3. Rowan

CHAPTER THREE

rowan

Benny McBride.

He just bugs me. And I’m not even really sure why. He’s small—I mean, not too small or anything. He’s like six inches shorter than me, though, and not scrawny, but definitely nowhere near as bulky as me. He has these bright blue eyes and shaggy blond hair.

He looks like a surfer. Not a football player in the middle of Kansas.

And he’s mouthy. I mean, really, Benny never shuts his mouth. Like right now. Curtis is giving him shit after practice because that’s just Curtis for you. He’s an annoying motherfucker who loves to pick on those who are smaller than him, but Benny doesn’t back down.

Curtis rivals me in weight and height, even though where I have muscle, his is mostly fat. Still, he could flatten Benny in two seconds. But Benny just keeps running his mouth, not scared at all.

“Aw, don’t get too upset, Curtis. Maybe Coach will let you off the bench someday,” Benny says, and I can see the vein in Curtis’s neck pulsing. Looking for a fight.

“Fuck off, McBride. He only made you quarterback because he didn’t have anyone else. How’s your boyfriend doing, by the way?”

Benny doesn’t flinch at Curtis implying Dallas was his boyfriend. He never does. Why the hell doesn’t he deny that shit? Dallas was gay as hell. We all knew it, and he stopped hiding it last year. So everyone gave Benny shit constantly. Saying they must have been together since they were so close.

No one believed it. Everyone knew Benny was straight. He dated some of the hottest girls at school, but he never once denied it.

It pisses me off.

No self-preservation at all. Say what you want about the world changing and how no one cares who you love—but it’s bullshit. Around here, it’s bullshit. Benny—he should deny it. Dallas is off, free from this place, happy with his man or whatever, but Benny has another year in Big Bend. At least.

He just doesn’t seem to understand the danger of being accused of being gay around here. Dallas—his life was a living hell. He didn’t goad anyone. He tried to avoid everyone, and his life was still hell.

Because everyone knew he was gay. There was a rumor about him being with our old coach—not the most recent old coach, but the one before. The one who wound up in Kensley. People were pissed he couldn’t just keep it in his pants, and we lost a good coach because of it.

I don’t know if any of that shit was real or not, and I don’t really care. Right now, all my focus is on Benny just running his mouth. “Dallas? Oh, he’s doing great! Thanks for asking.” He flashes that smile over at Curtis—one I know is meant to get under his skin. One that makes his blue eyes sparkle and his dimples pop.

This asshole is going to get annihilated if he doesn’t stop. “So, which one of you likes to take it in the ass? Gotta be you, right?”

I don’t know why, but that makes me snap. I slam my locker, right in between both these idiots and glare at Curtis. “That’s enough.” He looks at me with confusion, and I flush slightly at the attention from the rest of the team. “No one wants to hear about that shit,” I try to add, but it feels like it’s too late. Everyone is still looking at me, and I can feel my pulse racing.

“Yeah, I’m not sure why the hell you’re so worried about who takes it up the ass, Curtis...” Montgomery pipes up, and I think it might be the first time I take a breath since I slammed my locker door. “You have something you want to tell us?”

There are snickers around the locker room, but thankfully, the heat is off me. I’ll have to remember to thank Vaughn Montgomery for that later. Maybe.

“You know what, Benny?” I hear Chris, one of the receivers start. “I saw Mya the other day.”

I try to ignore the shit-talking and pull my shirt on, since I already took my shower. I just want to finish getting dressed and get the hell out of here.

“Oh yeah?” Benny isn’t as playful now. His voice sounds tense as he pulls on his own shirt and does up his jeans.

“Yeah.” Chris doesn’t seem to give a shit about how tense Benny has become. “She’s so hot. Total smoke show, that one. How’d you let that go?”

Benny is totally rigid now. Unmoving. And when I sit on the bench to pull on my shoes and tie them, I see Benny’s throat flexing with rapid swallows—like he’s nervous or something.

He finally just shrugs and grabs his shoes, sitting down near me on the bench but not looking at me. He looks down at his shoes, and I try to study him. What the hell is this all about? Now he’s quiet?

I expect him to make a joke about being too much for her to handle or something, but he seems like he just wants the conversation to go away. And it does because no one around here has much of an attention span.

