Chapter 7

I'll take care of him. Why in the fuck did I say that? I need to be spending less time with Tucker, not volunteering myself to spend more time with the man.

Okay, no getting out of it.

"I just need to text the guys. I was their ride to the party later," Tucker"s eyes go round. "Dude, concentrate on letting the doc fix you up. They can figure it out."

I pull my phone out and let them get on with it. I ignore the part of my brain that wants to discuss the fact I am still holding Tucker"s hand. His big, meaty hand that could easily throw me around the bed.

I am an ignorant king.

Cheer Queers

Perry: Gio, how's Tucker?

Luke: How are you?

Brad: Dude, you almost got flattened.

Hudson: Wyatt wants to know if Tuckers tattoo is okay?

Luke: What tattoo?

Wyatt: He's got a sword on his calf and a skull on his ass.

My jaw clenches in jealousy.

Gio: How do you know what tattoo he has on his ass????

Perry: Oooh, look at the green eyed monster.

Gio: I'm not jealous. Just curious why Wyatt, who is straight, has seen Tuckers ass.

Perry: You used four question marks. That is jealousy.

Luke: Perry has a point Gio.

Brad: What monster?

Wyatt: I walked into the football players locker room by accident one time.

Wyatt: He has a great ass.

Wyatt: Ask him what workouts he does.

Lexi: How is he doing?

Shit.

Me: It's a big fucking gash, but Tucker is okay. Thankfully next week is a bye week so he should be okay to play after that.

Me: I've said I'm going to help him out. Can you guys find a ride later and take my backpack home?

Luke: Thank fuck. It could have been so much worse.

Perry: No worries.

Perry: You're helping him out?

Me: They're calling me over. I'll speak to you all later.

I close out of the app and put my phone on do not disturb. Perry may be petty as fuck, but he is also one of the most caring friends I have. He has a vague idea of my history with Tucker, so no doubt he has a lot of thoughts about me playing Florence freaking Nightingale.

I have questions.

Like, what the fuck am I doing?

"Okay, Evans, you're ready to go home." The doc says, interrupting my musings. "Take a couple of Tylenol, keep it dry and elevated. And remember to get plenty of rest. No strenuous activities." He is really obsessed with the strenuous activities line.

"That won't be a problem," I say with a nod.

"Yeah, because you're the only strenuous activity I want to do," he mutters.

I swear to god, Tucker Evans is going to be the death of me.

"Sexual activities count as strenuous."

"What abo-"

"Even those."

"But-"

"Tucker, stop thinking about your dick, and let's get you home," I explode.

"I don't want to think about my football career circling the drain."

"Tucker, this is not a career-ending injury. You just need rest and light physio." Grant says with a smile.

Doc helps me get Tucker loaded into my car, we leave with a set of borrowed crutches just in case he needs them, and promises of keeping them updated.

The drive to the football house is a lot quieter than I thought it would be. Is it stupid that I kind of miss him hitting on me?

Yes, yes it is. Don't be a fucking idiot, Giovanni.

No rebounds.

I pull up outside his home and look on at a full-on rager underway. I have a headache, and we're not even in the house. How the fuck is Tucker meant to rest here?

"Stay in the car," I tell him as I make my way inside the house. I storm through the throngs of people until I see someone on the team.

"Charlie, take me to Tucker's room," I shout in his ear, making him jump.

He looks at me, confused. "Uh, I think Tucker might kill me if we hook up in his room."

"I don't want to hook up with you, I want to get him an overnight bag because there is no way can he stay here. He needs calm and quiet," I tell him. "I thought you were straight?"

"I am."

Okay, then.

"Which room is Tuckers?"

When the fucker finally tells me, I head up to the room, grab a bag from his closet and stuff a few days worth of clothes in there, including socks and the boxers that we bought together when we went shopping so he could get new fun underwear.

He's rebounding.

I grab his laptop, charger, and wash caddy, and head back out to the car, ignoring the football players who call out to me. Dickheads.

"What is happening?" Tucker asks when I'm back in the car and pulling away from the curb.

"You can't stay there. It's loud, dirty, and fucking crowded. Plus, I would have murdered someone if I had to stay there too."

"So, are you taking me to the cheer house?"

"No. I share a room with Perry, so that won't work."

"Okay, are we going to a hotel?"

"No."

