Another New Life

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Another New Life Page 6

by Sydney Aaliyah Michelle


  I let my hair air dry as I put on a little makeup, another influence from Darcy. If I didn't watch it, I might turn into a girly girl. I wore black leggings and an oversized white-and-blue striped t-shirt and blue flip-flops.

  I walked outside and found Troy sitting on a picnic table with his feet dangling over the edge. His hair, semi-dry, stood up all over his head, but for him it looked put together. I wanted to stop and watch him, but that would have been weird.

  My senses were on high alert and chills ran up my arm when his fingers grazed mine as he handed me my coffee. The scent of his shampoo hung in the air and made me want to put my nose in it. He took a sip of his coffee, staring at me over the rim. I took a sip of mine.

  "How's the coffee?" His voice sounded groggy and sexy as hell. The coffee tasted like the best coffee I had ever had.

  "Fine." I took another sip as Troy stood up in front of me.

  "Let me taste." He grabbed the cup and set it down with one hand. He grabbed my face with the other, and his lips touched mine in one smooth move. A low moan escaped my throat as he moved his hand to my lower back. When his lips left mine, I wanted to protest, but he was just moving them to my neck, which was fine with me, because I got my chance to smell his hair. I inhaled the clean, intoxicating smell and smiled.

  "I missed you," he whispered. I let him know I missed him, too. I kissed a spot on the side of his neck, and it was his turn to moan. He found my lips again, and this time we moaned together.

  "We better stop. I don't think they allow people to have sex on the quad," I said.

  "Yeah, it's frowned upon." He kissed me once more and took his seat back on the table.

  "How do you know?" I said, nudging him with my elbow. "How many girls have you made out with on this picnic table?"

  He turned and kissed the side of my head. "Made out with? Only you."

  "Ew." I jumped off the table. "What else have you done on this table?"

  Troy grabbed my hand and kissed it. "Nothing, I'm not a PDA kind of guy, but I can't seem to keep my hands off of you."

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and stared into his eyes.

  "I can't stop thinking about you."

  "Really, what are you thinking about?"

  "How cute and sexy you are."

  "You only want me for my body?" he teased me.

  I couldn't help running my fingers down his muscular arms.

  "You have a problem with that?" My eyes stared at the inch of skin visible near the collar of his sweatshirt. I wanted to crawl inside his oversized sweatshirt and hold on tight. I leaned in and kissed the spot instead.

  "No," he said.

  "Do you have any idea how we got here?"

  "Fate, mixed with luck, and a tiny bit of destiny."

  "You make it sound so simple."

  "Well, it just makes sense." He rubbed his lips against mine. "We're supposed to be together."

  It did make sense, and the physical attraction couldn't be denied, but lust did not make a relationship, and our history could only take us so far.

  ***

  When we entered Troy's house, Chris Berman's voice murmured under the guys’ conversation about the two-zone defense. The testosterone leveled at a peak.

  "Guys, tone it down, there's a lady present," Troy yelled ahead. I followed him into the living room. I wasn't sure what to expect considering he shared his house with three other guys. A large brown couch covered the back wall. Two recliners sat on each side of a square-shaped coffee table. A sixty-inch flat screen television covered the wall opposite the couch. Surround sound hit me from every angle.

  The discussion stopped, and all three guys turned to stare at me.

  "Hey, guys, this is Miranda," he said. "Randa, you know Ry."

  "Hey, Miranda." Ryan gave me a hug and took the bags of food out of my hand and headed to the kitchen.

  "Hi."

  "That's Todd." Troy pointed to a short guy sitting in the recliner on the left. "We call him TD because he gets people into the end zone."

  The guys laughed. I smiled although I didn’t get the joke. I needed to brush up on my football humor if I was going to hang with this group. He struggled to stand up and shook my hand. I could see his legs shaking from across the room.

  "Nice to meet you, Miranda." His voice cracked when he said my name.

  "That's David." David carried the same set of muscles, but on a six-foot-four frame. David waved from where he sat on the floor between the two recliners.

