The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs Book 2)

by Kate Stewart

  “I had a lot of growing up to do.” It’s the truth, and even though it pisses me off that Clarissa hasn’t bothered to come to my defense nor state the facts, I still spare her. “I’m here now, and I’m hoping that counts.”

  “Six years?” Parker asks, unwilling to give me a break. I get it though, I would be just as cautious.

  “I didn’t want to cause her any more trouble than I had.”

  Also the truth, a muted version of it.

  “Bullshit.”

  I sigh. “Look, I can’t change what I did or how absent I’ve been. All I’m asking for is a chance. And whether you think so or not, I have both their best interests at heart. I don’t want to take your place, just invent my own.”

  “How poetic.”

  I run a hand along my jaw and face Parker head-on. “I care about them both, very much,” I meet Clarissa’s eyes, and she darts hers away, so I bring my attention back to Parker. “I want to be the best father possible, and I know how much you matter to them both, so I need you to sign off on this.”

  Parker glances back at Clarissa, who slowly nods, but she doesn’t let up.

  “It’s not like you asked us first. I’m just supposed to trust you?”

  “It’s all you can do until I prove myself.”

  Parker is very much an integrated part of this family, and I need her approval, nearly as much as I need Clarissa’s. Sweat gathers at my temples as I sit in wait for a good minute for her verdict.

  “If you don’t make good with them, I’ll have you know, I know people, internationally. I can make you disappear.”

  I cup my jaw to hide my smile. “And what is it you do exactly?”

  “That’s for me to know.”

  “She’s a consultant,” Clarissa giggles uncontrollably from where she stands at the sink.

  “That’s right,” Parker snaps my attention back to her, slowly running a finger in a slit your throat way across her neck. “I advise clients all over the globe.”

  “Impressive.”

  “I’ve got your number, Troy,” Parker hisses.

  “Everyone does. It’s twelve. Are we done with the death threats? Because if so, I’d like to spend a little time with my son before I do the yard.”

  Parker turns to Clarissa. “He’s doing your yard too?”

  Clarissa nods, unable to keep her smile to herself. It’s beautiful, and I can’t help staring at her a little longer because of it. She’s a vixen without knowing it and has a ‘come hither’ air about her. My hand is still burning from that slap I gave her this morning and itching for another go around. I knew I must have momentarily lost my damn mind touching her that way, but I couldn’t help it. She thinks I’m into supple coeds, but my attraction to her has grown exponentially over the years, and she’s the definition of just my fucking type. I love her fiery amber locks, her straight nose, and the shape of her lips. I love that our son’s birth widened her hips giving her more contrast and curve. Her thighs are thick, and her ass is fucking heart-shaped perfection. Parker’s interrogation rips me from the few seconds of appreciation I’m finally able to give without Clarissa noticing. But the pitfall is that Parker notices and I have a feeling that’s not a good thing.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Parker says. “You’re back. You’re doing the yard, helping to pay the bills, and practically a live-in babysitter so she can go out on dates with her college crush?”

  “He’s your college crush?” I ask Clarissa, who rolls her eyes, ignoring my question.

  Parker is all too happy to fill me in. “Oh, yeah, she was googly-eyed for him for years. He’s a real estate mogul.”

  Clarissa pipes up, shaking her head. “Uh, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “He’s got a ten-inch cock, endless bank account, and practices Ju Ju Jetsu or some shit, which means he’s lethal.”

  “He had a green belt in Karate when he was ten,” Clarissa snorts, “and I haven’t seen his cock.” Her bright blue eyes dart to mine at her confession, and she backtracks when she sees my smirk. “Not yet. I haven’t seen it yet.”

  They haven’t been intimate? She’s been dating him at least a month. This pleases me, though it shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t. I need to stop obsessing, but I can’t help my slight satisfaction with all that’s been revealed today. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance I could be more than her baby daddy. It’s not much, but it’s better than no chance in hell.

