Homecoming King

Home > Other > Homecoming King > Page 18
Homecoming King Page 18

by Jami Albright


  Her answering grin tells me that she knows what I’m doing, and she’ll allow it. “Tell me about him.” She leads me out of the gym and onto the practice field for football and soccer.

  “Some days I can still hear him saying, ‘Cash, it doesn’t matter where you come from, at some point every man has to make a choice as to who he’ll be. Now drop and give me twenty.’”

  Her expression is warm and genuinely interested.

  “He died the year after I went pro.” Even after seven years, there’s still a stab of pain beneath my sternum. I chuckle to hide the knot in my throat. “He wasn’t very happy that I didn’t stay in college for my senior year, but he understood. The team has a rookie banquet every year, and Dave came in place of my dad. Of course, by then, my dad had been dead for years, but I wouldn’t have brought him if he’d been alive.”

  “I’m sure Dave loved that you took him.”

  “Yeah, he was like a kid in a candy store. If the kid was a crusty old coach with male-pattern baldness who lived for football.”

  “He sounds great. You were lucky to have this place.”

  The statement is wistful, and I turn to see her face. She’s staring off into the distance. She’s right, I was.

  “Yeah, I learned most everything I know about football from Coach Dave, and being here kept me off the streets. I’d also come back while I was in college to help with football camps that Dave put on.”

  “They used to have football camps here? That’s amazing.”

  “Yeah, they used to do all kinds of things for Ryder East. Dance camps, carnivals … and everything was no cost or low cost for community members. I’d forgotten all that until right now.”

  “I would’ve given anything to be involved in something like this when I was a kid, but all my activities were regimented and planned by my mom and dad.”

  “There’s a pretty good chance that you’ve idealized this place, Tiger. It was great to have somewhere to go, but it didn’t change our lives. Most of us were still poor kids without a cent to our names. Of the kids that used to come here, me and Duke may have been the only ones that went on to do something with what we learned here.”

  Her hair falls over her shoulders as she shakes her head. “Not true. You and Duke may have been the only ones to do something professionally. But there are people all over town who benefited from just having a safe, encouraging environment to come to when things got too hard at home, or when they didn’t have anywhere else to go.” Her fingers slid into her pockets. “You can’t put a value on a place that makes kids feel safe. Not everything has to come with a monetary value or should be measured by how much status you can gain from it.”

  I glance at the outside of the building and the crooked C in rec on the front of the building. I guess she’s right, but I feel like that last bit was directed at me.

  This stroll down memory lane isn’t what I call a good time. An old familiar panic snakes up my spine and wraps around my neck, making it impossible to get air to my lungs. I don’t need to be reminded where I came from or be reprimanded for crawling out of that cesspool one agonizing hit at a time. She has no idea what I’ve put my body through to make a better life for me and my family.

  I don’t know why I’m so mad. After all, I was just agreeing with her about the center. I need to get the hell out of here or I’m going to say something I regret. “Listen, I forgot that I told my mom I would help her with something, so …” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of my car. “I’m gonna get out of here.”

  “Wait, Cash. What about dinner?”

  “Wish I could, but my mom will have my hide if I don’t take care of this for her. Rain check?” I turn and leave, trying like hell not to run to my car. I don’t need this shit. She’s getting her money. Can’t she just leave well enough alone?

  I’ve lived this fucking life and have no desire to revisit the past.

  Thirty

  Tiger

  Heaven is a steaming hot tub and a glass of wine.

  There’s nothing better than slipping into the warm water with a bit of a nip in the air. I stretch my arms along the side of the pool and rest my head on the lip. But as relaxing as a good soak in the spa is, I can’t quiet my mind.

  I have no idea what happened with Cash today, but somehow, I think he feels that I was deliberately poking at a wounded part of his life. And as much as I like giving him a hard time, I’d never purposely be unkind.

