5. king
CHAPTER 5
KING
STUPID STUFF FOR PUSSY
Back at MU, I had three new playlists on my phone. Two of them were Jade the Architect songs, separated by if I used them for gym slots or car rides, and one playlist of Willow’s recommendations once she found out what I liked.
It wasn’t her being there, but it was the closest I could get. I pushed up the weights, listening to her serenade me over my headphones.
I asked if there was something I could show up for on her first night in Houston and she dodged the question until admitting there was a show she’d play guitar for. As much as she tried to convince me I didn’t have to go, there was no way I was missing it.
Even through the headphones, I clearly heard the Vanysh chirp.
But…my music didn’t stop?
Adam came into view, waving his phone with a YouTube video to play the sound.
I groaned, lowering my headphones.
"She hasn’t hit you up in five minutes. You should call emergency services," he laughed.
My team captain snorted from a couple of machines over and I shoved Adam away, rolling my eyes. They’d been busting my balls about her non-stop.
"Is her name actually Angel or is that a nickname?" Adam reached for my phone. "Or is this one of the five Angels on the team? Are you sexting Angel Osorio?"
I wrestled my phone from him and checked the screen. Nothing.
When I flipped him off, he grinned.
"Back to work," Ryan called. "If you’re talking, you’re not going hard enough."
Coach Lawson’s favorite saying.
Technically, we were still on break and weren’t getting into actual training until after the trip to Austin but were still expected to keep up the gym routines.
Sweat dripped down my forehead as I pushed myself. I wouldn’t look at my phone until I hit my goal. Not one glance.
My screen lit up.
I took a deep breath, leaping into action, pumping my arms, counting backwards, because the moment I was?—
Done .
I rolled to a sitting position.
The angel
How are you going to work out and not send a gym selfie? :3
A gym selfie?
I chewed the inside of my cheek and slowly glanced at the guys, deep in their workouts. If I was quick, nobody would see anything. As casually as I could, I walked to the mirrors, water bottle in hand.
One photo.
How do you take it?
Google wasn’t any help. All those guys were scrawnier than me and shirtless. I couldn’t take off my shirt, the guys would see. But standing there and snapping a picture didn’t feel right either.
How do I…?
Some of the guys lifted their shirts, but they had the super defined, dehydrated thing going on. I didn’t have that. I didn’t have a six-pack. I was a big dude, stacked with muscle, not made in a lab, which meant the love handles and the huge thighs and the damn chest hair. I didn’t look like any of those guys in the pictures.
Did Willow prefer that?
How could I get that look in three minutes?
I crooked two fingers under my shirt, feeling like a moron. Who was I kidding? The scars on my stomach ruined the photo anyway. It was so stupid, but I wanted to give Willow something to make her glad she asked—not this . Deep scars crisscrossed my skin. I narrowed my eyes, willing them to go away. It didn’t work.
"What are you doing?"
I dropped my shirt and saw Adam, arms folded over his chest. My ears burned.
He smirked. "She asked for a thirst trap?"
"Uh, I?—"
"You’re going about it wrong. Don’t hide your arms. Like this, man." Adam showed me. "You want her to see the sweat."
"I don’t—uh—think I can do this."
"It’s not for you. It’s for her. Trust me. Piper makes me take these all the time."
"What the hell are you two doing?" Ryan interjected. "I shouldn’t be the only one pumping iron."
"This is an important step for him," Adam retorted. "Come on, King."
"I feel stupid."
"You can do stupider stuff for pussy. This is pretty tame on the list."
I sighed but stood in front of the mirror, holding up my phone. Willow sent me so many amazing pictures. Mouthwatering ones. I was sure she didn’t take a random picture and call it a day.
Adam snapped his fingers. "You want your V showing."
"My what?"
"Right here." He shrugged down his pants to flash the start of his hip bones. "Show the goods."
"I’m not pulling down my pants at the gym."
"If you want pussy, you can’t be a pussy."
"Goddammit." I pulled down my shorts about an inch and a half. That was where the line of curly hair really started, leading to my cock. There was no way Willow wanted to see that.
"Yes, she does," Adam said.
I frowned. I didn’t say anything.
"King, think like a chick. The happy trail is a neon sign on a lonely highway, pointing towards the only open rest stop for miles around—your dick."
I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.
"Look, they love this shit." He shrugged. "All hormonal."
Feeling like a dumbass, I snapped the picture and sent it off.
I placed my water bottle under the filling station and waited, watching the loading symbol. The picture sat there. Unopened. Definitely unwanted. I couldn’t unsend it either. It floated in the void, ready to make Willow laugh.