  “Oh, he’s packing,” Parker assures. “Marion told me so.”

  Clarissa drops the dish in her hands, and it clanks loudly in the sink. “Marion slept with him?”

  Parker’s enthusiasm plummets as she turns to Clarissa, “Oh, crap, babe, she didn’t tell you? Yeah, they dated for like ten minutes.”

  Clarissa looks at her pensively. “Do you know why they broke up?”

  Parker turns back to me, ever the menace. “Probably because she couldn’t handle all that sausage, she’s a vegetarian.”

  “So, you think I have some gaping vagina?”

  “And that’s my cue to leave,” I chuckle and stand. “This has been ridiculous. Parker, nice meeting you.”

  “Pleasure is all yours.” Parker turns back to Clarissa. “No, love, you don’t have an overstuffed taco. I’ve seen your puss, it’s pretty.”

  “I second that,” I say before two sets of eyes laser my head off.

  I make my exit, chuckling as Clarissa hisses at Parker behind me, “Did you have to go that far?”

  “I got a little carried away.”

  I shut the door and join Dante in the yard, just as the drone sets sail.

  Michelle’s Hash Brown Casserole

  Dude Ranch Housekeeper, Florida

  Makes 8 servings

  1 hour and 30 minutes

  2 Lb. Bag Tater Tots or Hash Browns – Defrosted and Crumbled

  1 Pint Sour Cream

  1 Chopped Onion

  1 Can Cream of Mushroom Soup

  2 Cups Shredded Cheese

  2 Tsp. Salt

  1 Cup Melted Butter

  Topping:

  2 Cups Crushed Corn Flakes

  1 Stick Melted Butter

  Mix all ingredients together. Pour into 9 X 13 baking dish. Place topping on mixture.

  Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour.

  Clarissa

  “What are you doing?” I ask Parker as she stands rapt at the window.

  “Just enjoying the weather.”

  Dante opened the last of his presents half an hour ago and has locked himself in his room to make a video, while Parker and I soak up a little adult time with a newly uncorked bottle of Pinot.

  “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes,” I say, wiping my hand on a towel before shining the sink. I don’t remember much of my mother, but do remember the way she took pride in her cleaning, always shining the faucet after she was done with the dishes. One of the few memories I have is the two of us elbow deep in suds while singing together. My mother loved soul, the classics, that much I do remember. It’s what brought her and my dad together.

  Dad used to tell me she was born an old soul, someone who didn’t quite fit musically or fashionably in the time they existed, and that’s what he loved most about her. “She had depth,” he used to say, “I saw that first before I knew the color of her eyes.” I have my mother’s neon blue eyes, her most remarkable physical attribute, which only made his sentiment mean more.

  Dad never remarried after Mom died, but had a special place in his heart for the ladies. He had lots and lots of girlfriends, who taught me a lot about a lot. Because of his eclectic tastes, I can cook a variety of dishes and have collected a ton of mixed advice about men, mostly about my own father, while his flavors of the month packed up and moved on.

  Parker sips her wine. “We should have a wine day soon since you’ve got a good, reliable sitter.”

  “I’m game, I could use some adult time.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Parker says a little breathlessly.
r />   “You’re probably freaking him out,” I warn as she stands fixed at the window.

  “Good, I want him afraid of me.”

  “Oh, I think you blew that all to hell with the horribly delivered death threats.”

  She gives me the stink eye. “Only because you bat them all away. I can’t help that I’m a little over-protective.”

  “Just a little.”

  “He better not screw this up. I really will kill him.”

  “Me too.”

  “I can’t believe you gave in that day he cornered you. So unlike you.”

  Swallowing a little liquid courage, I corner the sofa making my way toward her. “Parker, I haven’t been completely honest about Troy.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You know how I told you he would come around sometimes and watch us?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, the last few years, he’s been coming around more and more. And…he’s been sending checks.”

  “What?” This finally tears her eyes away from the window.