  It’s also hard to believe that Cash King, the man who has everything, could have such a soft and tender underbelly. But I should know better than anyone that having every material thing in the world doesn’t make everything right. In fact, those things can become a prison unto themselves.

  Ugh, too much thinking.

  I close my eyes, breathe deeply several times, and let luxuriously hot water carry my cares away.

  “Well, welcome home to me.”

  My eyes blink open to see a long, tall drink of handsome man staring down at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here, Kitty Cat, or have you forgotten?” His stance is easy and loose, not like earlier when he was a ball of tension at the rec center.

  I slip a little deeper into the water. “No, I haven’t forgotten. I’m just not used to having you around. How’s your mom?”

  He rests his hands and butt against the back of a patio chair, and stares out over the yard. “I’m sure she’s fine, but I didn’t see her.”

  “You didn’t? But I thought you said …”

  He tilts his head back slightly and rubs his neck, avoiding eye contact. After several moments, he seems to come to some decision. His expensive tennis shoe scrapes across the cement, and he finally lowers his gaze to mine. “I … um … lied. I drove to Fort Worth and picked up a few things from my condo.”

  The leather duffel hanging from his shoulder finally catches my attention. “Oh.” I’m not exactly sure what to say. I was pretty sure he lied when he said he had to help his mom with something, but I guess I thought he’d go and see her anyway.

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  I scrub my face with both hands. “Okay.” The cocktail of emotions whirling through my chest are hard to decipher. On one hand I understand, given how upset he seemed at the rec center, but on the other hand, why did he feel the need to lie? I’m also hurt that he ran away from me like that, which is weird. He doesn’t owe me anything. Then there’s the issue of how my body responds to him anytime he’s around.

  “Do you mind if I join you?”

  Not at all, but that’s not what I say. “Actually, I was just about to go inside. It’s all yours.” I stand and place my foot on the first step to get out of the spa.

  “Please don’t.” His voice is so serious that it stops me in my tracks. “I need to explain.”

  I glance at him over my shoulder and see his expression matches his tone. “Okay.”

  He nods. “I’ll be right back.”

  I follow his retreating back and mentally calculate and catalog all the reasons why it’s a bad idea for me to be half naked and wet within the confines of this hot tub with Cash King. But when I see the shy grin he sends me before he disappears into the house, I know I’m not going anywhere.

  The next few minutes are spent shoring up my defenses against men who love the spotlight and measure their worth by their bank account.

  That’s not him.

  I correct the little voice in my head. It is him, but that’s not all there is to him. It’s that last part that has my butt planted in this hot tub waiting for him to return. I’ve never forgotten those hours we spent together working on our science project, or how he seemed to really care about what I had to say. But mostly I can’t forget the boy who hid under all his teenage bravado, but felt he had to prove something to the world. I only got glimpses of that guy, and I don’t think he intended to tell me about his mom, but in those moments we spent together, it was like he got his hooks into me. And in twelve years, I’ve not been
able to dislodge them.

  A muscled leg dusted with dark hair steps into the spa next to my head. I turn and barely contain a groan as his narrow hips and broad back sink beneath the water. He turns and re-positions himself on the seat across from me. Luckily, he’s so preoccupied with whatever is going on in his head that he doesn’t seem to notice my tongue practically hanging out of my mouth.

  Time passes, and the only sound is the bubbling of the hot tub. Cash watches the sky, and I watch Cash, unable to tear my gaze from his chest and the column of his neck.

  “I owe you an explanation.” He’s still examining the stars like the answers to life can be found there.

  “Alright.” Anticipation is like an electric current just under my skin. I find that I want to know everything there is to know about this man. And believe me, I’m not happy about this fact.

  He pushes his wet hands through his hair and smooths it back from his face. “I …”

  The look he gives me clearly indicates he’d like a lifeline, but I won’t give him one. He lied to me, and he does owe me an explanation.