"Why aren't you telling me where we're staying? I'm getting scared you've decided to yeet me into the Pacific."

"You are so dramatic."

"I only get dramatic when you get avoidy."

Urgh, does he have to call me out? I suppose I would be stressed too if I was being taken to stay somewhere I had no clue about. It's just that I know this is a fucking terrible idea. Tucker will be fine, but it's me I'm worried about. She will no doubt try to have us engaged within a month.

"We're going to my parents."

"Oh. Are they…do you not get on?"

"My parents are the best people in the whole world. They are going to treat you like a king. I'll have to make sure my mom doesn't completely throw off your football diet."

"That's great." I can feel him staring a hole into the side of my head. "Why are you so worried?"

I stay silent.

"Giovanni," he says in his grumbly voice that has a direct line to my dick.

"My mum is very…invested in my love life." I bite out. "She's going to try and set us up."

I can feel the fucking joy emanating from him at my words.

"I have an ally in Mama Russo?"

"No. No allies. You're not fighting a fucking war, Tucker."

"You bet your tight, juicy ass I am. And I am going to use any weapon I can get."

"Until you wear me down?"

"Fuck off with that shit. The only reason you are saying no is because you have it in your head that I'm rebounding. If you didn't want this, I would back off, and you would make me."

Well, shit.

I have nothing to say to that. Okay, I do, but anything I say is going to prove him right, so fuck that.

Even though our car ride finishes in silence, I can feel the smugness radiating off him.

I pull into my parents drive and see that the lights are all still thankfully on. I didn't think they'd be in bed asleep at eight p.m., but you can never tell with my parents.

Mom must have heard my car. Before I've fully opened the car door, she's standing there on the porch looking like all her Christmas wishes have come true. I really should stop by more often.

"My baby, what brings you here? Are you okay? You're still in your cheer outfit. Is this a protest because it's been a few games since we've seen you cheer? I am so sorry." She turns to my dad, who has followed her out and is standing on the porch with a happy smile. "Anthony, we need to cancel plans with the West's next weekend. We're going to watch Gio cheer."

"Ma, take a breather. I'm not protesting anything, and next weekend is a bye week."

"Are you sure? We don't mind. They only ever talk about books and plants, so cancelling isn't a hardship."

I roll my eyes. "I'm positive. I'm here because my friend got injured during the game and he needs to rest and relax. I was wondering if we could stay for a few days. I said I'd look after him and the football house is too loud and wild."

To say my mother lights up would be an understatement.

"Yes, Gio. Of course. Bring him in," She beams at me.

This is a bad idea.

Oh well, there's no turning back now.

I walk around and open Tucker"s door. "I can't believe I'm going to meet your parents for the first time looking like roadkill." He grumbles as I help him out of the car. He changed into sweats back at the stadium with the help of Grant.

"You look as gorgeous as always. Just a bit beat up." I'm just full of errors today it seems.

"You think I'm gorgeous?"

"You know how you look."

"Yeah, but it's nice when the guy you're crushing on says it." He winks at me, making my stomach flutter. "I'm going to analyze this in bed tonight as I go off to sleep. Oh, I hope I get put in your room. That'll be hot."

No words. How is he just so open about all this shit? I don't understand it.

"Let's get you inside." I lead him over to my parents and I am not prepared for what happens next.

"Grocery lady," Gio exclaims with a smile.

"Oh my goodness, Anthony, it's the boy from the grocery store. I got his number so he could have dinner with Gio. This is wonderful."

"You wanted to set me up with Gio? Hell yes! I'm obsessed with him in a perfectly wonderful green flag kind of way. Maybe you can help me convince him we should date."

My jaw drops. "I'm going to be your carer for the next however long and you decide to just throw me under the bus like that?"

"Sweetheart, I told you I will use any and all weapons to help you see we belong together." He smirks at me.

"Aww, Anthony, he calls Gio sweetheart. That is delightful." Mom shoos us into the house. "Let's get you both set up in Giovanni's bedroom, and then I will feed you."

That stops me in my tracks.

"What do you mean both? Tucker can sleep in the guest bedroom, no?"

"No, your cousin is coming to stay and I have already made the room up for him. So sad. Anyway, you are both adults. You can share a bed."

I look at my dad, and he just shrugs.

Looks like I'm sharing a bed with Tucker.

Fuck.