  “He’s been more diligent than I led on, waiting for me to give him any opportunity to meet his son.”

  “Bullshit. Don’t give him any room on the rug, Clarissa.”

  “I’m not. Trust me, I don’t want to, but it’s the truth. It took me a while to come around, but when he noticed me notice him, he kept coming back.”

  Parker’s mouth parts. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I wanted you to hate him too. I know that makes me awful.”

  “It’s me. We don’t keep secrets.” She’s hurt and angry, and I don’t blame her.

  “Sometimes, especially in the beginning, he’d disappear for a few months, and I assumed that was the end of it. When he went missing, it was easier to ignore he’d been there. But he always came back.”

  “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

  “Don’t you see? If I admitted it to you, then you would have forced me to give him a chance. I had to stay strong. When he truly manned up and forced himself into our lives, that’s when I knew he was ready, and that’s why I gave in without much of a fight. I’ve been fighting with my conscience for a while now. I think on some level I always knew he was coming. I needed him to be ready. He was just a kid.”

  “So were you.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Parker turns back to the window. “Definitely not a kid anymore.”

  “I know.”

  “The ass on this guy,” Parker says before glancing over her shoulder at me. “I’m pissed at you.”

  “Do you think I made a mistake?”

  “I think you both had some growing up to do.”

  “Ouch.”

  “That’s me being nice. A mistake, probably, but time will tell. He really does need to earn your trust. But this isn’t about you. This is about our boy, and nothing is more important.”

  “Agreed. I’m sorry I lied.”

  “Maybe you should apologize to him.”

  “One day I will, when he truly deserves it.”

  I join Parker at the window peering through the blinds to see Troy clad in a backpack leaf blower, his jeans hanging low on his ass, his bare ass.

  Parker’s laughter erupts when I gasp at the sight of his muscular butt on full display. “I give it an eleven out of ten. Have you ever seen such a fantastic ass?”

  Troy continues his task blowing the debris from a giant oak tree while clueless he has mouths frothing on half the soccer moms in the neighborhood.

  “I saw a lady with a turkey neck drive right into her garage door a few minutes ago, and your neighbor on the other side of Troy has been checking her mail for about ten minutes.”

  Parker pours some wine into both our glasses, filling them as I try to control my laughter. “We need to tell him.”

  “Five more minutes?” She asks with a whine similar to Dante’s.

  “You’re horrible.”

  She shrugs. “Not our fault. And payback is a bitch. Besides, how can you not know your ass is full-on out of your pants?”

  “Kids these days,” I say, clinking glasses with her before bringing my eyes back to the tightest ass in the neighborhood. “Five more minutes.”

  Fifteen minutes later, a breeze comes through, making Troy painfully aware of his nakedness. Parker and I both grumble in protest before tactically ducking when Troy self-consciously darts wide eyes around while adjusting his pants.

  Troy

  “We’ll be going over this more in-depth next time. See you then.” Our instructor flips the lights, and I remove my glasses, stand, and stretch. After practice it’s lights out, and I’m looking forward to my pillow and after, some time with Dante. I’m determined to ace senior year and bring up my GPA a few points. If I don’t get drafted, I want more for myself than just to settle for a different career. Though if someone told me years ago, I’d be majoring in electrical engineering and taking classes like computer science and analytic geometry, I would have laughed in their faces.

  I’ve struggled in school my whole life. It wasn’t until I declared my major that I began to seriously crack the books. With the bulk of my course load under my belt and most of my struggle over, I can concentrate on doing more than just graduating. The best things in my life have always come hard-earned. If there’s anything I want to teach my son, it’s that sometimes the hardest route is the best route because it’s far more rewarding. Ball came naturally. And though I’ve done the work and put blood, sweat, and tears into the games, it’s been far easier than the challenge of school.

  “You’re Troy Jenner, right?”

  I look over to the blonde, addressing me while I’m mid-stretch. “That’s me.”