  “First, I’m sorry for lying and for not sticking around to tell you what was going on.” The earnestness in his face holds the breath in my lungs hostage. “It was wrong, and disrespectful. Can you forgive me?”

  My mouth opens, then closes and opens again, but nothing comes out. I probably look like a largemouth bass with a crush on the homecoming king. Finally, I squeeze, “Yes” through my vocal cords.

  He nods. “Thank you.”

  I finally gather my wits and say, “I feel like I need to apologize too, because you were clearly upset, but I’m not sure what I did.”

  He shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything. It was all me. I …” His big hands go to the back of his head, and he looks to the heavens again. “Shit. I’ve spent the last few hours trying to figure out what to say.”

  “Is it about your dad?”

  Mocha eyes examine me. “Partly … mostly, but that’s not all of it.” He looks away and slides his teeth over his bottom lip. “I don’t like being reminded that I was a poor kid with an abusive father, and that walk down memory lane brought up all the shit from the past.”

  “Cash, I’m so sorry. That wasn’t my intent. I wanted to show you what good things we were going to do with your money.”

  “I know. I’m not blaming you. I’m just trying to explain.”

  I nod. “I get it. And listen, you know you won’t get any judgment from me on family crap.”

  “You can’t possibly understand what my mom and I lived through.”

  “That’s true. My parents didn’t leave scars or bruises on my skin, but some of the wounds to my heart and soul may never heal. That may seem over the top, but growing up with conditional love makes you doubt everything about yourself. There’s no solid ground. Knowing they can and probably will withdraw their affection if you make one wrong move, gain one pound too many, or say one wrong word creates this neurotic compulsion to please people. It really screws you up.” I smooth a piece of hair that’s fallen from my messy bun away from my face. “I don’t want to get into a pissing match with you about who had the worst parents, but you did have your mother. Both of mine were … well, they just were.”

  I wait for him to contradict me again, but he only stares. The heat stinging my face has nothing to do with the hot water around us and everything to do with the verbal diarrhea. “I know I sound like a drama queen. Poor little rich girl, right?” I try to laugh the embarrassment away, but my half-hearted attempt only spotlights the moment, instead of diluting the awkwardness.

  “I don’t think that about you, Tiger. I admire you, actually.”

  “Why?”

  “You walked away from your family and a life of prestige because it wasn’t who you wanted to be, and you’re remaking yourself.”

  “Thank you.”

  He glides one hand over the top of the water’s surface. “Though I don’t think you have to throw all the notoriety out with the bathwater, but it’s not my life.”

  I pop some of the bubbles on the surface of the water with my finger. “It had to be all or nothing.”

  “Why?”

  “It just did.”

  “That’s not a reason, Kitty Cat.”

  “Well, it’s my reason.” Now I’m on the hot seat and I don’t like it one little bit.

  He cocks his head. “I’m still not sure I understand.”

  “Neither did my parents when I gave away my trust fund.”

  “You had a trust fund and gave it away?” He says the words like they’re something foreign on his tongue. “To who? Why?”

  I’m mortified that I just blurted that out with no filter. He probably thinks I’ve lost my mind too. I stand and turn from side to side, looking for an escape.

  His big hand gently wraps around my wrist. The movement brings him closer to me. We’re mere inches from one another, and his dark gaze pins me to the spot. “Don’t go. I really want to understand. You had to have had a good reason.”

  Not the response I expected. I swallow to moisten my dry mouth. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you’re a smart woman who wouldn’t do something that radical without a damn good reason.”

  I search his face, and there isn’t a hint of condemnation in his eyes. He means what he says, and I lose a little more of my heart to him. My body moves without me even giving the command, and I lower myself to the bench.

  Cash sits next to me and moves slowly, like one wrong move will make me cut and run. “Tell me.”

