Trevor

Trevor

Itake a sip of my bourbon, before looking around the backyard. Besides the wives, I’m the only one drinking. The coaching staff doesn’t approve of drinking during the season, even if it’s only practice right now. They can kiss my ass, though. I’d quit football before I give up my bourbon.

Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but I do like it. It brings on a calming numbness that sweeps over my body entirely, allowing me to finally relax when I do indulge.

I watch as the kids run around the backyard, playing some game Erica set up for them while a handful of the Crusader players and their wives mingle. Sebastian is barbecuing as Erica and Scarlett are prepping food. Vi is sitting in the lounger next to me, looking pretty fucking pregnant while Declan plays with their two boys, Tucker and Rodney.

“You okay, Trev?” Vi’s soft voice asks.

I turn to face her, giving her a smooth wink as I take another drink.

“I’m doing just fine, baby doll. How are you doing? Don’t you know it’s unfair to mankind for a woman to be nearly eight months pregnant and still look as sexy as you do?”

Vi blushes but rolls her eyes as Declan comes over, smacking me on the back of the head as he does.

“Stop fucking flirting with my wife, asshole,” he grumbles as he lifts Vi to stand before taking her place and pulling her down to sit on his lap.

Slater and Scar come out with Erica and Sebastian closely following them as they set up the table to my left with all of the food.

“Aw come on, Daniels. Sharing is caring. Just ask Slater. I’m an excellent sharer,” I say with a wink in Scarlett and Slater’s direction.

To my surprise, Scarlett is the one who laughs while Slater is the one who sends me a death glare. Maybe it’s the fact that this is my fourth drink of the day, or I just don’t give a fuck anymore, but my mouth keeps running.

“I mean, it’s only fair, right. I’ve fucked Seb’s wife. I’ve messed around with Slater’s. Vi is the only one left out,” I tease with a waggle of my eyebrows that has concern knitting Vi’s brows while what looks like thunder passes across Declan’s face. He practically gnashes his teeth at me as he speaks.

“Show some fucking respect, or I’ll teach ya some,” he says, his southern draw coming out thicker than normal.

“I mean no disrespect,” I say with my hands thrown up. “I’m just saying, I’m here if you ever need a little spice in your life. I’m not doing anything else, obviously,” I snort in a self-deprecating way that has everyone around us staring at me uncomfortably.

I glance around not sure why no one is laughing. I’m fucking hilarious. I’m just joking, obviously. Declan could snap me in two if he wanted, and I’m pretty sure if I fucked Vi, I’d send her into early term labor, so pass. Still, everyone is just staring at me, varying looks of irritation and disappointment.

Whatever.

Forcing myself out of the chair, I stumble only for a step or two before I make my way inside to the bar, draining the last bit of bourbon as I walk inside. I grab the bottle, filling my glass almost all the way to the top when I turn, slamming into someone almost instantly. My bourbon sloshes over the side, soaking the person in front of me and draining the glass.

“Damn it,” I grumble. “This shit is expensive.”

“Yeah? What about my fucking jacket,” a smooth voice says filled with irritation.

I look up from my glass to see a tiny yet mighty Sage looking pretty pissed off as she tries to rub the bourbon off her leather jacket. She’s wearing a plain white T-shirt that has got a little on it as well—just a few drops making the material almost see through, but not quite enough. Shame. I think the only redeemable thing about the woman at this point is her body. It’s certainly not her fucking mouth.

She paired the outfit with a pair of skintight black jeans and some Doc Martens that make her look every bit the edgy chick I know she is.

“Your scene kid clothes? What I did is an improvement—anything is, really,” I laugh as I lift the nearly empty glass, determined to get at least a few drops out of it.

She shoots me a dangerous look as she peels her jacket off and takes it over to the kitchen island, grabbing some paper towels before dabbing at her jacket.

“Aw, what’s the matter?” I goad. “Don’t want to play the battle of wits anymore?”

Sage looks up at me through her eyelashes, and I do my best not to stare, but fuck, those purple eyes catch me off guard every fucking time.

“Not when you’re so unfairly unarmed.”

It takes my alcohol-hazed brain a moment to understand what she meant. By the time I do she’s already brushing past me, more like shoulder checking me, toward the backyard, her leather jacket slipped back on despite it being pretty fucking hot out.

I contemplate getting another drink, but the lightheadedness I feel tells me maybe I need some food first. Setting my glass down on the kitchen island, I make my way outside to see that nearly everyone has dished up and is scattered throughout the various hangout areas in the backyard.

Once I load up my plate, I head for the pool, sitting at the edge just far enough back that my feet don’t quite touch the water. I’m eating for a few minutes before I feel her next to me. Her scent permeates the fog I’m swimming in, and I look over with a half a smile to see Erica sit down next to me, staring at me in concern. I frown at that.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are the girls?” I ask quickly.

She shakes her head softly. “Are you okay? It’s noon. How are you already this drunk?”

I relax a little before I roll my eyes.

“I’m not thhhhat drunks, Little Red,” I say slowly, my tongue suddenly feeling heavy.

“You’re literally slurring your words, Trev. What is going on with you? I know the move is an adjustment and everything, but I haven’t seen you like this in years, not since…” she stops herself, choosing not to go on, but I don’t have the same self-restraint right now.

“Since college? When I was fucked up over you, and you were fucking Seb behind my back?”

She gives me a hurt look as she leans away from me a bit.

“Seriously, Trevor? I can’t keep making excuses for you. That was a decade ago. You need to let shit lie, or I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask with furrowed brows.

She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before she looks at me again, her green eyes filled with unshed tears as she speaks.

“It means you need to get your shit together, or I can’t have you in my life anymore, or my girls’ lives. Do you know that Rosie came up to me and asked what was wrong with you? Why you were stumbling around? This is not fucking fair to them, and it’s not fair to you either. I’m trying to be here for you, Trev, but you’re making it really hard to love you right now.”

She goes to stand, and I reach for her desperately, my hand resting on the small of her waist as I try to pull her back to me.

“Baby, wait. I—”

She smacks my hand away, a look of irritation on her face, one I’ve never seen pointed at me as she speaks.

“Do not call me that, and do not touch me right now. God, Trevor. You really have no clue how many times your name comes up in my marriage, do you? How many times I’ve defended you, fought for you. I’m trying here, but you have to try too.”

With that, she walks away, back to the corner of the yard where Sebastian is staring at me with a look that could set me on fire. I look around to see Slater and Declan giving me equally disappointed looks while Vi and Scarlett give me sad shakes of their heads. Humiliation crawls into my throat as I go to stand, tossing my still full plate of food into the trash as I make my way to the doorway. I feel eyes on me, and as much as I should ignore them, I can’t.

I turn to look over my shoulder, shocked to see that it’s not Erica’s eyes that I’m feeling on me. It’s Sage’s. Her eyes aren’t full of contempt or disappointment like everyone else. Instead, she’s watching me with almost a curious look. Like she’s solving a Rubik’s Cube.

Solve away, Raven. I’ve been trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me for longer than I can remember.