The small arrow changed to the open circle, and I leaned forward.
THE ANGEL REPLAYED YOUR PHOTO
That could mean anything.
THE ANGEL REPLAYED YOUR PHOTO
I stared.
THE ANGEL REPLAYED YOUR PHOTO
Water spilled over my hand, overfilling the bottle and I yanked it away.
The angel
Ooooooh myyyy goooood
You get anything you want tonight O_O
Can’t wait to taste
Holy shit .
Back at the weights, I grinned so hard my face hurt. She didn’t laugh. My stomach clenched at the thought.
I caught Adam’s eye and gave him a grateful nod.
"Trust me, I know it works," he laughed
Adam had been on my ass about Willow, but for stuff like this, I was thankful. Before Piper, he was the Marrs Manwhore and knew a hell of a lot more than I did about how I was supposed to act.
The door pushed open and Cleo Bennight walked through. With her new degree, Cleo graduated from being the program’s head PR intern to a PR director. She was our go-to person whenever anyone needed to put out a fire.
The second she saw me, her eyes lit up.
I stood up automatically, barely able to believe it.
"Your flight’s in three hours." She flashed her phone. "You’re going to be at the River Walk Emerald Dream Hotel—which is amazing of me, considering the Nostalgia Haze Festival is going on—your schedule is cleared for the next twenty-four hours. And there’s a bottle of champagne at check-in."
I stared.
When I tried to figure out a day to hit San Antonio, my calendar kept tripping me up. Summer training hadn’t begun, but I still had meetings with the coaches, my sponsorships, and required fitness exams. I asked Cleo for the favor, but I didn’t expect she’d be able to pull through.
"Have fun, King." Ryan chuckled.
Adam motioned me away. "Get out of here, man."
"Cleo, you’re incredible." I looped around at the door. "You’re one in a million."
"I know I am. But I’m not the only one who put this together."
I grinned even harder. "I’ll thank him before I leave."
Jogging down the hallway, I stopped at the familiar office, a few suits walking in and out of it as usual. Coach Lawson sat at his desk, listening intently to a couple of people in ties.
His eyes flickered to mine. "Hey, kid."
"Sir." I gave a grateful nod. "I’m not trying to take your time?—"
"You are the only football player I’ve never had to wrangle through something when they fucked up and refused to own it." He ignored two people trying to catch his attention and pointed at me. "You’ve done everything asked of you. You’re loyal. That’s rare to find, kid."
I straightened up a little, but my ears were hot.
"There’s a reservation for you at Undertaker’s, a great barbecue joint, a friend of mine owns it. They’ll take care of you." With a nod, he dismissed me. "I expect to meet this little lady when she comes to campus."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
The farther I walked down the hallway, the less it felt right.
I jogged back to the door. "Sir?"
"Huh? What?"
"Really, thank you."
He nodded again, and that was about as good as a smile from him. While he was right—I did everything he ever asked without question, without hesitation—there was a reason. I owed him more than any of my teammates.
Back at the athletes’ dorm, I packed toiletries and pulled out my phone.
Me
What do you have going on today
Can i get a selfie
The angel
Not much, listening to my relatives fighting
Fun times
Willow’s picture popped into view. Her thick curls framed her face, and I studied every inch of her and those adorable glasses. I screenshot it, another one for my collection.
Shit, I need to get going .
I grabbed my cologne from under the sink and tapped the phone screen.
"Hey, Siri? How long until I can change my lockscreen to pictures of my girl? How early is too early?"
"Sorry, I missed that. Can you say that again?"
"Hey, Siri?—"
My phone ringing stopped me. I pushed myself up and caught sight of the caller ID.
MOM CELL
MOBILE
My throat tightened and I answered the phone without hesitation. It took long conversations to convince my mom to call me when she needed help, I always picked up right away.
"Hey, Mom."
"I’m so sorry."
"Is everything okay? Is Jasmine okay?"
"So…they put me on a new medication…"
Yeah, I had it on my calendar. It was the end of week one and no recorded hospital visits. But I could hear the hesitation in my mom’s voice. I knew what that meant. My stomach sank.
"My numbers are jumping around a lot…" she trailed off.
It wasn’t like she wanted to go to the hospital, and while I told her about Willow, she didn’t know I got the plane ticket. It wasn’t her fault.
It didn’t change that icy feeling of disappointment spreading through my system. Slowly, I nodded. "Yeah. I’m coming."
"Thank you, honey," she said softly. "I’m really sorry."
"It’s never a problem, Mom."
I sat on the edge of my bed and took a deep breath. Only another few days before Willow was coming to Marrs. I’d make sure my schedule was clear.