On the way to the townhouse, I picked up Oscar, who spent an inordinate amount of time sniffing me. I played fetch and tug-of-war with him while I ate some cold pizza from the fridge. The AC was working again, thank fuck. By the time I showered, changed, and got to the hospital, it was mid-afternoon. The storm was gone, the August sun having erased any evidence it’d once existed.
When I turned the corner to the oncology floor, she was the last person I expected and the one person I needed to see the most.
And I was finally able to take a deep breath that didn’t pinch. My first of the day that came easy. When my lungs filled completely and the pain squeezing my ribs ceased.
But she didn’t stop. Didn’t even look at me. A sharp, prickly sensation filled my gut.
And when I visited Eli last, after he’d woken up from his nap, she was all he would talk about.
“… and then she covered my arms with all these tattoos, and I could tell Amelia thought I was a total stud, and then we all played UNO, and Amelia kept winning but that’s okay because every time she won she smiled so big, and her smile is just the best thing, and why weren’t you here too? Did you get in trouble with Reese?” He finally paused for a breath while I tried to catch up.
“Trouble?” I repeated. “Why would you think I’m in trouble with her?” Maybe because she walked right by me as if I didn’t exist? But Eli didn’t know that.
He shrugged but looked at me reproachfully from behind those glasses of his. “I asked about you and she smiled, but not like Amelia smiled when she won UNO. She only smiled with her mouth and not her eyes. That’s how you know it’s not real.” Confusion darkened his face. “I thought you liked her? You called dibs on her last time.”
“I do like her.” Something warm and soft bloomed in my chest when I said those words.
He laughed. “Well, you’re not doing a good job of showing her apparently. Maybe you need more tattoos.”
“I’ll take that under consideration.” I nodded seriously.
“Then you can peacock.”
“I can what?” Did he just say something about a cock?
“Peacocking. I saw it on the Discovery Channel. In nature, the male of the species is usually more colorful and bright, to attract the best female. You might need some more colors. Because Reese is the best, after Amelia. Then you can peacock her.”
I bit back a laugh. “I’ll have to work on my peacocking. Good advice, Eli.”
“Just trying to help a brother out.” He held out his fist for a bump.
I tapped it, then said my goodbyes. “Sounds like I got some work to do. I’ll come back and give you an update in a few days.”
“Good luck.” His eyes were wrinkled around the edges, like he was truly worried about my lack of game.
Turned out, he was right.
She ignored my texts the rest of the afternoon.
And at practice the next few days, she was glued to Smith. Reese didn’t avoid me per se, but she certainly didn’t seek me out or hang back to give me a chance to catch her alone either.
And the texts I sent those days? She finally replied. But they were stilted, awkward conversations.
Me: Hey, how are you?
Reese: Good.
Me: Busy tonight?
Reese: Yes.
Me: Want to grab dinner tomorrow? Sammy’s maybe?
Reese: That’s not a great idea. Someone could see us.
Me: We could bring it back to my place. Or yours. Or go to the park or something.
Reese: Maybe.
We didn’t get dinner. Not together anyway. When I stopped at Sammy’s after Thursday’s practice, she was there already, turkey and cranberry sub in front of her. But she was sitting with Smith, Cade, Willa, and Amber. Willa saw me first and licked her lips in blatant invitation as I walked to the counter. After my sandwich was ready, I approached their table, aiming for the empty seat next to Reese, but as I sat down, she popped up like a damn whack-a-mole and announced I could have her seat, she was finished anyway. And Willa and Amber were so visibly excited, talking over each other to get my attention, I couldn’t change my mind and follow her out without it looking awkward as fuck.
Tomorrow was Friday, the last day of official band camp, and the night of the Countdown, a Rodner drumline tradition.
I was the captain, damn it. And her vet.
She wouldn’t be able to avoid me there.
And I planned on peacocking the hell out of her.
Reese
While I’d admit I had a dream earlier this week that involved Laird and being tied up at his mercy, I didn’t expect to wind up blindfolded in the back of his car on Friday night.
The Countdown had officially begun.
It sounded easy enough. The remaining NADs were paired off, blindfolded, and driven around for however fucking long the vet behind the wheel decided to drive. Then, each twosome was dropped off at a different unknown location, somewhere within a five-mile radius of campus. If you didn’t make it back to the party at Bubba’s apartment and chug two cups of NAD juice before midnight, you were cut from the line, just like that.
Only six of us were left. Three groups. And, of course, Smith was the only one willing to be my partner.
Fuckers.
Marco and Laird were in the front seat of Laird’s Wrangler, arguing about practice times once school started Monday. Marco kept saying we only needed two a week, with the rest of the band, but Laird was pushing for a third, a drumline only one, on Wednesday nights.
The Jeep hit a pothole and I grabbed the door handle for balance.
“We can’t get sloppy this year, man,” Laird said. “It’s our last year.”
“Relax. We’re better than that. We’re not gonna fuck it up. We can always add in Wednesday practices later if we need it.”
I bit my lip at the blatant disrespect in Marco’s voice.
“We need it now,” Laird replied sharply. “We haven’t even narrowed down who’s earned field spots or started on the snare duel for the drum break.”
I couldn’t hear Marco’s reply over my own swift intake of breath, when the Jeep swerved suddenly to the left and I fell partially against Smith next to me.
He gave my hand a quick squeeze. “You okay?” His murmur was pitched soft enough not to be overheard.
“Yeah.” I braced my foot against the bottom of the seat in front of me, trying to stabilize myself a little better. “Pretty sure we just went off road.”
Marco snickered. “I take back my earlier comment about girls being dumb.”
I mumbled under my breath.
The rock music that had been blaring in the background suddenly went quiet. “Did you just say scrotum breath?”
I coughed to cover my laugh, and then lost the battle when I heard Smith choking up next to me.
“Scrotum breath?” Marco asked again. “Are you sucking Smith’s balls or something back there? Or is he sucking yours?”
Laird growled and slammed on the brakes before I could reply. The seatbelt cut into me hard, ending my laughter with a hard grunt. “We’re here.”
The sound of rustling filled the Jeep. I waited, listening as I heard Laird and Marco opening their doors and getting out. A gust of wind ruffled my hair as my door was opened, some of the dark strands landing in my mouth. I felt someone close to me and held my breath.
Gentle fingers traced the curve of my cheek, dislodging the hairs stuck to my lip balm. Laird. Marco wouldn’t have cared or noticed. He leaned over me, his arm brushing across my breasts as he unsnapped my seatbelt. Warm breath fanned my ear, his lips teasing the sensitive skin around the shell, and he murmured quietly, “I’ve missed you.”
Now was not the time or the place to discuss it, so I nodded for lack of a better response, but my traitorous nipples didn’t get the memo and hardened beneath my shirt. I sent up a silent prayer that Marco wasn’t watching.
The blindfold around me loosened, then fell in my lap. I blinked at the sudden brightness. Even though it was after dinner, the sun wouldn’t set for another hour or so.
Laird blocked my exit from the Jeep, his broad shoulders filling the door frame. I twisted in the seat, nudging his hip with my knee to signal him to get out of my way. Behind me, I could hear Smith exiting, the Jeep shifting with the movement, and then Smith talking shit about where we might be while Marco dodged his questions.