  "Hi."

  "Have a seat, I'll be right back." Troy motioned toward the couch.

  I sat down, and both Todd and David turned to look at me.

  "So, Miranda," Todd said, "Where are you from? How do you know our Troy? What are your intentions with our little boy?"

  "TD." Troy hit TD on the arm. "Shut up."

  "Ouch." TD rubbed his arm. "Geez, man, I told you I smacked my elbow on that damn D-back's helmet."

  "You smacked it on his helmet when he ran past you to tackle Ry," David said.

  TD must have been storing up some energy, because he sprang out of the recliner like a cat and tackled David on the floor.

  Happy the attention was off of me, I laughed as David flipped TD on his back and pushed his knee into his neck. "Apologize to the young lady."

  "Apologize for what," he said, struggling to catch his breath. His arms flailed at his side, and he kept testing to see if he could gain leverage on David. I wanted to laugh, but he looked like he was in pain.

  "For being a fucking dickhead." David's eyes found mine. "Sorry for my language."

  I waved it off and nodded. I'd heard worse. I'd said worse.

  With David's attention focused on me, TD pushed him onto his back, but it took David a second to regain control and this time, he sat on him.

  "Okay, I give," Todd said.

  "Apologize."

  "I apologize."

  "Good." David sat on the floor, and TD rolled over and coughed as he climbed back into the recliner, rubbing the arms of the chair as if promising never to leave it again.

  "You only got the best of me because I started in a football game last night," TD said. "You second-string guys with your ten-to-fifteen snaps a game wouldn't know what that feels like."

  "I started," Ryan said as he sat back in his seat. "I'm not moving like an old man."

  "That's because I moved people out of the way so they wouldn't touch your precious ass. That's what a good lineman does. He sacrifices his body so his running back can maintain his. But no one appreciates what I do for the team."

  Troy stood in front of the TV, and Ryan stood up. David got on his knees. They exchanged a knowing look and pounced on TD at the same time.

  "Thank you, man," Ryan said as he punched Todd in the stomach.

  "You are the best, man," David said as he rubbed Todd's calf muscle, and from the grimace on his face, it wasn't a massage.

  "I love you, man," Troy said as he had Todd in a headlock, knocking on his head. "Thud, thud, thud."

  I enjoyed the show, but started feeling sorry for Todd.

  "Hey, you guys, leave him alone."

  In unison, they all released Todd and turned their attention toward me. My eyes opened wide, and I sat back on the couch.

  "You're lucky you're new," Troy said.

  "And cute," David said.

  "And Troy's girl," Ryan said.

  "Don't ever come between the boys and their bonding rituals," Todd said as he caught his breath and winked in my direction.

  "And you stop talking about my ass," Ryan added, pointing at Todd.

  Troy sat down next to me on the couch and wrapped his arms around me. Everyone settled in to watch NFL Countdown. The rhythm of the show lulled the guys to sleep. I rested my head on Troy's chest, enjoying the quiet and listening to the rhythm of his breath.

  Like he had some internal clock, Troy woke up as the game was about to start.

  "Ry, man, wake up. Game’s coming on," Troy said as he turned up
the volume on the television

  Ryan got up and headed out of the room.

  "Where's he going?"

  "Toilet," Troy said, "Ry can't move once the game starts."

  "You still a Bronco's fan?"

  "Hell yeah," Troy said. "What about you?"

  "Hell yeah."

  "That's my girl." Troy leaned over to kiss me and then headed to the kitchen.

  Ryan returned sporting an Emmitt Smith jersey.

  He held his fist out, and I tapped it, smiled, and went in the kitchen to help Troy.

  "Where's Ryan's girlfriend?" I asked.

  "She's not allowed in the house during the Cowboys game," Troy said.

  "Why?"

  "According to Ryan, he can't be a Cowboys fan and have a girlfriend at the same time." Troy walked over and pulled me in his arms. "He's crazy. I would take this"— he kissed me—"over a football game any day."

