5. Rowan

CHAPTER FIVE

rowan

“Yes! Now that’s how you block for your quarterback!” Coach shouts, and for once, it’s a happy shout at me. I mean, he’s not a hardass, he’s really not. Especially compared to our last coach, but he hasn’t been thrilled by the way I’ve protected the QB.

I guess it’s just been hard to accept that my new job on the field is to protect Benny McBride, but I did today, even though it’s just practice.

Why? Because it’s my job out here on the field. No other reason. Our first game is coming up, and I know it’s time to get serious. I’m an asshole, but I’m not that big of an asshole where I’ll allow Benny to get hurt out there.

“Hell yes! You finally figured out that part of being a guard is actually guarding.” Montgomery can’t resist the jab at me, but I don’t really mind Vaughn. He’s an okay guy. He’s not really an asshole, like Curtis is.

“Fuck off, Montgomery,” I shout, and then I’m met with a stern glare from Coach, but he doesn’t look that mad. In fact, he’s pretty pleased with all of us, and I’m in a good mood when I head into the locker room with the rest of the team.

I pull my sweaty t-shirt off over my head, just as Benny comes in through the doors, definitely in a good mood. But honestly, when the hell isn’t he? Even after his ex-girlfriend wrung him out in front of the entire school this morning.

“You said you almost kissed someone and that’s why we needed to break up.” Mya’s words from this morning ring in my ears, and I try like hell to push them away.

“Hell yeah! We’re going to kick some serious ass on Friday,” Benny shouts as he walks past me to his own locker, stripping out of his shirt, and I look away before I spend way too long lingering on his long, lean muscles. But of course, he’s not done, and his voice is right in my direction. “Well, as long as you keep looking out for my ass.”

Don’t look at his ass.

I hate that I have to actually tell myself that. “It’s just Hayes. I’m really not worried, but still, it’s not like you can just rely on Montgomery out there.”

Montgomery flips me off easily because it’s what we all do, and then Chris helps the conversation move right along. “You coming to my house after we kick some serious Hayes ass, Montgomery? Or are you too pussy-whipped?”

Now Chris gets the middle finger from Montgomery. “I think I’ll bring Van, yeah.”

He’s been dating Vanessa for a while now—shit, I think since freshmen year? So that’s not really a surprise. “Van and Vaughn. So cute,” Chris teases.

“Aw, too bad your actual lover won’t be there though, huh, Montgomery?” Of course, Curtis has to bring this shit in. He can’t seem to help himself. They say the biggest homophobes are repressing some pretty serious things. Maybe it’s true about him.

I know there’ve been times where I’ve joined in on this bullshit, but I’m over it. I don’t want to stand here and listen to it.

“Leave Austin out of your fantasies, Curtis,” Vaughn bites out, and yeah, he’s for sure not kidding around now. He never is when it comes to his nerdy best friend. Austin doesn’t hang out with any of us—never has. We’re way too jocky for him, and he doesn’t hold back saying that.

Never has.

The kid always has his nose in a book or working on homework. I swear. It’s strange for anyone around here, and he could have so easily been a total outcast at our school, but Vaughn doesn’t allow that.

They’re always together when Vaughn isn’t at practice or playing at a football game—Austin refuses to go to any sports games. How Vanessa puts up with Austin being a third wheel, I’m not really sure, but I’m almost positive that if she ever made him choose, she’d be on the losing end. She likely knows that as well as we all do.

“You know exactly who I was talking about though.” Curtis just doesn’t seem to know when to quit.

Vaughn isn’t as big as I am, but he’s close, and he’s strong. He walks right over to Curtis, who’s still laughing at whatever joke he thinks he just made and shoves him back into the locker—not hard—but enough to make him stumble. “Leave Austin out of it. You hear me?”

Jesus Christ. This is getting old. “I was just kidding,” Curtis says, clearly flustered.

“How is it funny?” Vaughn asks, and it gets attention. Joking about guys with other guys is just part of the locker room. It always has been. And here, it’s always go with the flow or get called out. I can’t take the attention. Vaughn is becoming just as bad as Benny. He’s not gay, so why the hell is he wasting time calling Curtis out?

As if things are ever going to change.

They aren’t.

“Jeez. Never mind,” Curtis grumbles, and Vaughn steps back over to his locker, still glaring at Curtis.

“I wonder what that’s about?” Benny murmurs quietly next to me, like we share secrets or some shit.

“How the hell would I know?” I bark and finish undressing before heading to the showers. I wash quickly, and I’m climbing out just as Benny climbs in. I get a flash of his pale round ass and book it to my locker, breathing heavy and trying like hell to avoid everything around me.

Did anyone see me looking at his ass? What the hell is wrong with me? All this gay talk is messing with me.

I quickly get dressed and then remember Benny gave me a ride again this morning. I have to get that truck fixed. I can’t keep being in close contact with him. It’s messing with my head too.

I wait for him out at his truck because no way in hell do I need to see him climbing out of the shower, all soaking wet and shit. He finally gets outside, wearing that big ole grin he always does, and we hop in his truck to drive out to the gravel roads, taking us both home.

“Since you’re clearly shit at being a mechanic, I don’t need your help tonight.”

He just chuckles. “It’s not my fault your truck is a piece of shit. You need a more permanent fix.”

“I got a part ordered,” I tell him, looking out the window at the bare land all around us. There are a few houses here and there, but it’s sparse out here. Just the way I like it.

“When will it be here?” He parks near my truck, and of course, he hops out too.

“A week.”

He doesn’t even ask, just pops the hood of my truck and fiddles with it like he did yesterday. “Start it up.”

I swear to God, he’s a pain in the ass. I glare at him, but his blue eyes don’t falter, he just stares at me until I grumble and walk around my truck to start it up—which it does start right up. I walk back over to where he’s standing and slam the hood. “Thanks.”

Maybe thanking him will make him leave. But of course not. He just stands there grinning. “Well, that’ll get you home, but so we don’t have to keep doing this dance, how about you just let me pick you up the rest of the week? I’ll even bring you home.”

I want to tell him no. Flat-out no. Never going to happen, but I just sigh heavily, knowing he’ll do it anyway. “Fine.”

His grin is wide and beautiful as he nods his head. “Well, all right then. See you tomorrow, Kincaid.”

“Tomorrow, McBride,” I huff, and he chuckles as he heads to his truck, and I get into mine. I drive the short bit to my house and turn off my truck, grateful it didn’t sputter and die again.

I see my dad’s rusty old truck next to mine, and dread runs through me. I was hoping he’d have a late shift tonight. No such luck. I get out, grab my bags, and go inside. I see him just where I expected to see him, his boots kicked off, beer in hand, and parked in front of the television.

My dad’s not a bad guy. He’s really not. And I wouldn’t call him an alcoholic, per se, either. It’s just—other than working out on the oil rigs, this is what he does. He doesn’t go out. He doesn’t have hobbies.

He just likes a few beers at night, and he likes sports on television. It’s hard to believe he wasn’t always like this, but I have memories from when I was younger where he was the best dad. Attentive and fun.

“Hey, Dad.”

He just grunts in my direction, not saying a word. It’s like he can’t stand to look at me. I get it. I look like her. I always have. Same dark hair. Same eyes.

And he’ll never look past his own heartbreak to realize he’s not the only one she left behind when she died.

I lost her too.