide fuck it. “Babies will do that to you.” I glance sideways at him.

  “So, you what, take care of...”—he pauses again, and I wait for him to say it, hoping I can push his ass out of the damn vehicle—kid? “She too busy sleeping and shit talking me?”


  “She doesn’t shit talk you one fucking bit. She begged me not to call you,” I tell him. “And she went through some shit.”

  “What kind of shit?”

  I swear I hear concern in his voice, so I tell him straight up. “That girl has been through a lot, Trucker. No family, while trying to figure out what she’ll do to raise a baby alone.”

  “Was she gonna give it up?” he asks.

  “No, but she couldn’t look at her without crying the first few days. Not sure if it’s the whole baby blues thing, or the fact she found out she was Troy Fields’ kid. But we got her through it.”

  I laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Hell, everyone offered to take her. Brody and Emma, Dad and Tessa.” I shake my head as I see the line of cars waiting to get in the Lincoln tunnel and come to a complete stop. “Fuck.”

  I grab my phone and hit London’s number. She answers immediately.

  “You have one hour to get here.”

  I laugh. “Well, hello to you, too.”

  “Hey,” she says, and I know I hear a smile in her voice.

  “Hi, London,” Trucker says.

  “I can’t believe I have to deal with you—”

  “London, we’re heading into the Lincoln Tunnel. We’re gonna lose service. But we’re almost there.”

  “Can’t wait,” she tells me.

  “Me either,” Trucker grumbles.

  “Unreal,” she sighs out. “What were you thinking, Logan?”

  I know she’s talking about the date and having Trucker on it, as well.

  “I made nice with Reeves; you can deal with this.” I laugh.

  “Fletcher didn’t knock up your sister and dodge his responsibility,” she huffs.

  “You got a magic eight ball, London?” Trucker asks.

  “You wanna talk about balls with me, super sperm?” she snaps at him, and I fight back a laugh.

  Trucker looks at me and shakes his head. “You sure you wanna wife her?”

  “Change of plans. Let’s skip the show tonight and take Trucker to get fitted for cement shoes for his swim in—”

  The phone cuts out.

  Trucker shakes his head. “I know you’ve wanted to tap that forever, but let me ask you: was it worth all that?”