  "I don't know, I watched you yesterday. Every time they showed the coach or Michaels, there you were looking all focused and serious. Game face." I gave my best game face impression. It made him laugh. I loved the sound of his laugh.

  "I was trying to figure out what the hell was going on, that's all."

  "No, you weren't. When you went in, you were amazing. So in control. You looked so comfortable, like you were meant to do this."

  Troy blushed as he pulled me close, and my body molded into him as he kissed me. I had lost my train of thought by the time he let go. Standing there dazed, I asked, "What was that for?"

  "I don't know, I'm just happy, you know, that you get it."

  "Okay, you two, stop making out in the kitchen. Kickoff’s after this commercial."

  Troy let out another growl, which again made my knees weak.

  By halftime, half the food was gone, and the Cowboys and Eagles had traded touchdowns throughout the first half. The score stood at 21-21. The guys watching the game offered me pure entertainment. We all collapsed in our chairs after the action-packed first half, giddy and happy to have a breather before the second half started.

  Everyone dispersed either to the kitchen or to the bathroom.

  Something about being alone and the testosterone-filled, exuberant male bonding ritual I witnessed made me hot. My mind ran to some not-so-innocent thoughts of Troy and me, which had nothing to do with football.

  Troy sat up, rested his elbows on his knees, watching the first half highlights. I put my hand under his shirt and ran it up his side. He shivered as he looked back at me. He must have read my mind, because his hands were on me in a second, followed by his lips.

  His hands found their way under my shirt, and his bare hand on my flesh caused me to let out low moan. I didn't think anyone heard me. I was wrong.

  Ryan and Todd hooted and laughed.

  "Seriously, guys, if you can't keep your hands to yourselves, I am going to have to separate you." Ryan stood with his hands on his hips; I felt like my dad was about to punish me. Well, not my dad, but someone's dad.

  As promiscuous as I had been in the past, all my indiscretions happened behind closed doors and without an audience. I pulled my shirt down and sat up, embarrassed.

  "So, you guys going to behave?" Todd asked.

  Troy and I looked at each other. He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, got up, and sat in Ryan's seat.

  "That's what I thought," Ryan said.

  On the second half kickoff, the Eagles’ kickoff returner ran it back for a touchdown. Ryan, not wanting to tempt fate, made us go back to our original seats, but not without a warning. "Control yourselves for another hour or so."

  Troy and I did our best.

  The Cowboys game ended in a win, and that was when the party started. Ryan and Todd's girlfriends, Stacy and Kayla, showed up with more food and more friends. The couch had been taken over by a game of quarters. Troy took this opportunity to show me around his house.

  Troy's dad bought him the house a couple of months ago. Besides the kitchen and living room, the house had four bedrooms and three bathrooms. Troy led me down the hallway off the living room to his bedroom.

  Last time I was in his room, it had a Terminator theme and Legos covered the floor. This room showed Troy's mature side. A queen-size bed dominated the room, and another flat screen TV adjoined the wall opposite the bed. Two framed prints hung opposite each other: one of Troy Aikman and the other of Peyton Manning.

  On one side of the bed, a brown recliner matching the bedspread sat in the corner, and a treadmill completed the cool guy motif.

  I liked it.

  I jumped on the treadmill and turned it on.

  "I have a better idea if you want to get in a quick workout," Troy said as he sat on his bed.

  I didn’t think he meant to sound like a sex-starved teenage boy, but it made me uncomfortable, and that confused me.

  A few minutes ago, I had no issues with making out with him in a room full of his friends, but being alone with him in his bedroom, with him looking at me in that way, I couldn't swallow.

  I turned off the treadmill but didn't get off. I stood on the belt while it slowed down, and it stopped.

  "Rand, what's wrong?" He stood in front of the bed sounding disappointed. Troy was the last guy I wanted to disappoint.

  I stepped off the treadmill and walked over to him. I laced my fingers behind his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. I looked in his eyes, and the familiar look of lust on his face spurred me on. I pushed him down, straddled his lap, and pushed myself into him.