I don’t know what happened between Mya and him—well, not for sure. They were dating for a while, and they were the It couple in school. When they broke up, it seemed like the entire school was talking about it.

Benny wouldn’t say a word. I don’t know what happened—but I can’t help but wonder if I had something to do with it. Which would be incredibly stupid because nothing happened.

Nothing. Happened.

I repeat it over and over in my head, stuck there and frozen to the bench as I will the memory away. Of him pushing all my buttons after practice. When we were the last two in the locker room, and he just wouldn’t shut his mouth.

His perfect, pink, full lips just kept moving as I backed up against the lockers...

“Rowan.” I jump when I feel Benny’s elbow nudge me as he says my name. I look at him with an angry glare, even though I should be thankful to him for pulling me from the memory.

“What?” I snap.

He just shakes his head, like he’s used to me being a grumpy bastard—and I guess he is. “Since I brought your ass to school, I’m assuming you need a ride home.”

Well hell. I don’t want to accept a ride from him, but I can’t really think of anyone else I’d want to ride with here either, and I’m not going to call my father for a ride home. “Fine.”

He just chuckles and stands from the bench, grabbing his practice bag and his bookbag, and I do the same, following him out. Ignoring the glances our way. Well, trying to. I feel my neck heat with their stares, and I wonder what they’re thinking about me leaving with Benny.

I don’t want to think about it.

We get to his truck, and I climb in, slamming the door. He climbs in on his side, happy as can be, starting it up and taking off from the school.

“You know you need to stop doing that shit, right?”

“What shit is that?” he asks, and even though I can’t see his face, I can hear the amusement in his tone, and I know he’s smiling right now.

“You know exactly what shit I’m talking about.” I turn to look at his profile as we cruise down Main Street. “Stop pushing him and tell him you’re not gay.”

“And why would I do that?” he asks, amused. He’s grinning as he looks out at the street and waves to a couple of guys from school as we drive by. I have to resist ducking down because I’m sure they’ll ask me why I was in McBride’s truck, but fuck ’em. They already saw me anyway.

I huff angrily. “You know why. Just stop before you get your ass beat.”

“Aw, always worried about my ass.”

“Knock that shit off,” I say loudly, but it doesn’t make him flinch at all. He just chuckles at my outburst. “Tell them you were with Mya, and that you loved when she sucked your dick and the taste of her pussy.”

He nearly chokes on a laugh now and then shakes his head. “I’m not doing that.” He glances at me for just a minute. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

I feel that heat creeping up my spine and going up my neck to my ears. My mind stuck on the word kiss .

Nothing happened.

I look away from him quickly though, tired of looking at him. “You’re not a gentleman.”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his voice going deep and kind of husky. I have to resist the urge to look over at him.

Thankfully, we’re out of town now and close to my house. I need out of this truck. Like now. I see my truck up ahead. “You can let me out here.”

Benny stops in front of it, and I hop out, but of course, he doesn’t drive off. Nope. He turns his truck off and hops out, looking under the hood with me.

“I’ll be fine. I can walk home from here if I can’t get it running.”

“Or you could just let me help,” he says in that singsongy way that kind of makes me want to punch him. He’s leaning in too close, though, and I make the mistake of breathing him in, my body reacting in the worst possible way.

I nearly hit my head on the hood, jerking back from him. He turns to look at me, with one eyebrow quirked, silently asking what the hell is wrong with me. The truth is, I don’t know.

Not really.

It’s something I’ve stuffed down, but I can’t seem to make it go away around him. Which is why Benny McBride is not good for me.

“I said I’ve got it.”

He does something under the hood, ignoring me because he’s a total pain in my ass. “Try it now.”

I huff, but anything to get away from him, so I pull my keys out of my pocket and reach inside the cab to try to start it. The old truck rumbles to life instantly, and I hang my head.

Really not wanting to thank him.

I stand outside my truck, that’s still running and hasn’t sputtered to death, and nod in his direction, despite the shit-eating grin on his face. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem, friend,” he says way too happily. And yup. I’m going to have to punch him.

“Not your friend.”

“Aw, Rowan. Someday, we’re going to be friends. You should just let it happen.”

“Never, McBride.”

He mock-salutes me. “Sure, Kincaid.”

He’s laughing all the way back to his truck and flicks a wave my way as he takes off toward his place.

I don’t like him. I don’t.