  “Good game last week,” she says, staring at the flash of abs when my shirt rides up. I extend my stretch to show her she’s caught red-handed and am rewarded with her giggle.

  “Thanks.” Gathering my books, I size her up. She’s pretty, in the girl next door kind of way, but she’s got nothing on my baby mama. It strikes me then how I’ve subconsciously been comparing every girl to Clarissa. I need to get over it. She’s got a boyfriend, and as of late, keeps our conversations more clipped than ever. Any hopes I had, have been dashed by the appearance of a BMW after she drops Dante off with me. “And you are?”

  “Nora.”

  “Nice to meet you, Nora.”

  “I, uh, well, I was wondering if you needed a study partner?”

  “All set for now,” I say, knowing precisely what she wants a partner for. If I’m going to start dating, I’m going to have to be as selective as Clarissa. As hypocritical as it may seem, this girl seems to be the opposite of what I need. Not only that, I enjoy the chase. It’s no fun if the game is already over.

  “Well, if you change your mind…” She looks me over and bites her lip.

  “Thanks for the offer, I’ll keep it in mind,” I say before we separate in the hall. Outside the building, I see another sucker dropping to his knees to propose under the Era Tree. It’s a Grand tradition equivalent to an old wives’ tale—if you walk alone under the tree, you walk alone forever, but if you walk with your Grand sweetheart, you’ll be endlessly happy together.

  Pure. Fucking. Bullshit.

  I’m not at all against commitment, but for the moment, I have all I can handle. I pause to catch the girl’s answer and notice a brunette with killer legs in front of me. She’s a foot shorter, has on a sundress and cowgirl boots. Adorable.

  “Better them than me,” she mutters as the crowd roars when the girl accepts the proposal.

  “Couldn’t agree more,” I reply just as she slams into me, and I catch her to keep her from falling. Her clean scent hits me, and my dick is instantly on high alert.

  “Sorry,” she sputters, “…sorry.”

  Our eyes finally lock, and I’m drawn in. She’s beautiful, and despite her shaky demeanor, seems confident. Hazel eyes look me up and down, and I’m fully prepared to use every line in
my arsenal to keep this girl talking when she darts her gaze to her booted feet.

  “Nope,” she says, breaking our connection before sidestepping me.

  “Nope?” I ask with a chuckle.

  “That arm belongs to me,” she says softly, nodding toward the hand I have latched around her.

  “All yours,” I say, hesitantly unhanding her.

  “Thanks for saving me a trip.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Good day.” She crosses her boots in a ridiculous curtsey, which makes me chuckle before she skitters off.

  Game on.

  I catch up with her as she hauls ass toward the parking lot. “Do you mind telling me what that nope was about?”

  “Just an inside joke between me, and…me.”

  “You’re bruising me here, beautiful. Did that nope mean I’m not your type?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I’m sure a…ego of your size can handle it.”

  I’m grinning again, but she can’t see it because she’s practically running from me. “I’m not so sure, it’s leading me in the direction away from class.”

  “Better switch lanes then, don’t want to be late,” she says breathlessly.

  “What if you’re wrong?” I ask, fully interested. She’s gorgeous, smells amazing, and her deep twang is alluring. Interest piqued, I decide she could be just the distraction I’m looking for. I can’t remember the last time I went on a real date. And from the way she’s avoiding me, it’s easy to tell she’s been burned. She’s wary of me, and for some reason that’s my new catnip. Maybe this girl is the place to start.

  “What if I’m right?”

  Flustered, she brings her eyes to mine. Recognition, attraction, it all passes between us before she scrambles to pull her phone from her purse and takes a fake call. She’s avoiding me. It’s the same type of Clarissa rejection all over again.

  Interesting.

  “Sorry, I gotta take this,” she says, her eyes drinking me in once again, and I do the same, regretfully taking her hint.

  “Shame,” I say before giving her freedom, for now, because after the class I’m now late for, and my nap, I have a date with my son.