  He said something, but it was muffled by my kiss.

  I ran my hand under his shirt. I stopped for a second to look into his eyes again. The look was still there, a look of lust and something else, confusion maybe.

  I kissed him harder. He tried to grab my hands, but I beat him to it and moved my hands down to his shorts. I had one hand halfway in his waistband when he pushed me to the side and stood up.

  "Whoa, wait a minute." He looked down at me, and it was my turn to look confused.

  I tried another tactic. I sat on the edge of the bed, reached out to position him in front of me. He had discarded his sweatshirt earlier. Only a thin white t-shirt separated my lips from his abs. I remedied that problem, and as I pushed his shirt up and kissed his stomach, I rubbed the back of my other hand over the front of his shorts. He jumped back.

  "Miranda, stop."

  I placed my hand over my mouth to keep the nausea at bay. I couldn't look at him. I stood up and walked towards the door.

  "Miranda?"

  I started to open the door, but Troy shut it and turned me around. He wrapped his arms around me and held me with my back pressed against the door.

  "I'm sorry," I said. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

  "I don't understand."

  "I'm sorry."

  "You said that already." He placed his hand on either side of my face, forcing me to look at him. I wanted to hide.

  "I thought that's what you wanted." I sounded pathetic and stupid, even to myself.

  "I do want you, but that wasn't you. You kind of checked out on me for a second. Where did you go?"

  He was right. I did forget who I was with, and when I looked in his eyes, I didn't see Troy. I saw some guy who wanted to have sex with me, and I was about to do it because, well that was what I did. I wasn’t one of those people who didn’t know why they did self-destructive things. I knew why; I did them anyway.

  "I don't know. I—" I wasn't ready to have this conversation. "Most guys don't care."

  "Yeah, well I'm not most guys, and I do care." He hugged me tight.

  We lay down on his bed and held each other. I pretended to fall asleep, because I didn't want to talk about it. I must have dozed off for real because when I woke up, Troy was gone.

  I freaked him out. He was right. I did check out. I went numb and was going through the motions because guys expected it, and it seemed to make them happy. That look I had seen in every guy I had been with. When I thought back, I realized T
roy didn't have that look. It scared me even more because, in the moment, I didn't know the difference.

  I turned over and noticed a note he left on the pillow.

  Hey, Babe,

  Went on a food run with Ry.

  T.

  I walked out into the living room as Troy and Ryan returned. Troy hugged me like nothing had happened, but I stiffened and stepped back.

  I pulled him aside. "I have some work to do. Can you take me back to the dorm?"

  "Randa, you can't leave, we have the Texans on Sunday Night Football. I need you. You're good luck," Todd said.

  "Dude, even luck can't help the Texans," Ryan said and tried to tackle him, but Todd must have been feeling better. He picked Ryan up like he weighed nothing and put him back in his seat. Everyone was laughing, except Troy.

  "Come on, I'll take you."

  We rode in silence. Troy flipped through stations on the radio.

  I didn't know what to say or how to say it, but I couldn't shake the feeling something had happened to change things. The tension between us must have weighed down the car because the scenery outside passed by in slow motion.

  We couldn't get to the dorm fast enough. When he parked in front of the dorm, I tried to jump out of the SUV, but Troy grabbed my arm.

  I turned to face him, and the expression he held on his face broke my heart. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. I crawled over the seat. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him as close as I could. He hesitated, but his body relaxed as he held me tight, and rubbed my back. I hated that look. I never wanted him to look at me like that again.

  He wanted to understand, but I didn't know how to explain it to him.

  "If I hadn't moved away, do you think we would have ended up together?" I asked.

  "Not at first, but eventually, yes."

  "Why not at first?"

  "I think we would have wasted a lot of time getting over the whole you're my best friend, and I don't want to lose you thing."

  "Then how would we have gotten over it?"

  "Like I said before, we're supposed to be together."

 

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