  I fill my lungs with courage and start talking. “I had to get rid of everything about my old life so it wouldn’t contaminate the new life I’m building. Everything. Besides, that trust fund belonged to Tiger Watson, compliant daughter and submissive wife. A woman who accepted that she was only worth what people told her she was worth based on how well she obeyed and how good she made someone else look. I couldn’t in good faith keep it, because I had no intention of continuing to be that person.” I survey the back of Wayland Estate, the place I grew up, and feel nothing but regret. “Plus, that money was used against me my whole life, especially after I became an adult.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My parents threatened to take it away from me or delay me receiving it to keep me in line. It was also why Brad made sure I was exactly what they wanted. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on it. Imagine my surprise when I found out that they never had a say in when or if I received the trust fund. When I turned thirty, it was mine to do with as I pleased.” An ugly, bitter snort comes from my throat. “The sad thing is that I never cared about the money. I was obedient and biddable because I wanted their love and approval.” I swipe at a tear that slides down my face. “Is that a good enough reason for you?” I can’t help the challenge in the words.

  He completely ignores my testy delivery and nods his head, but not in agreement, more like he’s processing the information. “And Brad?”

  “It was the final straw for him. He filed for divorce the next day.”

  “Bastard.”

  I shrug. “We were living on borrowed time since I’d gotten back from Guatemala. I’m just glad Brad never wanted to have kids.” I cut my eyes to him. “He didn’t want me to get fat.”

  “I take it back. Bastard isn’t a bad enough word for that guy.”

  I laugh. “I have quite a few names for him, each worse than the other, that you can borrow anytime you want.”

  “He’s inconsequential in this story. You’re the star.” He rests his arm along the lip of the hot tub and turns toward me. “Tiger Lyons, you’re kickin’ ass and takin’ names.”

  Yeah, I’m pretty much a goner.

  Thirty-One

  Cash

  The image of Tiger big and round with my child charges into my brain. What the hell? That’s not me. I’m not the guy who wants kids and a family. I’d only screw it up just like my dad did. But damn if the picture isn’t as re
al as life. I turn away from her to get my head on straight and attempt to change the subject. “So, what did you do with the money?”

  The expression on her face communicates so much happiness, contentment, and surety that it steals my breath. “I split it into thirds and set up a scholarship for girls who need help going to college through Ryder High. Another third went to the aid group I worked with in Guatemala. And the last third…” She clears her throat and adjusts her position on the bench. “The last third went to Hope’s Refuge.”

  “What?” The contents of my gut take the punch of her words. Hope’s Refuge holds such a weird place for me. On one hand, it saved my mom’s life, and I’m forever grateful to them. Hell, I’ve donated to them too. But on the other hand, it’s another terrible reminder of who and where I came from. “Did I tell you about Hope’s Refuge?”

  She shakes her head. “You told me about confronting your dad and driving your mom to safety, but your mom’s the one who told me the name of the shelter.”

  “When?”

  “She came to talk to me after the homecoming incident.”

  The hits just keep coming. “I didn’t know she’d spoken to you about that.”

  “It was a few months after, and we ran into each other in town. She thought you’d apologized.” I don’t miss the side-eyed look. “When she found out you hadn’t, she … didn’t exactly make excuses for your behavior, but more tried to shed light on where you’d come from. She told me during that conversation.” A soft chuckle falls from her lips. “I think she didn’t want me to hate you.”

  I’m not sure how I feel about my mom talking to Tiger about me. “She probably didn’t sway your opinion.”

  The full force of her stare lasers in on me. “You’re wrong. I never forgot that story, so when it was time to pick a nonprofit that did good work, I automatically thought of Hope’s Refuge. I wanted to give my money to a place that helped a scared boy save his mother’s life.”

  All the words I could say are wiped from my mind by the honesty in her beautiful face. In a roundabout way, she did this for me. And almost without my knowledge, my arms go around her and I bury my face in her neck. She holds me to her and her bikini-clad body melts into mine. We stay in that grateful, platonic place for about a half a second, then her warm hands slide up my back, while mine tunnel into her hair.

 

‹ Prev